Sunday, July 07, 2019
Sgurr Marcasaidh (except we didn't quite make it!)
Two dark green fritillaries were gliding above the bracken and nectaring on thistles by the side of the track up Glen Marcasaidh.
A whinchat fledgling was on a fence behind Glenmarksie House.
Swallows and house martins swooped and dived above and around us. A bit further on along the moorland track were stonechats, a meadow pipit, and a song thrush. A male whinchat was alarm-calling and food gathering.
We left the track and began an arduous ascent up very steep, rough slopes where now and then we followed animal paths through heather and swathes of bracken. I'm terrified of bracken now, as this is where ticks are more likely to be carrying Lyme Disease. I had a scare last year, with a tick bite turning into a large target-like rash known as an erythema; a two-week course of antibiotics dealt with it, but now I'm even more wary of tick-bites than I was before. Just up the slope ahead, a snipe erupted from the bracken, flying a short distance before dropping down again; some creatures obviously like the stuff!
Ravens patrolled the skyline as we climbed. A small frog hopped out of our way. This tiny white flower is probably chickweed wintergreen.
The flank of the hill went up in waves, or ledges, with slippery wet grass in places and outcrops of rock to scramble up. We leaned in to the hill so that our rucksacks wouldn't pull us backwards, sometimes scrabbling with our hands; and by the time we reached the ridge we were exhausted. The song of a skylark greeted us, and where we chose to have our lunch, two painted lady butterflies flew about and squared up to each other in the clear air, landing frequently on the rocky knoll of the unnamed top (560 metres) as though they disputed our right to be there too.
We had wonderful views of the route we'd taken from the power station and beyond - along Strathconon and Loch Achonachie and out to the Beauly Firth.
Greger didn't feel like continuing, but generously offered to wait in this nice spot while I walked on to the trig point at the highest point (580m) of the ridge - which we thought we were looking at. But I was tired as well, and with the descent down that same steep ground ahead of us, I reluctantly decided against it. When I walked out onto the shallow col and up onto a nearby top, I discovered two things that removed any lingering doubts. Firstly, the northerly wind that had met us as we gained the ridge had strengthened, and was now quite unpleasant - and cold. Secondly, I got a different view of the rest of the ridge - and realised that there was more than we'd thought - with yet another top after the one we'd been looking at, and then the trig point beyond that.
Zoomed in quite a lot......
At least I can say I've seen it!
After wandering about on the ridge (it's a wide airy ridge and must be a pleasure to walk - but getting up onto it at the end nearest the power station in order to walk the whole length was ruled out after reading other walkers' reports of shoulder-high bracken and knee-high heather on ground just as steep as the place we'd come up) and enjoying the views, I said I was ready to go down and let Greger go ahead. He's a good leader and found a slightly less punishing line back down to the track.
A female whinchat was seen this time, some distance from the male and possibly one of a different breeding pair.
We saw the male again, and I listened carefully to the alarm call of both birds; not unlike a stonechat calling - "wee-chack" - but softer. I think I'll know it again.
As we crossed the bridge back to where the car was parked, the whole scene - the deep dark water of the River Conon, the rocks with clumps of heather, the power station - made me think of Sweden. When I told Greger, he agreed, and even thought he knew the place I meant.
I guess he must get homesick sometimes - but he's off to Sweden tomorrow, to renew his passport and look up family and friends. And me? I'll be birding from dawn to dusk - or that's the idea, anyway!
(Other encounters: buzzard, blackcap heard singing, slow worm on the track.)
// posted by Christine @ 1:53 PM 
