THE WALK - LONGER THAN THE FAMOUS BYRDS' SONG WAS HIGH!

July.

 The height of summer and it would be reasonable to expect a roasting hot day. Shorts and T-shirts on.

But, no. This is 2015 and the dire predictions of global warming have failed to materialise in the Highlands and it is grey, a bit damp and it could be a bit warmer. It has been like this since May. It shows no sign of changing. I may be suffering from SAD. I am certainly getting a bit cheesed off with it, I can tell you.

But this is supposed to be about our walk, so I won't.

 

Anyway, Dave and Sandra had picked a gentle 2 mile stroll from Carrbridge to Kinveachy and back. Sorry, did I say 2 miles? It turned out to be nearer 9. I measured it when I got home two days later.

They had deliberately chosen a walk to pass through forest to give us some relief from the blazing sun. Just as well the sun didn't blaze down. At 9 miles long we might not have  made it through the heatwave! I know that Dave struggles with the intricacies of the golfing handicap system, so I know numbers are not his strong point. Sandra, however, was a teacher and has no excuse for not knowing how far we were going to be walking.

 

So, now that I have the lack of summer and the distance off my chest, I will get back to the blog, which is supposed to be a true and accurate reflection of our walk.

 

The car park in the middle of Carrbridge, is adjacent the public toilets. Some of us couldn't walk past them! When they said dinosaurs were intercontinental, some of us thought that meant we had to go to the toilet a lot.

Robin had already started unbuttoning his flies before he got to the toilet door.

 

 

Jimmy waited patiently for Jacque....

 

....who had brought her own car.

 

Soon we were walking on the forest's ferny floor,(pace RLS) nicely sheltered from the non-existent blazing sun.

 

Before too long it was time to stop for a photo on a bench with some owls.

Of the three photos taken, this was the only one that had them all looking at the camera. Not the owls, they were always looking at the camera, because I had cleverly positioned myself so they had no choice.

More walking in the sheltering forest.

 

The forest was full of wood ant nests. Here are a couple of photos of these nests.'

Remarkably (or not) there is a wood ant website.

I will save you the trouble of going to www.woodants.org.uk by giving you a flavour of what it is all about. Of course, some of you will read this and be so thrilled that you go to the website yourselves. I can't be responsible for any other stuff you might come across when surfing the web.

 

 

There is a Wood Ants Steering Group. It looked to me that they knew where they were going by themselves. Membership of the Group is by invitation only. I wonder why. Apparently Wood Ants are a fascinating group - a bit like The Beatles, I expect.

Generally the ants we saw were likely to be Formica rufa. Who knew that ants had a whole range of kitchen worktop finishes named after them? There are typically 250,000 ants in a nest. The human brain has 10000 million cells. An ant brain has 25000. A colony of 40000 ants equals one human brain.  This is according to the website. My arithmetic makes 25000 times 40000 to be 1000,000,000 - only a tenth of a human brain. So, there may be something wrong with my arithmetic or with the website.

In any event a big 250,000 anthill is equivalent to a bit less than two thirds of a human brain or six and a quarter people's brains.

Due to this confusion, I started to look on the web for more information on brain cell numbers. This was a mistake. Firstly, there is considerable difference between scientists about what exactly your brain is and therefor how many cells it has. Also, do Neurons count as cells? Commonly, glial cells are thought to outnumber neural cells by 10 to 1. In fact, by some definitions of brain this could rise to 25 to 1.

At that point my brain cells (neural and glial) were getting full up, so I gave up and went back to the ant site and noted that MSPs were becoming "Species Champions" to help protect Scotland's endangered wildlife. Luckily our system of proportional representation means that Tory MSPs are protected from extinction. Notably, Jamie McGrigor, the Highlands and Islands Tory MSP is, rather aptly, the Species Champion for the Narrow-headed Ant.

 

That's enough of ants and brains, lets get back to the walk.

Next up on this nature filled walk was this sign. Now I am a bit of a twitcher and I know that this is a picture of a dog and not a capercaillie.

 

More nature - a roe deer in a field.

A view of the hills to the north and the unrelenting grey skies. Have I mentioned that this summer has been particularly grey and dull and cold and wet and altogether a pain?

Should I explain how the extremes of warm summers earlier this century affected wood ant behaviour?

Sharon says she will leave me if I do. So here goes.....

 

A nice group of buildings well integrated with their surrounding environment.

 

It was actually becoming a bit muggy by now. Not bright and sunny like you would expect in any kind of normal summer, but certainly warm. Time to stop for a water break and to take some layers off.

