Cornwall’s highest hill, Brown Willy, is a great big whale-back shaped ridge that stretches from north to south. The 1,378 foot (420 metre) high summit is situated more-or-less in the middle of the long thin crest. 

From it you can see half the West Country peninsula. On a clear day I have even seen as far as my native Exmoor looming some 50 miles as the crow flies to the north east. 

Every Cornish person should climb Brown Willy. To live in Cornwall and say you’ve not been to the top of the highest hill is something akin to a Londoner saying they’ve never seen Big Ben.

The slight problem (or benefit if you think in the same way as me) is that there’s no easy way to reach the hill. You have to earn your sense of altitudinous achievement by walking at least a couple of miles to the great buttress before you can think of climbing it.

I imagine the most popular way in is to climb the equally amazing and perhaps even more enigmatic Roughtor (pronounced Row Tor) next door and then go on to Brown Will. Looking at the two neighbouring hills from most angles you'd put money on it that Roughtor was the taller, but it actually loses by 20 metres.

It is a flamboyant show-off of a hill that stands proud of the moors and seems to shout "look at me!", whereas Brown Willy just gets quietly on with the business of being biggest. National Trust owned Roughtor is a hill so strewn and cluttered with rock that it's almost as if God, delighted with his second highest Cornish mountain, forgot to clear up the off-cuts...

So that’s one way in to the road-less highland that boasts Brown Willy.

Another – and I have done this on a couple of occasions when I’ve been utterly bored with driving – is to walk in from the A30.

The best way to do this is to turn off at famous Jamaica Inn and head north to a place called Codda Ford. Close to where the lane stops there’s a track which heads off into the moors to cross the young River Fowey then it climbs a knoll introducing you to the huge shoulder of land between Hendra Downs and Leskernick Hill. Beyond lies Brown Willy.

Reaching this area from Jamaica Inn is a simple enough thing to achieve – all you have to do is drive under the dual carriageway, north of the pub, and take the small lane that heads off from the feeder road. It runs a mile or so directly north under Tolborough Tor before coming to an abrupt end. 

This is where we parked on the small strip of greensward near the gate. When we were there a man and a woman were also preparing to go walking and, as I was a little concerned my map was out of date, I asked if they had a more modern copy of OS Explorer 109…

“Explorer 109?” the man said with obvious distaste. “My map is dated from the 1700’s and it will do me. Nothing much has changed up here.”

He was right. Even this small distance from the busy A30, you are plunged into the antediluvian world of the great high level plains. Which is a bit of a falsehood really, because quite a lot has changed up here down the ages.

To begin the hike, simply go through the gate at the end of the lane, turn right and follow the bridleway which descends along its ancient rocky bed to eventually cross the young River Fowey. It then continues north by climbing a knoll and introducing the walker to the huge shoulder of land between Hendra Downs and Leskernick Hill. The latter is due north and, once you can see its rock clitter clearly, it’s time to leave the bridleway and strike off towards the summit. 

Leskernick Hill is famed among archaeologists as being the location of some of the most remarkable early dwellings in the country. And as you walk up to the summit you’ll see the rocky remains of some of the 50-odd prehistoric homes which once stood here. It was undoubtedly a busy community. Nearby there are stone rows, stone circles and goodness knows what else, where these early folk could have amused themselves doing whatever they did in such places.

Just north, between Leskernick and Buttern Hills, we came across the deepest groove in the West Country. I can only imagine the giant rut – which is some 50 feet deep and more than 100 feet across – is what remains of the tin streaming, which I know for a fact went on up here.

We walked around the western flank of Buttern Hill to find the source of the River Fowey before marching due west across High Tor to reach the northern buttresses of Brown Willy. Our walk now took us south down over the ridge, then left over Catshole Downs and up to Catshole Tor. On the tor there is one singular rock and in the middle of the rock there is one indentation which happens to be the size and shape of a cat. So I wondered…

But I didn’t wonder for too long – because my map was still insisting this was private ground and I had no right being here, so off we went, south east, to Tolborough Tor. Readers with good memories will recall that we parked our car under this eminence – and sure enough there it was on the greensward just a few hundred metres downhill to our right. As we walked, so a man came towards us with a scythe. I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but wondered if he meant to have words with us about the act of trespass. 

Which is why we repaired without more ado to the aforementioned Inn where we enjoyed a pint despite the loud music and the general air of motorway.

Fact File

Basic hike: from Codda Ford just north of Jamaica Inn, up Leskernick Hill and onto Buttern Hill before turning west for Brown Willy. Then over Cornwall’s highest peak to return across Catshole Downs.

Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 109.

Distance and going: six miles, can be rough and boggy in places.

TS Eliot wrote of 'old stones that cannot be deciphered' and of 'the still point of the turning world'.