Christine's walking & birds blog

Meall a' Bhuachaille - the rest of the ridge

We left home slightly later than last time, at about 6 am (a barn owl flying across the road near Leckmelm) and after a visit to Tesco in Aviemore, parked at the Glen More Visitor Centre just before 9. As we made our way up through the cool forest to follow our descent route of last Friday, Greger spotted a red squirrel. Emerging from the trees with the ridge ahead, we were in high spirits. With blue sky and sunshine and without that awful wind of last week it was going to be a really enjoyable walk. Wasn't it?


I got onto two far-off mistle thrushes, but it was Greger who spotted the golden eagle.



A bit further up, a family of stonechats perched and foraged in the heather or along the path or, as here, on juniper bushes.


This is looking back over Loch Morlich; the mountains on the skyline are part of the Glen Feshie ridge which we traversed many years ago - notable for our only sighting of crested tits on a hill-walk. Or will we be lucky again today?


The fact that Greger has pinned back the brim of his hat shows that the wind was already getting up at this point - but, although annoying, it wasn't too much of a problem yet.

It started to really gust as we made our way up to the first top of the day (Creagan Gorm, 732m) - and they were fierce gusts! Here, I look north to Abernethy Forest and Loch Garten. It's difficult to convey strong winds in still pics on open moorland, but I remember feeling as though the wind was blowing the hair off my head - and it was relatively sheltered here!


The lovely ridge stretches ahead - and in the dim and misty distance we could just make out the long profile of Ben Wyvis.


We could see this large erratic boulder as we trekked up an unnamed top; deposited here by a glacier long ages ago, it could be granite judging from the pinkish colour. It was bigger than me - about half my height again.


A red admiral butterfly danced manically by as we had lunch, and meadow pipits skipped around protesting - do they still have young? Not much reason for them still to be here otherwise - unless of course they were juveniles who haven't yet left these breeding grounds.

Wonderful though the ridge was, it was a relief to drop down at last and lose some of the wind. A crossbill flew over calling and landed some distance away.


Eventually we found the track that would lead us back to the car park; and along that track, from an immature pine tree loaded with cones, came a ringing trill. Crested tit! I got one poor pic and then a second one when it flew high into a mature tree. There were at least two birds, but they flew further into the forest.

Meall a' Bhuachaille

We left home at 5.45am. It's always exciting to drive from night into the dawn, and as we drove along the loch-side a tawny owl flew over us. We were in Aviemore by 8am, buying coffee and pastries in Tesco before heading up Glen More and parking by the information centre.

As we set off from the car, three crossbills flew over calling. While we were still on the forest track, ten geese flew over with just one call before turning and flying back over us; I'm pretty sure these were pink-footed geese - which would be a new species for my hill-walking list.



Passing the green loch, we left the forest behind and made our way to Ryvoan Bothy, where we turned off to the left to begin our climb. This is looking back at the bothy and the lochan-studded moors towards Bynack Stable.


That's an area I first walked across in 1997, when I turned south to traverse the Munro, Bynack More - to the right on the skyline.


On the rocky crest all those years ago, I was startled by a sudden croak behind me - and there was a female ptarmigan, crouching just to the right of the path. If she hadn't made this vocal protest I would never have seen her! That walk was 23 km (14 miles) and I didn't see another soul. It was warm and sunny, and for the first time I became aware of the lovely "tundra" carpet beneath my feet; it was the day I fell in love with the Cairngorms.

The weather forecast today was correct in that the day was sunny and dry - but they'd failed with regard to the wind! It was horrendous, and when we reached the summit of this Corbett (810m) we decided to call off walking the whole ridge with its three further tops. Three cheerful men reached it from the other direction at the same time, and kindly waited for me to take my picture; they then asked Greger to take a photo of them in the sizeable shelter, while we decided to continue as it was a bit early for lunch.


We could still make a round walk by dropping to the col and then descending through the forest, instead of following this inviting-looking ridge - but it was just too windy for comfort. The view north takes in Abernethy Forest and Loch Garten (of osprey fame).


This is a very popular hill as it's easily accessible from the road, and from now on we would meet loads of people, coming up by our route of descent. Not a hill for solitude! We were more sheltered from the wind here and able to just enjoy being on the heathery moors on a sunny day. The hillside was dotted with conifers including large specimens of the old Caledonian pine forest.....


.....and crowding in on the made-up path were small thickets of juniper.


A large caterpillar basking on a rock was photographed very badly and found back at home to be that of the emperor moth.


It was nice to be in the Cairngorm area again, and as we're only two hours' drive away we can always come back another time and walk the rest of the ridge.

A nice morning after yesterday's rain tempted us out to Achnahaird. Greger spotted the golden eagle on the way.

The fin in the centre of the picture could be that of the minke whale we'd just spotted breaking the surface, after the ferry had passed the Summer Isles. Harbour porpoises and common dolphins were also seen.



