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! 😊

Days like these - a spectacular morning on Loch Hourn

I slept really well at our camp on Loch Hourn, waking early as the light grew stronger.  Stepping outside, this was my first view of the day - the majestic Ladhar Bheinn rearing into a flawless blue sky across the loch.  I've climbed Ladhar Bheinn twice, once from each side of the hill, and had remarkably good weather both times.  It's one of the Munro "superstars" in my opinion and anyone who climbed it on this day would have an unforgettable ascent.

The view in the other direction up Loch Hourn wasn't too shabby either!  The low early morning sunshine was silhouetting the tangle of ridges and spurs around Kinloch Hourn, a very different aspect of the same scene we'd watched the previous evening.

Rather than rush away we took our time to enjoy being in this utterly remote spot on such a great morning.  Everywhere we looked was stunning scenery and we found lots of interest all around, including some strange miniature fountains where the tide was pushing water and air up thorough the saltmarsh areas.

But it was Ladhar Bheinn which held our attention.  We had breakfast facing across the loch so that we could watch the light change on the cliffs at the head of Coire Dhorrcail (on the left of this image) and the gullies and faces at the head of Coire Odhair.

Eventually we decided to get underway and enjoy the view from the water.  We took down the tents and erased all evidence of our second fire; the tide had taken care of the remains of the first one!  We paddled out onto a mirror calm loch for a truly memorable morning's paddle.

It was now mid-morning and the warm sunshine had started to form clouds.  These didn't detract from the views at all, in fact the pattern of light and shade enhanced features and gave depth to the whole scene.  Douglas and I blazed away with our cameras and Donny filmed from "Guppy".  

The backdrop of Ladhar Bheinn was hard to beat, the kayaks tiny underneath the bulk of the mountain.  I took a tremendous amount of images and even now I can't decide which I prefer, so here's a few of them....Douglas' bright red P&H Volan providing a real splash of colour against deep shadows....

...a colour and light gradient as a passing cloud accentuated the warm sunshine against the shadow...

.......Lorna and Allan in a perfect reflection of the dramatic skyline of the summit ridges.....

....Donny motoring Guppy along below Druim a' Choire Odhair (ridge of the dun coloured Corrie)....

Already this was an outstanding day, and it was only mid-morning!  Days like these, they stay with you forever.

 

Reflecting on a Loch Etive journey

Sleep was a little disturbed at our camp on the shore of Loch Etive; the Red Deer stags continued their roaring all night, the sound echoing across the loch.  Just as dawn broke they seemed to quieten, allowing an extra hour's sleep for the humans.  

We woke to a morning filled with promise; a light cover of cloud was already starting to be burned off by the rising sun.  We were pleasantly surprised that there was no condensation on the tents and no dew on the ground, allowing us to pack tents away quickly.

We got on the water before 0900 and headed out to the centre of the narrow loch.  Behind us the ridges of Ben Cruachan looked very atmospheric with streamers of morning cloud hanging in the corries of that great and complex hill.

The north west shore of Loch Etive is more wooded than the south eastern side and was beautifully lit by the morning sunshine, gorgeous shades of autumnal colours were picked out wherever sunlight broke through.

We headed over and paddled slowly up the shore towards the head of the loch alongside woods of oak, holly and birch, set off with a deep russet carpet of brackens which had already "gone over".  We felt that the morning could scarcely be better....until we turned a small headland and got the view we'd come for.

Landing on a shingle shore we just stood and stared before reaching for our cameras.  The dramatic hills at the head of the loch were reflected perfectly in the still water and we took image after image after image.  I'm still not sure whether I prefer the images with the shoreline boulders......

......or the ones without the boulders!  The  head of Loch Etive lies between the Blackmount and Glencoe and the hills in view are some of the best of both those grand ranges.  The sharp peaks at the ends of Buachaille Etive Beag and Buachaille Etive Mor are prominent, with the passes of the Lairig Eilde and the Lairig Gartain between them.  In shadow on the right of this image is the base of Ben Starav, a hill I'd put in my top ten of Munros...it was all pretty special!

We sat for a considerable time just absorbing the views and enjoying the stillness of the morning - after our initial amazed exclamations about the view, words seemed a little superfluous.  Coffee was taken along with snacks to prolong the sitting around, but eventually we knew we'd have to get back on the water if we were to take advantage of the ebb tide further down the loch.

The views as we headed back down the upper part of the loch were hardly poor either!  What tiny breeze there had been had died completely and we paddled on absolutely still water, the only movement was that created by our paddle strokes - and we felt almost guilty when we created ripples on such perfection!

Stands of trees on the shore created great reflections; at times these seemed similar to the fractal patterns in children's kaleidoscopes.  I positioned myself to photograph first Allan..... 

...and then Raymond in the middle of these reflected geometric patterns.

