A look back to Loch Maree

We left Isle Maree feeling very relaxed and emerged into bright sunshine and a freshening breeze.  We paddled across to the north shore of the loch to check out a potential site for a future camping trip; the autumn colours were very fine, especially against the magnificent backdrop of Slioch.

We turned downwind to paddle along the north shore and enjoyed a relaxing paddle among stunning autumnal shades; oak, aspen, beech and birch all at different stages of turning.

After threading our way back through Loch Maree's islands we returned to Slattadale to find that in the deep shade of this part of the loch there was still a hint of frost smoke over the water - kayaking through this was a really special experience.

As we loaded our boats onto the cars we watched the light slowly change on Slioch - the name translates as "the spear" and it's very appropriate when seen from some angles, the buttresses rearing into clear air.

As you drive the A832 road back towards Kinlochewe the view of the hill across the loch is foreshortened and somewhat compressed, though still very impressive.

Our route had been a short one, but the day had been superb - for the second successive year Loch Maree had given a day of autumnal brilliance.

Climbing out to the head of Glen Docherty, we paused at "The Viewpoint" to take a look back along the length of Loch Maree and out to the distant sea - it was the end of two cracking days of kayaking, one on salt water and one on fresh water; both special days.

A wish fulfilled on Loch Maree

All but one of Loch Maree's islands are vegetated either with Caledonian Pine or with low wet-ground scrub. But one island is strikingly different...

In autumn, Isle Maree positively glows with colour.  Birch, Beech, Oak and Holly predominate on this small but special island.

We landed on a gravel shore below a very old but vigorous Holly tree, which had a fine crop of berries.  The fruits will provide food for birds as winter begins to tighten its grip, but there are stranger fruits on Isle Maree.

On a west facing slope near to the highest point of the island is the remains of a "wishing tree". Coins have been inserted into the tree for hundreds of years in a tradition that goes back way longer.  A famous visitor was Queen Victoria, who hammered in a coin in 1877. The wishing tree on Isle Maree is associated with curative properties, of all kinds of ailments including what as formerly known as "madness".  The tradition is that the unwell person's illness was transferred to the tree by the offering of a coin, particularly if combined with bathing the person in the water from a well on the island or in the waters of the loch.

The tradition also cautions against taking anything from the island, including pebbles in case the illness is brought back out into the wider world.  It may be folklore, but I refrain from my usual habit of taking a souvenir pebble from beaches when visiting Isle Maree.

On a previous visit I found that a storm had brought down a large branch which had broken what remains of the wishing tree into sections; the tree was an oak but is long dead from copper poisoning from all the old pennies inserted into the trunk.  I reported this to SNH who sent out a work party to clear away the branch and place the parts of the wishing tree in one place; they've done a great job.

In the space below the trees oak saplings are beginning to emerge, taking advantage of the space and light.  In time, this sapling or one of its neighbours may become the next wishing tree........

That previous visit had been in autumn 2018 and I left two coins in the tree for two friends.  Douglas had been suffering from a debilitating condition and Allan was in hospital with a very serious illness.  The care both received from the NHS and the medical technology available in diagnosis and treatment of both have been very successful, but maybe, just maybe the wishing tree helped too....

....which made it even more special that Allan was able to visit Isle Maree having spent many months of the previous twelve hospitalised.  Douglas is back in action too, but unfortunately couldn't make this trip, so there's a good reason to visit again.

Bright blue sky above a canopy of gold and green - this was autumn at its very best

Isle Maree has a very old burial ground at its highest point, surrounded by an even older wall.  A chapel here is believed to have been associated with the seventh century abbot St Maol Rubha (from which the name "Maree" is derived).

It's a fascinating place to explore with some very old grave markers and more recent gravestones.  A rich carpet of leaves and moss covers the whole area.  Having spent a very pleasant hour exploring Isle Maree and walking under the tree canopy......

....the sudden view of the oakwoods on the northern shore of the loch seemed ablaze with brilliance - what a day to be out on the water!

Sight and sound on Loch Maree

There was absolutely no wind when we headed out onto Loch Maree.  Our pace matched the feel of the morning and we spent long minutes just drifting on miror-calm water and absorbing the place.

