Christine's walking & birds blog

Well, that was our summer! Back to rain and cold winds early today, although it got slightly brighter and warmer this afternoon. I took a drive out Ledmore way and saw my first juvenile stonechat of the year. Tree pipits were singing in a couple of locations, and a sedge warbler was singing low down in vegetation at the side of the road.


Also seen: a great spotted woodpecker and a grey wagtail.

With regard to the ring-necked duck: it was first found on the loch where I saw it, not in Ullapool as I'd thought. (That was a ring-billed gull - it must have been the "ring" that confused me.)

I threw caution to the winds today, left off my thermals, and donned shorts and T-shirt - madness! We drove out to Achnahaird and walked over the shining wet sands to find the little stint still on the machair with ringed plovers and dunlins.


At Old Dornie, we walked out on the cliffs and saw some smashing wheatears - one of them singing and flying up in display, the white sides of its tail gleaming against the blue sky.


It's been genuinely hot today, with very light winds; and now at 11 p.m. it's still 18ºC.

Driving north yesterday, I spotted a duck on Loch Cul Dromannan and pulled into the lay-by. It was drizzling with rain and difficult to see through the trees, so I just clicked off a couple of shots between branches of what I thought was a sleeping tufted duck - in itself interesting enough around here - and drove on. So taken up was I last night with the little stint, that I failed to look at the pictures properly.


The odd-shaped head and the grey flank with white outline seems more like ring-necked duck - which would have been a first for me. There has been a ring-necked in Ullapool recently, so it's not impossible. Even more annoying, on the way home I again got a glimpse of a black-and-white duck - but I'd gone past the lay-by at that point and couldn't be bothered to turn. There was no sign of it this afternoon.

Out on the windy, thrifty machair hobnobbing with ringed plovers and dunlins was a tiny bright wader that just had to be a little stint.

Sgurr Mor

Every time we drive south the sight of this pointed mountain, at 1110m the highest of the Fannichs, reminds us that twice we have been close to reaching its summit, and twice we've decided to leave it for another day.


That day had come! It began when my alarm went off at 4.30am - and after a drive, we set off on the walk two hours later. Greger's Garmin device didn't register accurately the start, which was south of the road by Loch Droma (270m above sea level), but otherwise came in handy for recording our route. The pale blue line shows our walk up Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich in June last year, which for the second time brought us agonisingly close to Sgurr Mor on a day when we assessed our level of fitness - and found it wanting.


A willow warbler was singing as we set off, and two common sandpipers were at the edge of the loch. Walking across the dam and along the track beside the huge water pipeline, we spotted a wheatear; and as we climbed towards the corrie, Greger pointed out two birds flying away downhill - our first goosanders on a hill-walk.



A small green tent stood on the shore of the fairly substantial Loch a' Mhadaidh - the camper was up, and waved as we passed. Meanwhile we needed to get to the north-western side of the loch, and found a line of useful stones at a narrow point. Some were just under the surface and slippery but we just managed to keep our footing. Slightly discouragingly, Sgurr Mhor lies behind us here - the pointed top with the tiny patch of snow.

Loch Achilty is signposted from the A835 near Rogie Falls, and today we drove down there for our first visit. It provides a pleasant foil to the bleak moorlands of home, being surrounded by mixed woodland which includes sessile oaks. Given the still, warm day it was surprising there were very few midges. A male redstart was singing near the road.



We followed a steepish track up to a house, and then a path through grass and bracken to a smaller loch. Three newts were seen in the loch, while a speckled wood was the only butterfly we could find.

If I'd known how windy it was going to be out in Coigach I would have gone somewhere else! But then I would have missed an entirely unexpected sighting - two red-legged partridges on the side of the single-track road. I snapped them through the windscreen, but when I tried to get out of the car they flew - not far, but out of sight.


It was a bright, sunny day, and the walk across the beach and machair was enjoyable. Dunlins and ringed plovers ran about on the short grass and seaweed, and lapwings wheeled in display.

Going back over the cliffs in the increasingly strong wind, I sat down to watch my first common terns of the year; and my first UK whimbrel of the year flew in and landed on a rock below. A tern buzzed it, and it almost lost its footing but otherwise didn't budge. It seemed a bit stunned. I knew how it felt.


