There's something about Pitlochry in winter that makes it feel like the set of a film that no one bothered to finish. Empty streets, silent B&Bs, smoke curling lazily from a single chimney — all very scenic, if a little post-apocalyptic.

I set off toward Ben Vrackie after a night in a creaky guesthouse where the radiator made strange breathing noises. The path begins pleasantly enough from Moulin, winding past a frozen lochan and through frost-stiff heather. Not a soul in sight. Just the dull crunch of my boots and the faint squawk of something bird-shaped watching me disapprovingly.

As the ascent began in earnest, the frost thickened into hard snow, and I was briefly grateful for the walking poles I almost left in the car. The final push to the summit ridge was properly icy — crampons would've helped, but sliding about added to the fun. At the top: white silence. Even the usual summit photo felt unnecessary, like waking someone up just to prove you're in the room.

I sat down with my flask and a pork pie (questionable decision), when I caught sight of a lone stag far below — a slow, steady movement through the trees. Beautiful, sure. But also suspiciously well-timed, like it knew I'd be telling people about it later.

Back in town, I thawed out in a tearoom, drinking bad coffee next to a fireplace that had been lit, mysteriously, with one single burning log.

Trail Notes

• Start point: Moulin, just outside Pitlochry
• Time: 3–4 hours round trip
• Terrain: Well-maintained path; final ascent icy in winter
• Extra: Tearooms aplenty in town. Pick one with actual firewood.