Happy returns in Morar

The first few months of 2024 have seen some really poor weather conditions in Scotland.  In the north-east of the country it was the wettest winter for many years and April was the coldest since 1905!  When the forecast for the first few days of May showed warm and settled conditions on the west coast, Douglas and I made plans for a few days sea kayak camping.

We met at Mallaig mid-morning on a glorious day.  A glance at the map shows how well positioned Mallaig is to access superb sea kayaking routes.  Our plan would be very flexible and would largely be dictated by a forecast of variable winds from a generally easterly direction.  Before packing our boats we took second breakfast of croissants and pains au chocolate with coffee from the excellent Mallaig Bakehouse and also bought a large focaccia bread to accompany dinner.

 We were on the water and away shortly after noon and enjoyed a leisurely few hours paddle towards our first planned camp.  As we'd both had long-ish drives to reach Mallaig we had no intention of pushing hard to make distance, it just wasn't that sort of a day.  A light breeze from astern helped push us gently along as we paddle-sailed a shoreline alive with the sounds of Willow Warblers and echoing to the calls of Cuckoos.

Arriving at a camp we've used before is a bit like meeting an old friend; one looks for the subtle changes and reminisces about good times.  We were pleased to see not much had changed here and that the bracken hadn't started reaching up, making for a better range of pitches.  We got our tents up, enjoyed a coffee and then went for a walk.  Douglas and I both enjoy the off-water parts of a sea kayak trip as much as the paddling, exploring and just being in a place adds so much to the experience.

We climbed above the shore and through woods of birch and oak to a stretch of higher ground which had clear signs that this now deserted shore was once worked by a community.  "Run Rig" furrow marks were everywhere, testament to back-breaking work over generations to make something of the poor, acid soils by fertilising with seaweed and dung.

Croft houses, some little more than a gable or a "rickle o'stanes" dot the ground near the shore.  It's likely that the occupants had been moved from better agricultural ground inland to theses far edges to make way for sheep in the years of the Clearances.  The houses had a superb situation, but a view won't feed your family and this was subsistence living at the extreme with starvation an ever-present threat.

Near the ruins of a more substantial house was this tractor which is slowly being consumed by rust and the boggy ground.  We could make out that the engine was a Standard make, but little else - it would be fascinating to learn something of its story.

Just around here we were treated to one of the experiences which really make a trip.  Overhead we heard the distinctive "kyow-kyow" call of a White Tailed Eagle.  looking up we saw not one but two birds flying purposefully overhead.  But things got even better; a third, absolutely huge eagle (an adult female we think) launched from a nearby crag and engaged the two overflying birds.  Twisting in mid-air and presenting its talons seemed to intimidate the two birds which flew quickly off.  Then the third bird was harried relentlessly by a pair of Ravens which mobbed it all the way back to the crag - it was a great wildlife spectacle!

It was only four or so hours into our trip but already it felt that we'd been amply rewarded for making the effort to get out!  Returning to our camp we gathered driftwood and some fallen birch branches for a fire and started to think about getting dinner prepared....

An anything but "dry" January

January can, in some years, be a month of enforced abstinence from most outdoor activities.  Limited daylight, often hostile weather and low temperatures can combine to make things a bit of a challenge.  this year, with more free time, I was keen to grab opportunity where I could, work with the weather and just generally "seize the day".  

I did at least one walk every day, averaging 13km per day across the month in a variety of conditions from the sublime to the downright nasty.

 

When the snow came in heavily, accompanied by strong winds and drifting....time to switch from walking to skiing!

There were a few days of really good conditions for XC Skiing right from home

A spell of settled weather in the north west of Scotland tempted Allan and I to plan a few days kayaking

...amply rewarded by some superb winter paddling conditions.....

..and some great wildlife encounters.

Generally amenable if breezy weather gave good opportunities for gravel riding in the Cairngorms...

...and several rides closer to home, such as here on Lord Arthur's Hill on the Correen ridge.

So, January proved to be anything but a "dry" month for outdoor ventures; the trick now is to keep it up for the year!

A Fyne afternoon for a swim

Replete and refreshed from our second breakfast in Tarbert, we headed south down the Kintyre shore before crossing back to the Argyll shore of Loch Fyne.  Conditions remained absolutely perfect with calm water and warm sunshine - we had to keep reminding ourselves it was still March!