Our plan was to simply explore a few of the islands clustering the north west end of the loch, so we headed slowly over to the nearest of them.  The westernmost islands have good cover of Caledonian Pine with an understory of  Birch and Rowan, those to the east have little in the way of tree cover, and there's one island which is quite different to the others.  Autumn is a great time to visit these islands; the area is a National Nature Reserve of great importance for the pines themselves which are a genetically intact relic of ancient pinewood and for the rare Divers (Gavidae) which nest here.  In autumn there's no risk of disturbance to the birds.

As we paddled between the islands new sightlines opened up at every turn.  So complex is this area that one could paddle it dozens of times without taking the same route.  A group of kayakers had got on the water after us, but we didn't see them at all in the maze of islands and channels.

Along with sights, there was sound.  Although the Red Deer rut was just about finished we heard the occasional powerful roar of a stag from the rugged hillside on the north side of the loch.  The primal challenge carried right across the water; it's a most evocative sound of autumn in Scotland and I can testify that close to, the roar of a stag is a sonic experience not to be forgotten!

Sight after sound, a fine view opened up towards Slioch, the light subtly changeing on the hill as the morning wore on and the autumn sun swung through the southern sky.

We felt very lucky to be paddling the loch in conditions like these and to be enjoying colour, scene and sound.....

Smoke on the water

You certainly won't find a casino on the shoreline, or a stylish town, but in the right conditions you may get to see "smoke on the water" at Slattadale on the shore of Loch Maree.  Lorna, Allan and I drove from Gairloch to Slattadale for a second day of paddling in what we hoped would be superb autumn conditions.

Slattadale catches the morning sunshine, which was melting away the frost of a cold night.  As the water was retaining some of summer's warmth and was several degrees warmer than the air, conditions were right for the particular sort of mist known as "frost smoke". 

Although strictly speaking the term describes frozen water vapour over the sea, sharply cold air over the fresh water of Loch Maree was producing a similar effect.  Beautiful and ethereal, the mist dissipated as soon as it was touched by the morning sun.






Autumn was everywhere; bright "hips" on a wild rose bush glowed like beacons, frost on the branches melting to silvered droplets of water.

Over all, the impressive presence of Slioch dominates the far end of the loch.  Although the mountain seems close by, it's over 12 kilometres away.

When we got onto the water and paddled away from the shore, the view behind us was of stunning autumnal colour...the purple "bloom" of birches which had already shed their leaves, the green of spruces and the dazzling gold of larches; it was going to be a great day......

Powered up on Loch Ericht

After our hillwalking diversion we had a cup of tea on the shore before getting back on the water to complete our return leg up Loch Ericht to Dalwhinnie. Near to Corrievarkie is the turbine house for a hydro-electric power scheme.  This station produces 2.2MW of power and is fed from Loch Garry in the hills to the east of Loch Ericht.  There's a 55 metre height difference between the lochs which gives the "head" for the water.  This scheme is part of the larger and widespread Tummel hydro network.

A following breeze was very welcome and we hoisted our sails to get some assistance on the long run back up to Dalwhinnie.

Keeping to the eastern side of the loch, we got a good view of Ben Alder Lodge in its grand wooded setting below hillsides already touched by the blonde shades of autumn.  The stalking season would get into full swing a few days after our visit and there was plenty of activity on the estate road leading down the west shore from Dalwhinnie.

Not long after this image was taken the serene, pleasant paddle-sailing ended.  At a slight twist in the loch the wind began to blow in mighty gusts which were rolling down from the steep slopes to our right (east) side.  We assessed later that these might have been turbulent rolls of wind rushing downslope from the steady easterly flow over the high ground but whatever the cause, the effect was very dramatic.

Before we could drop our sails the wind caught our boats with considerable violence.  I was driven downwind at a terrific rate and had real concern about the sail and mast being torn from the hull of my boat.  For a few moments I had little or no control over either direction or speed and just hung on, bracing hard on the paddle with a rooster tail of spray tailing back from the submerged blade.  I glanced up at the top of my mast and wished that I hadn't, the whole thing was being forced into an arc by the pressure of wind.  As soon as it had started the gust subsided and we dropped our sails hastily.  Checking my GPS later, it had briefly recorded a speed of 15Km/h during this gust.