 A wider view shows just how perfect this morning was as we paddled under the sweep of Ben Trillieachan (hill of the sandpiper - though many climbers who've had experience of the famous slabs on the north end of the hill would claim it's "sandpaper"!).

As we left the narrow upper part of the loch we took a last look back at the view.  Our passage back to Taynuilt was assisted by the pull of the ebb tide and we averaged a healthy 8.5km/h without much effort, popping through the narrows on the last of the ebb.

This had been a great overnight exploration of Loch Etive, we'd had great views and amazing wildlife encounters as well as a comfortable camp -  it's a loch I know that I'll return to paddle again.

Midsummer gold

The recent warm weather in the northeast of Scotland has been a delight.  Sitting outside until late in the evenings has been the norm,  in warm, still air which at times has been almost Mediterranean - and with no midges, which is why west isn't always best! The evening of Friday 26th June was just such a perfect evening, at 2215 the air was just starting to lose the heat of the day and waves of scent were floating down from the Honeysuckle at the top of the garden.  The light reflected in a window was beautiful.....

....but it was just a reflection of the real thing - a midsummer "sunset".  In truth the sun doesn't completely set at this time of year here in Aberdeenshire, it merely dips below the horizon and the glow travels from northwest to northeast until sunrise a few hours later.  But it was gorgeous......

Climbing over the wall and walking a little way up the field behind the house gave a clearer view of midsummer's gold - just perfect.  The early morning brought another special sight, a spectacular thunderstorm seen through thick mist, the whole scene lit with diffuse purple flashes of lightning amid crashing thunderclaps - a magnificent start to the day!

From cold to gold on Loch Gairloch

When a few days of very good weather coincided with the height of the autumnal colours and some planned leave from work, it was much too good to miss!

With a firm forecast for settled conditions starting three days ahead, Allan, Lorna and I looked at where we might go.  We discussed various options and settled on two days of paddling, one on the sea at Gairloch and one on fresh water at Loch Maree.  The nights are fairly long in the north of Scotland in the last week of October, and the forecast was for particularly low temperatures overnight.  As we weren't doing a continuous journey it seemed a good idea to use a commercial campsite in the area to allow hot showers and the chance of evening meals in a pub.....no point in suffering unnecessarily!

We had a journey of about four hours from home in Aberdeenshire across the country then north to Wester Ross, so decided to travel on the day before the settled conditions established.  The further north west we travelled, the more unsettled the weather became; the iconic Slioch was playing hide-and-seek through veils of snow showers and it was clear that there had been a good deal of wet weather in the preceding days.

Arriving in the village of Gairloch, we booked in at the camp site at Strath in a very heavy shower of cold rain.  In the hope that it would "soon pass through" we adjourned to the nearby Mountain Coffee shop for a hot drink.  The rain slackened rather than passed through and we got our tents up and kit stowed without getting too wet.

Once sorted out we headed off to walk around to the "other" part of Gairloch - which consists of Strath on the north side of the loch and Charlestown towards the head of the bay.  We were nicely warmed up by our 3km walk (for which you need a head torch after dark, part of the road is unlit) to the Old Inn at Charlestown.  I've eaten here before and persuaded Allan and Lorna it was worth the walk.   Despite the fact that the Inn was closing a for the season a few days later there was a full menu of great home cooked food available, along with a selection of craft beers.  The walk back kept us warm and we turned in early before we got chilled down back at the camp site.

Our tents had been wet from the evening rain, but we woke to quite different conditions with frozen tents from a sharp overnight frost.  The early morning was undeniably chilly but we soon got going and warmed up.

The morning sun takes a wee while to rise above the mountains to the southeast of Gairloch, but when it did things started to warm up quickly.  We were staying at the Gairloch Caravan and Camping Site - a place I've used regularly through the years.  The new owners have invested in brand new toilet and shower blocks which are immaculately clean and centrally heated, and the old shower block has been turned into a "shelter" for campers.  Recognising that lightweight camping in Scotland's north west can have some unpredictable conditions at times, this shelter is a basic building with a picnic bench inside, plus a microwave, fridge-freezer and a kettle.  It sounds simple, but what a difference it made to be able to boil a kettle for breakfast and to fill flasks rather than firing up cold gas stoves on the ground.  In very wet and/or midgy conditions the shelter will be a real haven.  Every camp site should have something like this!

As the sun began to come up, pale golden light streamed around the skyline formed by Beinn an Eoin on the left and Baos Bheinn on the right, the two highest hills in the Flowerdale Forest.  It looked like it was going to be a golden day!

We decided to launch from the slipway at Strath and moved the boats the short distance from the campsite.  This morning was Spring tides and at about half tide the lowest part of the slipway is exposed.  Two locals warned us that it was lethally slippery, there have been two recent accidents resulting in serious broken bone injuries here.  We tried the lower part and none of us was prepared to carry a boat below a line of dark green weed.  Instead, we lifted the boats off the slipway and onto the rocky shore - still slippery but with some angles to work with.  We'd recommend launching from the shore a couple of hundred metres to the east of the slipway. 