Close by the Argyll shore we landed on the tiny island of Sgat Mor (the name is possibly Big Skate after the fish).  We were delighted to find this tiny shell sand beach on which to take a leg-stretch.  We didn't stay long as the island is home to a colony of Great Black Backed gulls who voiced their displeasure very forcefully.

Sgat Mor has a small navigation light in a tower on the highest point, and for good reason.  It seems to have been a regular shipwreck site and even with the light has seen groundings, the latest in 1994.

Our plan for the day was to reach our intended camp site early in the afternoon so that we could take some time to just enjoy the great weather, rather than cranking out distance.  Soon after leaving Sgat Mor we arrived at a spot we'd scoped on the way past the previous day.  Donny was already there and had enjoyed a doze in the sunshine; you'll be able to see this trip in video on his Youtube site.

We soon had the tents up on a patch of turf above the beach, which was backed with colourful early Gorse and alive with birdsong.  A couple of hours were spent just relaxing, collecting firewood and airing out kit.  As is the way of things, the time slipped by really pleasantly doing, essentially, not a lot.  This is an important part of these journeys for me, when all that's necessary is to keep fed, warm and comfortable all life's other hassles and stresses can be put on hold as doing pretty much nothing takes up all my time.

Our camp looked straight across to the hills of Arran which were in a blue haze.  Strips of sea mist around the north of the island made it appear to be floating above the sea rather than rising from it.

As the afternoon wore on the warmth increased and the light took on a lovely quality.  We were all rather warm in just t-shirts and light trousers and so a swim was debated.....

Donny, Allan and I took the plunge and can report that the water was on the bracing side of refreshing, but that once immersed it was a brilliant experience.  We emerged invigorated and dried off in the warm sunshine.  Only once have I swum in the sea earlier than 25th March and that was in similar conditions in the Sound of Arisaig - in February of 2013!

 After getting dressed and cooking a dinner of  home made Spaghetti Bolognaise courtesy of Raymond, we built the fire using some larger logs to contain and reflect the heat.  The early evening light was promising something special, so we finished all our camp chores and prepared for the light-show.

A noisy morning and a quiet day

I slept fairly well at our first camp site, but only until the first hint of light.  the clear, fluting song of a Blackbird singing solo was the start of the dawn chorus, and was a strikingly beautiful sound in the quiet dawn.  What was neither beautiful or quiet were the many geese, a Raven, a Pheasant and several Oystercatchers who joined in soon afterward, a more discordant dawn chorus would be difficult to imagine!

No matter, it was a lovely morning when we emerged from the tents, and surprisingly there was absolutely no condensation on the tents or the ground - quite unusual for this time of year.  The sunrise was a slow and stately affair, the forecast for overcast and hazy but warm conditions looked pretty accurate.  I never underestimate the privilege of waking up in places like this....we were less than 60km/40 miles from the very centre of Glasgow, Scotland's busiest and most populous city and yet we might have been in another world.

The party would split here; Douglas and Mike would head back to Portencross on the Ayrshire coast, Donny would head off to explore in his F-RIB with the possibility of joining up with us later in the day.  Raymond, Allan and I would head back north into Loch Fyne.  It had been great to catch up with everyone - I've so missed these journeys with good friends during the pandemic.

As we paddled back up the west side of Inchmarnock we were accompanied by the noisy neighbours; a flock of Canada Geese and small groups of Greylag Geese.  They allowed us to get fairly close, then splashed their way airborne in noisy indignation to land just ahead and repeat the process - why they didn't just fly around behind us I've no idea!

This was a strange day of weather; neither cold nor warm, calm with absolutely no wind, dry and with soft-focus light.  I'm sure that the conditions subconsciously affected our pace and energy - we all remarked on being a bit lethargic during the day.

At the mouth of Loch Fyne the Ardlamont buoy sat on top of its reflection, perfectly still

I'd had a very distant view of dolphins - which Donny later confirmed as Common Dolphins.  For some years a lone Common Dolphin nicknamed "Kylie" (as he frequented the Kyles of Bute) had made a permanent home near the buoy and had, it seems, been able to communicate across a species boundary with Harbour Porpoises but there was no sign of him when we paddled past.

