From Castle Findlay I headed north east back over the ramparts, through the wee glen and back onto the track. The track led north west so I headed north east through the trees until they cleared. (I hoped to find the hut circle on the way back!) From here it was dreadful walking conditions with rotting trunks, deep ruts and puddles. Eventually I found a track and walked east. However the dun was to the north so once again it was back into trees, some fallen, to head to the clearing housing the dun.
The clearing is set on steepish slope and has many young firs growing on it making walking conditions a complete nightmare. However I made it to the top and found what little remains of the dun are left. Underneath the turf the rocky tor still survives and it can be seen in parts despite all the new growth. After a long and good look round I found the tumble down walls mentioned in Canmore. Sadly from this point onwards things became much much worse.
From nowhere the skies darkened, thunder and lightning was banging/flashing everywhere and the rain went straight to monsoon. After all the looking for the remnants I had become completely disorientated and probably headed south, completely the wrong direction. I found tracks I didn't know existed, paths heading nowhere and ditches that had become torrents, several of which I fell into. Still I kept heading downhill in the hope of reaching a road. (I actually walked past 2 cairns I'd visited before). Eventually and at last I'd found a road, near Mid Urchany. In a bedraggled and sorry state I started to walk in which I thought was the right direction. Maps were soaked and the phone had stopped working so I had no clue where I was. Suddenly white van man came to my rescue and asked if I was lost. Explaining that my car was near Regoul, I was told it was 5 miles away. Seeing that I was completely drenched and had enough of the day he kindly took me to my car.
Very easy to get lost in the hills even if experienced. To easy!
SLAGACHORRIE -- The Hollow of the Glenlet.
The term was anciently applied to a semicircular recess occurring among the hills, though such a depression only varied in shape with the local geological formation, but in all cases it was originally due to the disintegrating influence of some mountain torrent. Occasionally it means a whirlpool in the sea.
Some maintain that the name is Slochd a Corrie, the Ravine of the Kettle, and the following tradition is told in support of this view: --
On that tragic night in 1442, when the Comyn Family were unsuspectingly put to the dagger at their own table, in Raite Castle, by the Mackintoshes, whom their hosts had intended as the real victims, one of the domestics - a covetous young fellow - is said to have done a crafty deed. Coolly taking advantage of the terrible death struggle which raged in the great hall, he very stealthily entered the strong room and emptied the contents of the various coffers into an old kettle for his own personal use.
Soon after midnight he slipped away from the Castle, under the cover of darkness, and sped with his heavy burden across the Hill of the Ord. On reaching this lonely hollow, he hastily dug a suitable pit, in a secret cranny, and therein carefully deposited his ill-gotten gear - hoping to remove it at the earliest possible opportunity. But the Fates had decreed it otherwise; the lad never returned, and the kettle with all its precious treasure still remains undiscovered, even to the present day.