walkwithdinosaurs: BEINN BUIDHE BHEAG

October - a month of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

And rain, it would seem.

Once again I was unable to go on the walk and yet they went ahead without me, knowing full well what this might mean.

It means that I will have to guess what was going on from the photos alone, having no real knowledge of what was actually happening.

Not that I am prone to exaggeration or invention.

Anyway, here goes.

The walk was to be up and around Beinn Buidhe Beag. Perhaps the small word "up" explains the small turnout - Dinosaurs are not all known for their keenness to go up.

It might be that some of them have Googled Beinn Buidhe Beag. This takes you to websites like the Inverness Ramblers and Highland Hill Runners, or even Heights of Madness. These are not guaranteed to get you leaping out of bed on a drizzly Sunday morning, raring to go.

Nevertheless, 7 hardy Dinosaurs did get out of bed, but they didn't all actually look like they were raring to go as they posed at the layby car parking spot before they set of on their grand adventure.

They actually exhibit a range of emotions from glumness to bordering on insanity - nothing new there.

Sure enough, up is where they immediately seem to have gone.

Some would say up and round the bend.

Indeed, they seem to be about to pass from some nice looking farmland into some wild and exposed moorland. Just what you want on a grey, dreich day.

They come to the little cottage of Finglack. This is a tricky place to translate from what was obviously an older Gaelic place name. Fin could be Finn or Fionn, meaning distant or fair, creamy coloured. Glack is a bit easier - glac is a glade or sometimes a narrow valley.

They seem very hopeful of good weather and the opportunity to sit outside hereabouts. Plush seats in front of the little cottage just begging to be sat upon in the wild countryside. Everything for your comfort and joy.

Perhaps, the seats are so positioned to allow you to take in the sweeping view of the moorland and forestry ahead.

Of course, the "up" can also be seen.

In such an inhospitable landscape, you are not even allowed to keep warm.

So, on they trudged.

I would like to say it was worth it for the views, but I'm not so sure on the basis of this photo. What lovely vista there might be is a little marred by the bloody great pylon in the middle.

By my guess, and a quick look at the OS map, they are probably on the flanks of Beinn Uan - the hill of the lamb - mint sauce, roast potatoes, perhaps some carrots. I bet they could all have done with some of that just then.

A bit further on and they are rewarded with some nice views over to the Black Isle, Munlochy Bay and beyond to Ben Wyvis.

They can also see pretty far to the west and 50 shades of grey.

Be very thankful that I just noticed all this greyness and didn't hit on the 50 shades of grey theme right at the very start of the blog, because it might have become a bit X rated. Of course, I've never read the book or seen the film, honest.

Here is a picture of Jimmy taking a picture of Jacque taking a picture of Jimmy taking a picture of Jacque. Well, you get the picture.

The Dalcross board plant, or as it is known in our family - the Cloud Factory.

Is Maureen handing out sweeties, or are they lost. No, Hugh was not on the walk, Maureen is handing out sweeties.

See, I told you so!

Finally, they realise where they are. Someone has helpfully planted a map for them.

A jumble of stones - what can they signify.

I don't know, I wasn't there to assess the context, so I'm guessing it was just a jumble of stones.

Who knew Jimmy was once a fisherman?

They seem to believe him when he said it was really that big.

Janet takes an opportunity to check last night's lottery results and is disappointed to find that she cannot immediately call up a private helicopter to take her away from all of this.

Is this it? Have they reached the top of Beinn Bhuidhe Beag? The Little Yellow Hill. Doesn't Jimmy know a poem about little yellow somethings in mountainous places? I'm sure we've heard it before.

Jimmy also spied a nice stone for his walls back home. He will get Jacqueline to carry it back down for him, he says.

They watch and smile as Jacque chases Jimmy down the track.

So, this is where these guys that deface all the signs on the A9 get the idea that the earth is flat. They have confused the world with Caithness, which you can just make out on the horizon. Or is it? If the earth is indeed flat, is there such a thing as the horizon?

No bridge photo on this walk, here instead is something rarely seen on a Dinosaur walk - a summit photo.

Without further ado, they set off downhill with a spring in their steps.

An old tree trunk. Was this part of the once legendary Great Wood of Caledon or is it just a bit of wood exposed in an eroding peat hag?

We'll never know for sure.

A bit of a rainbow. There's no chance of them getting to the pot of gold, though.

They try running down the track just in case they can, though.

It is still there, but a long way off.

Soon they are distracted from chasing rainbows by some strange creeping moss on the path. This looks to me to be Stag's Horn Clubmoss. Honest, that's its name.

It is actually toxic, which is a bit awkward because someone picked it up in the next photo.

Not only did they pick it up, but they waved it about! Luckily there is only one possible toxicity of the spores. This relates to a small number of cases of asthma being reported among factory workers who used the spores to dust latex condoms.

Stick with me and you will find out some truly amazing stuff.

It was also used for fingerprinting and, because it is highly flammable, it was the stuff that used to go bang and flash for old photographers and in fireworks.

Amazing, eh? who on earth thought, " Goodness I need to get some moss spores to take these photos?" As for dusting condoms?.......