Waiting to re-board the ferry in Stornoway, we watched herring gulls coming low to the water, then landing swiftly, ducking their heads in, and coming up with small silvery fish.


They weren't always successful, but this one was on this occasion.

Back on the ferry, we were enjoying just being at sea in such gorgeous weather - but still scanning the waves in hopes of something special in the bird department. I spotted two dark birds far out and flying strongly, and wondered if they were just immature gulls; but I felt they were a bit dark for gulls and started to snap away, saying to Greger that I thought they were skuas - but not great skuas. And then a birder rushed up to the railing next to us, calling out that they were pomarine skuas. My heart sank as any chance of identifying these potential first-in-a-lifetime birds vanished; but heigh-ho! - we were on a ferry, on a Saturday, and there were loads of other birders on it.... so you have to accept that this is likely to happen. It's not the kind of birding where you can quietly work things out for yourself.




It didn't occur to me at the time, but of course he might have been wrong! However, one at least of these birds seems okay for pomarine, for example appearing to be deeper-chested and -bellied than an Arctic and with fairly broad-based wings. Anyway, I tempered my disappointment with the knowledge that I'd felt they were different, and had at least ruled out bonxies, so I'd got part of the way to making my own find (possibly). Next year, spring or autumn or both, I must get to a headland somewhere and watch out for poms - hoping they'll have the spoon-shaped tail streamers that are diagnostic.



Other birds: bonxies, fulmars, gannets, kittiwakes, guillemots, and shags; and I'm pretty sure I saw a Manx shearwater (a definite shearwater anyway), unfortunately when Greger had very kindly gone to fetch us coffees. No puffins, terns, or razorbills, but still one of our best Stornoway pelagics yet.

I couldn't resist going back to Achnahaird on this slightly less windy and eventually drier day - but what I found was more of the same. It didn't matter. I never tire of walking this windswept area and watching the waders - most of which won't stay long, so I might as well enjoy them while I can. There were many more sanderling this time (perhaps 50+), and a similar number of dunlin.


The sanderling came very close and I could hear them "wittering" among themselves. As I walked back towards the sea two knot came flying unhurriedly low down, one each side of me. If I had stretched out my left hand I could have caught one, it was so close. They went down on the wet sand by one of the channels.



I think most of the migrating waders were juveniles.

On the way home I stopped at Ardmair and checked for stonechats. A couple of days ago there were at least seven individuals here on the sheep fields, some of them juvenile birds; today I could see only one adult male on the fence - but by now it was so windy and cold, I didn't linger. Driving away, I spotted a dark brown bird flying alongside the road - and was able to pull into the lay-by of one of the holiday homes. High above the ridge now, the falcon jinked and twisted after a small bird but seemed unsuccessful in catching it.


My first merlin at Ardmair.

With strong winds and rain forecast we called off our "pelagic" on the Stornoway ferry, and I drove instead to Achnahaird. The car park was almost empty, and I walked out across the cliffs in quite pleasant weather. It was about an hour after high tide and the sands were wet and shining. A couple of turnstone scurried past me, and stopped to investigate a heap of seaweed. I would see at least six today - my highest count for turnstone in the Coigach area.

The calls of curlew were on the air, and I glimpsed two birds in the grassy area below the dunes; but I could see waders on the salt-marsh over by the river, and I headed towards them. A knot came flying unhurriedly past towards the sea. There were at least 25 sanderling (mostly if not all probably juvenile) and six knot - I think all six knot are in the picture.


Then the birds did that inexplicable thing they often do - they took off in a body (with me cursing myself for disturbing them although I thought I was keeping my distance), flew round in an arc - and landed closer to me; so it can't have been me disturbing them.


It didn't help the quality of my pics though, as it was now spitting with rain and the wind had become so strong that I could hardly hold the camera still. However, the photos are better than the ones I got four years ago at this site of seven or eight adult knot.

I gave up and turned, finding it hard to make my way down the beach, as the northwesterly wind was coming straight off the sea and trying to blow me back again. The only other birds seen were a couple of bonxies, a small flock of twite, a family of eider, and a shag.

Ullapool: At least two wheatears were on the beach at high tide this morning.



The turnstone was quite well camouflaged until I (and a woman with two dogs) unintentionally disturbed it. But the dogs went quietly on their way and I got my shot, all without the turnstone flying off.


I note that the PM and his girlfriend have taken delivery of a "rescue" dog at Number 10. Both "massive dog lovers", apparently. Funny that they haven't already got one then. Googling her, I discovered that she attended the annual Birdfair event at Rutland Water in August. In her speech, she said that she was "new to birdwatching" - having recently visited a puffin colony. Funny, again, that she should do that now - when there's a general election on the horizon. Are people really taken in by all this? Give me strength.