Chris Upson: Had a revisit to the dreaded Hill of the Wangie in search of that most elusive of trig points. Found the summit area just as hopelessly confusing as last time and was on the verge of giving up again, in a state of utter despondency, when lo, a beautiful grey pillar of concrete appeared as if by magic in a little clearing in a narrow forest break. It was quite an emotional moment, snatching a result when all seemed lost. Seemed so simple once you'd found it.
Leslie Barrie: Easily the hardest gained hill of the year and it's a mere 319m high and no more than 300 metres into the woods from the forest track. I'd already tackled Knock of Braemoray that morning, then spent some time and rather more money than anticipated in Gordon and MacPhail's excellent whisky shop in Elgin. Hill of the Wangie surely couldn't take long to reach from the public road at NJ137557, so I left the rucksack and carried only the bare minimum. Wishful thinking had me hoping that maybe the critical part of the forest would have been felled, or perhaps there was a firebreak or path of sorts leading from NJ140538 to the summit. Wishful thinking indeed! The conifers were so closely planted, blocking out any sunlight, that the compass was of limited use, as any attempt at following anything like a straight line was an impossibility. Fortunately, the GPS really came into its own. It was reassuring to discover that even in dense tree cover the signal was constant and accurate. Reaching the trig point had to be one of the biggest disappointments of the year. Had the trig been situated in the darkest recess of the forest, camouflaged in mosses and half-buried under fallen timber, then there would have been relief and joy at its discovery. As it happens the trig lies just clear of the trees, in a narrow firebreak running roughly north-south, so there has to be an easier approach, most likely from the forest track to the south. I rested for a short while by the trig point, soaked in sweat, arms and legs scratched and bloodied, and hair covered in pine needles and cobwebs. Following the firebreak south would have been an option, albeit a longer one, and of uncertain benefit. Sometimes it's best to face the devil you know, and after all, the GPS would lead me back to the track from where I'd entered the forest. Although not quite reduced to progressing on hands and knees, Hill of the Wangie is a hill I am unlikely to forget in a hurry. The cuts and scratches were still there as a reminder some weeks later.
Alan Dawson: I spent an hour thrashing around the summit area in 1999 failing to find the trig point, I've read various accounts of others finding it, and I've still not twigged the best way to find the damn thing.
Rob Woodall: Looking at sheet 68 again I can't believe I did this. Planned to follow the forest boundary west, north then east, but was fooled into following a promising-looking track north into the forest at NR631143, then when it headed off in the wrong direction, an hour of solid spruce on a northish bearing (map was in the car) led almost miraculously to the rough, misty, heathery summit. I half-expected to meet Dave Hewitt with a broad grin and mouth full of spruce needles. Seriously, a combination of rides and compass-work, from say NR618153, would probably do the trick. Outwith the forest all is abominably deep wet heather and tussock.
David Rawden: After descending from Grayrigg Forest I had an altercation with the farmer at Low Fellgarth (SD595986): 'If my dog wasn't tied up he would attack you. This fell is private property.' Didn't think I'd better argue the latter in view of the former, and in case it spoiled things for future baggers.
Sgreadan Hill summit (photo: Graham Illing). The tree density is no longer a problem, but some feel it's still a wee shite
Colin Crawford: Okay, I was using an old map which failed to show the new plantings or the ways through, but I can't imagine any ascents of this hill which wouldn't be utterly foul. I went up through young trees from the east, finding any breaks to be filled with head-high bracken. Once above the pole factories, the deep heather contrived to maintain the arduousness of the approach. On descent, I somehow became entangled in an area of deciduous trees which eventually approached impenetrability. A long tussle with thorns, undergrowth and rotting tree trunks ensued. Two hours vanished in the bagging of this merest pimple. So please don't tell me about the easy route up that I missed.
Alan Dawson: There is an easy route that you missed, forged by numerous baggers attending the Marhof 2000 meeting, but I don't know what it is either, as I was unaccountably diverted to a 2m trig point instead of bagging this hill when I had the chance of a guided ascent.
Colin Crawford: Galloway roughness at its most intimidating - tall tussocks surmounting deep holes, interspersed by cloying vegetation. It probably didn't help that I was ambushed by a drenching squall as I struggled up from the forest road to the west. Loch Fleet was a minor mitigation, and there may well be an easier route, but I won't be in a hurry to return.
Jon Metcalf: Deep in GOML heartland we stuck to the marked bridleway up this. The Tolkienesque slutch wrecked an otherwise fine hill and viewpoint. Parts of the northern approach could easily swallow railway carriages.
