Once we left the course behind, trees and fields surrounded the road for a mile or so up to the old Minto Estate.  Along the way we encountered flocks of pheasants sauntering throug the fields and across the road indifferent to us and the noise of our car.

North corner of Fatlips Castle

Though still inhabitable, Minto House is a tired but proud relic of its past glory.  The barn, other buildings, and agricultural implements of the estate all showed some signs of use but were old and very tired.  We drove along the barn up the ruts of a narrow washed dirt road for a couple of hundred yards and stopped at an iron pipe gate and sheep pasture.  As we drove up a dozen or so sheep came up to the fence to look us over and then ran off as we got out of the car.  Passing through the gate, we secured it carefully behind us and walked up a gentle slope to the crest of the pasture hoping to see Fatlips which we knew had to be close by but, alas, was not to be seen for the trees.  To the south side of the pasture we could see a second gate so we headed in that direction.

As we crossed the wind and light drizzle reminded us that May is springtime not summer, even if it does permit the sun to shine warmly at times.  As we secured the south gate behind us we were eager to see Fatlips but unsure of how to reach it as there was no clear path.  We noticed what was probably once a road of sorts as there were no trees or large bushes growing in a stretch that wound up over the hill to the right.  We decided to take that route to the right, our first mistake.  We walked easily to the top of the hill but found no castle.  We began to wonder if we had gone too far through the golf course and Minto Estate but no, Ruberslaw was where it should be and we felt quite certain that was Bedrule to the due south.

Minto Crags

Minto Crags is plural as there are two hills together though only the eastern one is much of a crag.  The two hills are the twin cones of an old volcano.  Time has eroded the two peaks into the shape of a pair of well rounded buttocks and we were on the wrong side.  This was a slight disappointment because

of the threat of rain but no real problem.  We would simply walk to the east and the other knoll.  That was our second mistake.  We should have returned to the gate and worked our way up the flank to the left but, as we know, Turnbull men don’t turn around.

Gnarled Thicket

The growth slowly became thicker as we climbed down the right slope.  It was as though the mountain was coaxing us into a trap.  By the time we reached the bottom of the gully we were so tangled in the thicket of gnarled branches that retreat would have been no easier than pushing forward.  The branches were so thick and so close that they could not be pushed aside.  We had to climb over and through them like school children on a jungle gym.  The branches were just flexible enough to spring back every now and then with a whack of punishment for our having disturbed their lair.

Barnhill’s Bed

As we approached the top of the east knoll we came across a small terrace called Barnhill's Bed notched into the hill.  This roughly flat spot which once held a sentry’s post is mentioned in the following lines from The Lay of the Last Minstrel by Sir Walter Scott:

“On Minto Crags the moonbeams glint
where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint;
Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest
where falcons hang their giddy nest
'Mid cliffs from whence his eagle eye
For many a league his prey could spy;
Cliffs, doubling, on their echoes borne
The terrors of the robber's horn.”

Eventually we reached the crest and were delighted to see not only the top of Fatlips castle over the trees but also a sunny blue sky.  Our spirits rose and carried away the aches and pains we had gathered along the way.