There is a very nice but poignant memorial to a young man who obviously liked his fishing near here.
The following poem is taken from a notice on a tree.
For sensitivity the cache is not at this spot though but further up the hill where the views are stunning.
Up the hairy mountain
Down the rushy glen
We dare not go a fishing
For fear of nasty men
But when Nature calls
Its shout must be heard
And all go off a poaching
Up the North Third.
The views from here are quite spectacular.
Normally Sloe trees ( Blackthorns ) are kept secretive and known only to a few.
Oruvaq gur Fybr ng gur sbbg bs gur sraprcbfg.