Thursday, June 27, 2019
Ben Wyvis (yet again)
It's just after 7 am. We've taken about 40 minutes to walk up through Garbat Forest, and the lingering bands of cloud are being rapidly burnt off by the sun.
We weren't first in the car park this time, and soon we meet a man walking down and later, a woman with two dogs. The dogs run downhill towards us barking; they turn out to be harmless but my heart sinks as I reflect that they have probably been careering about on the plateau, chasing anything delectable away. Obviously there are no ptarmigan to be seen at the rock!
However we don't think there's anyone else, and we reach the top of An Cabar with no walkers in sight behind us and the empty plateau stretching invitingly ahead in the sunshine; a bit different from last week, when we couldn't see more than twenty metres. We've agreed to carry on past the trig point if we reach it without a dotterel sighting, and take in the bealach and the last top on the main ridge of Ben Wyvis.
I scan the ground all round as we walk, but it's Greger who suddenly stops and says "Look!" and there on the skyline ahead, is the unmistakable profile of a plover. The light's behind it, and I think it might be golden - but no! It's a dotterel.
The plumage isn't bright enough for a female, so we're aware this is a male - possibly with chicks nearby. But where? He runs about on the skyline, then comes towards us, then circles round us. We're confused, and can't work out where the chicks might be, and where he wants us to move away from.
We walk on carefully. I'm elated, and Greger confesses that he had been putting an unusual effort into locating a dotterel before we reached the summit - just so we didn't have to take in the last top! I'm also relieved, as I'm finding it hard work today.
We lunch at the trig point, with the summit to ourselves. The only downside is a swarm of black flies. A Sericomyia sp. hoverfly is also on the summit rocks but disappears before I can snap it, and this (probable) noon fly is on the trig point.
A wasp lands nearby. (Later: I put this down as a common wasp at the time, but given the extent of yellow on the face, I think it could be a tree wasp. Dunno.)
In August 2016 I was surprised to see a wasp at 773 metres above sea level; well, this is 1,046 metres.
We spend over an hour on the top and even then I'm reluctant to leave, trailing behind as Greger sets off back along this lovely ridge. Loch Luichart is seen to the right.
We go carefully when we approach the place where we encountered the dotterel, but are convinced that it's gone down the slope and out of sight. Then there is a movement a metre or so from our feet - and there is the dotterel, walking a few paces before turning and looking back at us, and standing rather nonchalantly on one leg.
He doesn't seem agitated this time, and we assume his chicks are safely hiding in the carpet of woolly hair-moss well away from the path. Then the adult bird begins to move further off and Greger points to our right, where something is scurrying after him - two chicks!
Plover chicks tend to be appealing, and these are no exception. The parent leads them down the slope, and we carry on. Other walkers are now appearing in the distance, so if we feel guilty at disturbing them we can at least take comfort in the knowledge that sooner or later, they would have to leave the path anyway. Probably a good thing - they're so well hidden, they must run the risk of being trodden on!
The thing is - were the dotterel chicks actually on the path all the time? Like the ptarmigan lower down being attracted to the man-made steps, it seems that the dotterel liked the eroded path - the path that we're asked to keep to while a parallel eroded path is restored to vegetation - all for the sake of the dotterel! So perhaps we walkers aren't so bad for them after all.
A young man with a border collie (on the lead - hooray) greets us, and other people start to pass - some on the path, some not. Reaching An Cabar again we look back across the summit plateau that we might never see again.
We drop down to "Ptarmigan Rock" where we shed a few layers of clothing, as the day is now very warm.
A frog is seen in a pool in the forest, and close by two large red damselflies are mating. A red admiral butterfly dances past. Greger says that he will worry about those chicks now, and I know what he means. Which reminds me: early this morning, as we left Ullapool, a pine marten crossed the road in front of us - my first in Scotland!
// posted by Christine @ 11:26 AM 