We continued to experience these gusts until near the top of the loch when the wind simply poured out of a valley, hammering across the loch and making for quite challenging conditions as it blew from the starboard quarter at a solid F6 for some ten minutes.  Then, as soon as we were out of the firing line of the valley, the wind subsided again to almost nothing.  Paddling on Loch Ericht needs careful planning, the orientation of the loch catches the prevailing wind but even in light crosswinds the topography will give tricky conditions at times, with the area between Ben Alder Bay and Corrievarkie seemingly a real wind tunnel.

As we approached the dam which holds the northern end of Loch Ericht our return was marked by the noise of traffic from the nearby A9 trunk road and the slightly strange sight of a Scotrail train belting north towards Inverness.

We pulled into the bay near the inflow of the aqueduct which brings water from Loch Cuaich on the other side of the road and railway.  The water in Loch Ericht is used in it's turn to feed the hydro electric power station on Loch Rannoch, and thence to Tummel in an interconnected hydro scheme.

Our paddle and hillwalking trip had been short in time, but we'd done quite a bit.  In a little over 24 hours we'd covered 47km/29 miles of paddling and done a 10Km hillwalk with around 550 metres of ascent.  Allan remarked wryly that I'd managed to plan three days of a trip into one overnight journey!

A small diversion from Loch Ericht

Allan and I were up and about early after a comfortable night at Ben Alder Cottage bothy...and as expected the only sounds of footsteps and activity through the night were of the mouse, and not the ghost variety.  We emerged into a gloriously bright morning...

...and soon after breakfast had our boats packed and ready to go.  Both boats were somewhat lighter as we'd brought in firewood for the evening, some of which was left for the next occupants.  One small advantage of fresh water paddling is that boats don't need to be lifted above a high tide mark, so there's less distance to carry them back to the water...though this isn't always the case....

As we paddled out of Ben Alder bay we got a great view back up the loch.  There was hardly any breeze and our paddling seemed effortless; a nice contrast to the effort we'd had to put in the previous afternoon.

The first leg of our return journey along Loch Ericht took us across the loch and up the eastern shore to land in a bay north of Corrievarkie Lodge; another of the Ben Alder estate properties.  As we passed a fairly narrow part of the loch the breeze got up considerably; something we'd note for later in the day. We changed into walking boots for a short diversion; first steeply up an estate road to a bealach, then a turn to the west ups very steep ground.  It was a bit of a steep slog, but we think worth it....

...for the stunning view up the length of Loch Ericht.  There's no enhancement in this image, the water was really this vividly blue in the crystal clear air (which we were sampling at a copious rate having climbed 500 metres in one steep lift!).

When we arrived at the summit of Stob an Aoinach Mhoir - at 855m/2805ft one of the "Corbetts" the views just kept coming.

Back down the loch into Perthshire, with the entrance to Ben Alder Bay on the right

And across the loch to Ben Alder itself - at 1148m/3766ft it's one of the highest hills around and visible from much of the central Highlands.  The nearest transverse ridge links Ben Alder's plateau to Beinn Bheoil - it makes a superb round and possibly all the better because it's a fair day's walk just to get to the base of these hills.

To the south east the skyline was silhouetted in the morning sunlight.  Schiehallion is prominent on the left - a pointy hill standing apart in a central Highlands view is pretty likely to be Schiehallion.

Instead of returning to the road, we took the north ridge off Stob an Aoinach Mhoir; appropriately the name is peak of the big ridge and kept to the crest to maintain the view for the longest time.   We reckon comparatively few people climb this Corbett via the loch route, the vast majority will use the estate road from Loch Rannoch.

The last steep decent was rough and at the base of the ridge there's dense forestry to negotiate, but it made for a good descent.  There's a good view down to Corrievarkie Lodge - our boats were in the bay near to the hydro station in the far right of this image.

It had been a very well worthwhile diversion from the paddling to climb the hill - the effort was more than well rewarded with the view - save the hill for a good day!

A glow at the end of a long day on Loch Ericht

Loch Ericht has been on my list of places to kayak for some time. A 23Km/14.5 mile long fresh water loch, it  is rarely wider than a kilometre wide and forms a long slash across the highlands.  It follows the general NE-SW orientation of highland faults and deep lochs and is flanked by mountains on either side for most of its length.   I've walked the hills above the loch and backpacked along one side on a long through-route, but not yet paddled on it.