Near to Ardlamont Point we heard a familiar high pitched chatter and looked along the cliffs to get a great view of a Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) arcing out over the water before returning to the crags - a really lovely sight.

I got quite tired paddling during the afternoon, maybe out of practice, maybe the strange weather, and took almost no photographs.  We trimmed our plans to head right up into Loch Fyne and instead headed to a beach recommended by Donny as a potential camp site.  Arriving mid afternoon after meeting up with Donny gave us plenty of time to select the best spot and to gather driftwood for our evening fire.

The wood was very dry and lit immediately, soon developing into quite a hot fire.  Purists can relax, the apparent proximity of the can of Brewdog sports recovery drink to the fire is an effect of the camera - the can (chilled in a nearby burn) was well out of range and no Brewdog was harmed during the making of this blog post.

 Dinner was Allan's excellent Venison Casserole, eaten around a fine fire (a Fyne fire?!).  All of us were tired and we headed to the tents pretty early with the promise of another fine Fyne day to come.

A very special induction

The third week of March promised some very fine and warm weather in Scotland.  Having studied the forecasts and checked availability we decided on a sea kayak trip over four days and three nights in the Firth of Clyde and Loch Fyne.  Allan, Raymond and I would start near Tighnabruaich in the West Kyle, Donny would launch his F-RIB from the same spot and Douglas and Mike would kayak from Portencross on the Ayrshire coast to join us for an overnight camp.

Our planning was very flexible, there was no fixed itinerary other than getting out on the water for a journey and to enjoy the fine weather.  From previous knowledge of the area we had several potential wild camp sites in mind for our first night and were able to keep in touch through the day to decide which one would work best for our varied starting points and times.

It's a fair drive from Aberdeenshire to Tighnabruaich, but Allan and I made good time and after stopping for brunch en route we were packing the boats shortly after 1pm - Raymond arrived a few minutes after us from his home near Stirling. We noted Donny's car in the parking area so he was on the water already, a message from Douglas and Mike indicated that they had set off late morning and the weather could not have been better....the plan was coming together!

We paddled south down the West Kyle of Bute and past Ardlamont Point into open water at the mouth of Loch Fyne, it was a cracking day to be on the water.

The slight breeze dropped completely as we crossed to the north end of the island of Inchmarnock - a couple of messages exchanged just as we set off had confirmed our meeting point as the south end of the island where we knew we'd get a good camp site provided that it wasn't inhabited by cattle.

We couldn't quite believe the conditions we paddled in...warm sun on the face, a heat haze and perfect reflections on mirror calm water.  All the more remarkable, conditions were due to be similar for the whole week - and the clocks hadn't even gone forward!

We landed at the shingle spit at the north end of Inchmarnock for coffee and a leg-stretch, greeted by this bright orange Seven Armed Starfish (Luidia ciliaris) which was a very neat colour match with the deck of my Cetus MV.  

"Inchmarnock" means Marnoc's Island and is named for the Celtic monk St Marnoc.  His name appears in several other place names in south west Scotland including the town of Kilmarnock.  Near where we landed a stone "cist" or burial container was excavated to reveal the remains of a Bronze Age lady buried with a jet bead necklace and a finely made dagger.  the remains were carbon dated to about 3500 BC and the lady (subsequently named the "Queen of the Inch") re-interred beneath a heavy glass pane.

Rested and refreshed, we paddled at a relaxed pace down the west side of Inchmarnock, sighting deer and a Peregrine Falcon along the cliffs.  It didn't feel like an afternoon to be rushing along.

In fact, quite the opposite, this was an afternoon to take things very easily and to enjoy the beautiful weather.

A call on the VHF radio from Douglas alerted us that we were just a few hundred metres from the beach above which we'd camp for the night.

Image courtesy of Dr Douglas Wilcox

Douglas took this wonderful panoramic image of Allan, Raymond and I just about to arrive at the camp site; I think it really sums up the day and the superb position.

From the water the position is no less superb, a gently shelving shingle and pebble beach with an area of flat turf above.  This place is sometimes frequented by the herd of Luing cattle which are grazed on Inchmarnock - this breed can be aggressive and don't make good neighbours if camping.  It's their home, so if they're around we go elsewhere to camp!