Across the headland, there were even more terns, and it was just as windy. Among possibly twenty common terns, I reckon I identified at least one Arctic.


At the time, I picked it out firstly from the longer tail streamers; but the picture, though lamentable, shows the less powerful, more delicate head, neck, and bill of the Arctic and the neater black trailing edge to the hand. I think. Bonxies are back, swaggering across the sky like the bullies they are.

There were quite a few smart wheatears, too, quietly foraging among the sheep. I tried a walk across moorland which was pleasant underfoot as it's been so dry recently; but in the end the wind defeated me, and I drove home exhausted.

I drove north to see if the Strathcanaird whinchat was back on his fence - but no go. Two singing sedge warblers were compensation.


A wheatear flew onto the top of a conifer, and a willow warbler was singing. One cuckoo was heard on the Keanchulish Estate, and a second called from the plantation behind the Strathain recycling centre.

Just before six o'clock this evening, the herring gulls set up a clamour and I ran outside - just in case. Two huge dark shapes were flying in stately manner across the village (away from me of course), obscured frequently by treetops and houses. Without realising what was happening, I snapped a poor pic of the two white-tailed sea eagles locking talons.


Earlier, we had walked round the village on the warmest day of the year so far, stopping for a drink at the Arch Inn. A whitethroat was singing in bushes behind a house - nice garden tick for someone.


House martins have also arrived.

Yesterday we walked round the village and out onto the spit. The tide was just at the height it was one day in late June last year, when we saw a male stickleback guarding his nest; so we found the right spot on the riverbank and looked down on the off-chance - to see this. The male is on his side encouraging the female, who is big with eggs, to use his nest. It seems he succeeded.



Today I was tired and decided on a bit of lay-by birding - with my target bird being a whinchat. I drew a blank in two places and then found an area that was burnt (wildfire?). This held a wheatear and a whinchat - both singing.


I took a walk nearby, finding no tadpoles in the ditch and just one palmate newt. A tree pipit was singing and displaying.


A greenshank was seen on the shore of a road-side loch.

Carn Breac Beag

This is a small hill of 387m (1270ft), standing on the high moors that lie between the A835 and the Destitution Road. It carries, on the OS map, the magic blue symbol of a triangulation pillar.  Using the Cuileag Gorge walk for access, we set off along the road towards Auchindrean on a dullish, blowy morning.

The sheep fields held herring and lesser black-backed gulls, pied wagtails, and a wheatear. Spotting the gate in the fence above, we left the track and climbed up, our spirits lifting as we gained the open country beyond.

Faint fluty calls carried on the wind alerted us to a flock of 39 golden plovers swooping above the valley and hillside.


Meadow pipits and skylarks were on the higher slopes, and a raven patrolled a rocky skyline in the distance; but no birds could be seen as we gained the ridge and approached the trig point.


Looking west to the wild Fisherfield Forest.....


Looking south-east up the long ascent of the A835 - the Dirrie More.....


Sombre, lochan-studded moors stretched emptily towards the western Fannichs.


I was reluctant to leave. This slightly wonky triangulation pillar (FB no S7930) stands in splendid isolation on these lonely moors, and it felt very special to spend time there. But, despite the clearing sky and increasing sunny spells, it was still pretty windy, so after a final snapshot.....


.....we headed down south-east towards the Cuileig Gorge, causing a herd of red deer to set off running.


While we still had the fabulous views, we found a comfortable seat on the rim of a dried-out peat-hag and had our lunch. A wheatear kept an eye on us from a distant rocky outcrop and a red grouse appeared briefly on the skyline.

We got down steepish slopes and found the track that would lead back to our starting point. A treecreeper was busy in trees across the river, and Greger spotted a grey wagtail. Three common sandpipers were buzzing noisily up-stream and down. A couple of cuckoos were calling.

Our walk was seven-and-a-half kilometres long; and once more we found that small hills shouldn't be underestimated. Far from being "just" training walks for the bigger ones, they have their own characters and often provide unforgettable outings.

A grasshopper warbler was heard reeling in a damp brambly place as we walked to the polling station.

Beinn Eilideach

We set out to bag the nearest trig point to home, and drove south along Loch Broom to park in a lay-by at Leckmelm. After half a mile on the road, we turned into a gateway with a sign "Walkers welcome" and set off up the track.