Due to the orientation of the loch, it inevitably forms a wind-tunnel in the prevailing SW'ly winds.  Several tenuous plans to kayak here over a period of years had been abandoned when the wind just wasn't suitable.  But, as September turned to October a period of very light winds was forecast for the central Highlands which coincided with Allan and I being able to get away.....time for another adventure!

We drove to the village of Dalwhinnie at the north east end of the loch.  There's space for a couple of carefully parked cars near to the railway underpass.  A trolley is very useful here as it's a few hundred metres to the water and there's a barrier across the private estate road.  We were soon on the water and underway on an absolutely idyllic morning.

An hour or so  down the loch and we pulled in to a tiny beach for coffee and first luncheon.  With warm sunshine and light winds it felt like summer.  Only occasional whispers of wind disturbed the loch surface and we noted several rising fish.  Loch Ericht is known for its population of Ferox Trout , a form of Brown Trout (Salmo trutta) which are piscivourous - fish feeding - rather than benthivorous - invertebrate feeding -like Brown Trout.  Ferox trout grow to prodigious sizes; up to 30lbs (14Kg) is not unknown.  Their prey may be Arctic Charr or Brown Trout in Loch Ericht, and they may or may not be genetically different from Brown Trout populations in the same loch, a fascinating species of fish.

While we lazed in the sun we saw a Dipper working along the side of the loch towards us.  I associate Dippers with fast flowing rivers and burns; they're common on the River Don near to my home.  Here though, the bird was swimming along in shallow water before diving under to search for invertebrates in slightly deeper water.  It was completely oblivious to our presence until one of us moved; it then gave a splendid double-take before scolding us and flying straight across the loch.

The Ben Alder estate has some very fine buildings on it; this is one of the smallest, the gate lodge on the estate road along the north shore of the loch, which can be rented and sleeps 8 in some splendour.....

....but that's quite bijou compared to the rather magnificent Ben Alder Lodge!  The "big house" for the estate is really quite something and even has a nearby full-sized church.

Past Ben Alder Lodge the view from the loch on the north side opens out briefly to give a great view to Ben Alder and Bheinn Bheoil (on the left) and Sgor Iutharn on the right, with its superb Lancet Edge seen head-on.  On the two occasions I've climbed these hills I've had great winter conditions, hard packed snow high up; they give superlative mountain days.

Across the loch the steep flank of the Corbett Stob an Aonaich Mhoir (peak of the big ridge) plunges directly into the loch, so steeply that there's hardly a shoreline.  There was a great image here somewhere but I failed to get the composition as I'd have liked.

Just past Ben Alder Lodge we'd experienced a very strong headwind; so pressing that we'd got off the water to see if it would subside as we weren't making much headway.  Winds were generally light so this was probably a local effect with some funneling and perhaps a bit of a thermal effect.  Once it dropped we got back on the water - the last few kilometres were a bit of a slog!

Eventually though we tuned a corner into a bay containing our destination for the night, Ben Alder Cottage.  A bothy maintained by the Mountain Bothies Association, it was a welcome sight.  I hadn't stayed here for several years but had good memories of a dry and comfortable place - particularly given I'd arrived in a heavy snowstorm which was followed by a thaw and a roaring flood.

The MBA plaque on a door in remote country is one of the most welcome sights there is, especially when tired!

We got ourselves installed and unpacked.  A party of mountain bikers and a solo walker were camped outside but joined us in the bothy to share some of the spartan comfort of the place.  There is an old story about this bothy being haunted by the ghost of a former resident, a gamekeeper called McCook who hanged himself behind the door.  Great tale as it is, McCook died in his own bed in Newtonmore in 1933 and the tales are, well, just that - the true story is  told on Trevor Hipkin's blog here .

Well after the sun set the glow in the western sky was gorgeous, silhouetting the hills in cold steel-blue and graduating the sky from gold to pink to palest blue - a great sunset.

Back indoors we created our own glow with a fire in the bothy's stove.  We'd brought logs and offcuts of whisky barrel staves in our boats, much to the delight of the mountain bikers who'd travelled in light.  A dinner of venison casserole followed by stewed apples with clotted cream and accompanied by a dram soon gave an inner glow to match that of the fire.  It had been a long day of paddling and the next day would be an even bigger one....we weren't up late.