Further on and back in the trees we were shadowed by a wicked witch. Well, actually it was an old plastic hay bale bag. The kind of thing that is found all over agricultural areas and is doubtless responsible for at least a degree of climate change. Talking about climate, have I said how bad this summer has been?

An abandoned van. Probably left by the farmer who owned the black plastic. You can easily see how they get themselves the reputation as stewards of the countryside.

In fact it was not the farmer who left the van but the A I Technician. For those townies among you this is the Artificial Insemination technician who goes round all the farms with very long gloves.

 

We also came across Clyde, the Commonwealth Games Mascot.

 

A little further on, we found a rather nice little cottage garden.

The sheep were a little wary of strangers. Luckily Hugh was not with us.

To tell his joke about nicknames, I mean - I can't imagine what else you were thinking.

 

 

This lamb was clearly above his station.

We were soon passing under the railway line heading towards Kinveachy Lodge. An opportunity for a bridge photo you would think. I did. I was wrong. They really were difficult this time. Walking away, looking the wrong way, "get the arch in" "no don't get the arch just get us silhouetted under the arch". You name it they did it. 

 

 

Once I had recovered my artistic sensitivities we headed upwards towards the lodge and the Wade road we were to follow for the second half of our lengthy walk. Did I mention that it was 9 miles long?

 

The Lodge.

 

Almost a view of Cairngorm from the front of the lodge. In any other summer there would have been blue skies and you could have seen the summit. Did I mention that the summer has been awful?

Sharon at the front door.

Luncheon. Standing with arms akimbo was perhaps a bit of an affectation too far.

 

Sandra and Pam discuss the finer points of the effects that the proposed Land Reform legislation might have on estates such as Kinveachy.

 

 

Susan and Robin cannot agree on whose sandwich is the bigger. This long running argument was to surface again over scones and tiffin later in the day, to the embarrassment of everyone else at the table.

 

A moth.

 

Back into the trees along Wade's Road.

 

Fences designed so that Capercaillie don't fly into them. No wonder they are endangered if they can't see fences. They need to modify their behaviour in the way that wood ants have been observed to do, especially in warm summers. Which this hasn't been, by the way.

Any Capercaillie flying into this fence seems likely to kill itself. Have there been thousands of these fences erected and a spectacularly high death rate among Capercaillies that has brought them to the edge of extinction in Scotland?

 

 

A mountain hare that has remained white because it still feels like winter in the middle of July. Actually, it was a tree stump, but you get my point.

 

From out of the trees we emerged onto upland hill farm land. Clearly this had been occupied and farmed for a long time as you can see from the ruins all around. Indeed it is likely to have been farmed since at least the Bronze Age when people were able to farm at higher altitudes in Scotland because the climate was much warmer, certainly than this summer! 

 

A nice old door.

The view towards Duthil.

 

Coos in the view. 

Just to remind us that the conditions on the hill are never far away from winter, (at least this summer) the rescue helicopter flew overhead. Note the grey skies.

 

 

A crooked tree by a crooked wall. I think the grandchildren are influencing the way I think about everything.

Not a wood ant, you will be glad to know, but I was unable to tell if it was John, Paul, Ringo or George.

 

Jimmy stands on a pile.

 

Which turned out to be a wall on the other side.

 

 

The distant A9. Did I mention how far this walk actually was?

 

 

A note on a fence. This was to be retained by any Capercaillies that flew into the fence in the event of them still being alive and wishing to make a complaint.

 

 

 

Jimmy's fantasy.

 

See how he is lingering for another sneaky look.

 

Passing under the now not so distant A9. By the way did you notice that the number of the road is the same as the number of miles we walked?

 

Having walked nearly 9 miles by now nobody wanted to stop and turn round for a bridge photo.

 

Despite the speed of the squirrels, there were no flat ones on the road.

There were plenty of other weird and wonderful things to see in the form of chainsaw carvings.

 

 

Some of the animals were not quite so wooden, though.

 

 

I've seen signs to say don't walk on the grass, but this further illustrates the coldness of the summer!

 

The Bridge at Carrbridge. In fact it is the oldest stone bridge in the Highlands, dating from 1717. By Victorian times, Carrbridge was described as a quiet holiday village on the fringes of nowhere in particular. It certainly took us a long time to walk away and come back - about as it takes to walk 9 miles, in fact!

That was the long-awaited end of the walk and now it was time for tea and cakes at the Kitchen. This was an excellent end to what was really a great walk despite me moaning on about the weather, the distance, the wood ants, the Capercaillies. Oh and did I mention that summer has been a washout?

I can't blame Sandra and Dave for the weather, but the distance, well it could have been worse. Thanks to them for the whole experience.