 After putting up our tents and settling in we joined Douglas, Mike and Donny for dinner around the camp fire.  this early in the Spring there was plenty of driftwood for a fire to be lit below the high water mark.  Raymond, Allan and I had each cooked a fresh meal for one night of this trip - we started this evening with a chilli con carne and rice, accompanied with a glass of red wine - no need to rough it!

This trip was significant for a couple of reasons, the first being that this was the first time we'd been out together for some time, and the first overnight trip of the year for most of us.  The second reason was that all the people on the trip apart from me are retired or semi-retired....and I was imminently to retire.  So, this was a very special induction into the club!

Sat by the fire on a lovely evening in a superb location, sharing a dram with good friends....I think I could get to like this retirement thing! 😊

Leuchan, Looking

October in Scotland can have some stunningly good weather, and a warm, clear early October day was too good to miss.  Allan, Lorna and I met up in the Deeside town of Ballater for a round of a hill suggested by Lorna, and one which I hadn't previously walked.  We left the town and crossed the River Dee on the fine stone Royal Bridge and left the road to join an old track through pines and larches, the track a cushion of fallen needles dappled with sunshine.

The track climbs very steadily at an easy-to-walk angle out of the wood and takes a curving line towards a distinct notch on the skyline.  Below us (to the left in this image) a very large "parcel" of red Deer hinds moved across the grassy ground with two huge stags in attendance.  the stags were roaring repeatedly and one charged the other, sending it trotting away.  In reality one stag has absolutely no chance of keeping a group of over fifty hinds through the rut - he has his hands full!  As we climbed further we saw numerous groups of hinds marshalled by stags, the hill slope echoing to their roar.

A chat with an estate stalker who was driving down the track gave an excuse to pause on the climb and we got some really interesting insight into management on this piece of ground.  A group of clients were out with the head stalker shooting grouse, we asked whether our route would be a problem - which it wasn't.

The views were really starting to open up as we reached the skyline notch and climbed above it towards the summit of our hill, Cairn Leuchan.  On a knoll above the path, the distinctive shape of a mountain hare could be seen...but something didn't seem right....it was stock-still.  we walked up to investigate....

..and found this fine fellow called "Leuchan" from the hill, looking fixedly across Glen Muick to the distant Lochnagar.

Leuchan appears to be made from resin or a similar construction and even has his own stone name plate.  I've come across a similar sculpture on a hill the other side of Glen Muick previously and I still have no idea who installed them - but as pieces of art in the landscape they're fine by me!

We left Leuchan, looking, to his contemplation and continued towards the summit of Cairn Leuchan.

It's a short but steep climb to the outcrop forming the summit of Cairn Leuchan.  At 700m/2297ft it's neither a high hill or on any particular list of hills, but it is a very fine viewpoint.  The object of Leuchan the Hare's gaze, Lochnagar, is very prominent and draws the eye to the south west.

To the south east is another Munro, Mount Keen, the most easterly of Scotland's 3000ft hills.  The path which leaves the traditional "Mounth" route between Deeside and Glen Mark to climb to the summit is clearly visible as a pinkish line.

After resting a while and taking in the view we headed back down to the skyline notch, passing the shooters at their lunch.  We exchanged pleasantries with the head stalker and his staff but were roundly ignored by the clients.

We intended to keep to the high ground and took a short detour onto Craig Vallich, which is a fine viewpoint above Ballater.

The final high point of the day was the 601m/1972ft Pannanich Hill, which was possibly the best viewpoint on the walk.  A wide view through the northerly arc with the glacial lochans of Loch Davan and Loch Kinord as foreground with our "home hill" of Bennachie as backdrop made a super panorama while we sat and enjoyed a coffee.

It had been a great day, with lovely weather - t-shirts on high ground in October is definitely not the norm!  The walk had a final treat for us too.....

Another hare sculpture, also looking towards Lochnagar - maybe there's a pattern here, it's an intruiging puzzle!

The descent from Pannanich Hill back down to the valley of the River Dee is very steep and hard on the knees - we felt that our ascent route had been much the better way.  Soon though the roofs of the town and the fine church tower were in view and we strolled back along more level ground through a lovely wood.

What a great day it had been, another "wee hill" which had given a route of real quality and interest - a good choice by Lorna!