In absolutely perfect conditions, we set out into the calm waters of Loch Gairloch (one of several tautological names for lochs - Gairloch translates as Short Loch).  Paddling seemed effortless, the boats sliding through crystal clear water over a sandy seabed.

Image: Lorna McCourt

Our pace started slow and soon slowed further - this was no day to rush.  Lorna caught this image of my boat's bow reflecting with absolute clarity on the surface of the sea.

At times the reflections were startlingly clear, the brain having to consciously process what the eyes were seeing.  Conditions like this are not at all common - when they do happen it's a marvelous experience to be out on the water.

We paddled around the back of  Eilean Horrisdale, enjoying the contrast of golden aspens and russet bracken reflecting on the water, topped with a flawless blue sky.

Continuing west towards the open sea, the beach at Port Henderson offered a first luncheon (or was it second breakfast?!) stop on the reddish-brown sand so typical of this area of Torridonian Sandstone.  What a day it was to be out and about!

An autumnal gem

On a crisp and sunny mid November day we drove a short distance to the pretty village of Monymusk for a walk.  Monymusk has an interesting history, the estate has been owned by the Grant family since 1712 and many of the cottages in the village square are estate properties.

Sir Archibald Grant inherited the estate in 1719 and set about transforming the agricultural land surrounding the House of Monymusk.  When the Grants took ownership the land was boggy, poorly drained, had little in the way of crop or stock capacity and was almost bare of trees.

Archie Grant had a colourful life.  He was a speculator, sometime mine owner and was expelled from the House of Commons after a financial scandal.  However, he proved to be one of the great agricultural "improver" lairds.  He ordered the clearing of ground with stones being used to make field enclosures, introduced crop rotation to the estate including the use of clovers and rye grasses to condition the soil, he planted millions of trees on the estate and was one of the early adopters of growing turnips - a humble crop today but a game changer in cattle rearing practice at the time.  Using turnips which could stay in the drill until winter, cattle could be fed through the year rather than having to be sold.  All these improvements meant a change to the old subsistence farming methods which had existed in Aberdeenshire, and many folk had to move but this was not a clearance in the sense of evicting people to make way for sheep or sporting estates.  His legacy and that of his descendants is a rich mixture of productive agricultural ground, woodland and the origins of the village of Monymusk we see today.

The most important building in Monymusk isn't the estate "big house" but the church.  A stone church has stood here since the 12th century, and it's believed that this replaced an even older Celtic church.  The origin tale concerning the building of the church records that the future King Malcolm III prayed here on his way to a battle with Macbeth near Lumphanan in 1057.  He stated that if he was successful he would build a church to replace the already old building in Monymusk. Malcolm defeated Macbeth's army, captured and summarily executed him on the battlefield, then honoured his promise to build a church.

The church seems very large for a small rural community but was originally built to serve a nearby priory.  The tower was originally somewhat higher than the present one but has been lowered twice, firstly to counteract an unsound wall.  A spire was added which in turn became unsound so the whole tower was lowered further.

The church contains an important Pictish symbol stone and two 6th century grave slabs.  Despite living just a few miles away, we've yet to see these - something to rectify!

Our walk took us out of the village and up through a wood containing some huge Douglas Firs, perhaps planted by Archibald Grant.  The path through the wood climbs gently up to Clyan's Dam.....

.......which proved to be a bit of an autumnal gem.  A path goes over the earth dam and around the small lake, which was probably a mill pond.  The last of the autumnal colours were reflected beautifully in the still water, it's a peaceful spot and several benches offer the chance to sit and enjoy the setting.

At the dam a small burn emerges out to wind down through the wood to the River Don below, rushing through mounds of beech leaves had been piled up by the wind.  We headed the same way, back down through the wood and along the minor road to reach a track which heads back towards Monymusk alongside the River Don.

As from so many places in Aberdeenshire, the distinctive shape of Bennachie's Mither Tap is prominent above the farmland and woods.

In mid November when most of the glory of autumn is finished, the Larch trees have their moment.  This image doesn't do justice to the intense yellow and gold strips interspersing the dark greens of  the spruces in Bennachie forest.  Add in a blue sky and you have another autumnal gem.

In the three weeks since the images in this post were taken a series of autumnal gales, sluicing rain and a little snow have stripped the trees of their remaining foliage.  The colours diminished, it's more about form now.

We soon arrived back at Monymusk but took a short diversion to get a view of the House of Monymusk.  Originally built by the Forbes family and developed by the Grants, it's one of the grander examples of a Scottish estate "big house" and is harled in the pink shade often used in the castles and estates of Aberdeenshire.

Our walk around Monymusk had lasted less than two hours, but on a lovely crisp day had been something of an autumnal gem!