12~15th November. The drop in temperature coincided with another trip North to visit Mary's mum in Aberdeenshire. Our accommodation was again the excellent (although unheated) Gemsbok Lodge, a large wooden cabin next door to K&A. We ate delicious meals and drank wine in Karen and Andy's lovely house before wandering across the gravel to marvel at the stars before cosying under the heavy hug of 3 duvets, while Alexa played ambient music and the stars crossed the dark blue night sky.
It was bracing. Although the temps dipped below freezing and left a decent frost on the car, it felt much colder, the high humidity seeping into bones and making going to bed a fully clothed experience – with socks and hats staying on overnight and 2 layers of “pyjamas.”
Best item I packed to take North were a
couple of hot water bottles that Mary bought a while back but hadn't
seen active service till now. I thought they might come in handy and
were as welcome as a log fire at the end of the day. I looked out the
cabin windows on the second night and felt I should be outside taking
photos of the stars, planets and milky way but it was just too cold to
fanny about in the dark with a head-torch, trying to find the astro
settings on my camera.
As Mary sat in the car before leaving
Edinburgh I ran back up the tenement stairs three times to retrieve
stuff I remembered at the last moment. One of these trips was for a
couple of tripods in case the sky was clear. The aurora borealis had
been seen lately, and the lack of light pollution in Monymusk made for
impressive skies. Unfortunately the cold weather was just too
discouraging to spend 10minutes outside at 2am – would have
involved putting on 3 layers and a puffer jacket and fumbling camera
settings through double gloved fingers. Too much faff. Back into the
snug bed with 3 duvets and a warm rubbery friend!
But first, a trip outdoors to fill the afternoon of Thurs 13th. The skies hadn't yet cleared and the low grey cloud sat close to the hilltops. Standard Nov weather. Undeterred and keen to offset the calorific damage of such good food and wine, we went for a wander. In the past we have run the trails over the 2 local hills – Pitfichie and Cairn William – in a loop that does 10 hilly miles. However Mary was not run-fit and so we parked the car just beyond Cairn William in a spot Mary had noticed when going out that road. Up a single track road to a small lumpy parking place for about 10 cars that gives access into the hills for mountainbikers, dogwalkers and hikers. We had cameras with us but it was quite a challenge to take an interesting photo in such deadly flat light. Also I spent most of the time complaining about the lack of any wildlife. A distant soaring buzzard was practically the only animal we saw. I tried to get excited about lichens and fungi but failed.
After most of a mile we came across the Whitehill recumbent stone circle. A smallish circle of stones you'd likely ignore if there wasn't a sign. I had cannily taken goretex trainers in anticipation of shuffling through wet grass and my feet almost stayed dry. Mary cursed as the wetness seeped in. We had reckoned on doing about 2.5miles out then turning back. It took us to the point where we recognised the usual route; where after dropping off Cairn William the route heads South and in a circuit back to Monymusk via a mile or 2 of tarmac. We returned to the car finding it was just short of 5 miles total because of course we had wandered round the stone circle on the way out but not on the way back. You can get too much of a good thing.
That night the sky was clear and we
woke up to a proper frost. The forecast was good and sure enough the
skies were blue. We had a chat with the Migster. She was not a happy
bunny. She had hurt her ribs and was mostly confined to lying prone
on her bed. She deeply regretted being 97 and forced to endure the
iniquities of old age. Her advice was to hand in your dinner pale in
your eighties as one's nineties were just full of misery. I have
actually reviewed my outlook based on this. I had previously thought
that being longer lived was optimal and the longer the better.
However I am prepared to believe Mrs H when she says best check out
before you get so old that the only adventure left is trying to
zimmer yourself to the toilet before you shit yourself.
After a chat over breakfast we headed out. We had swithered between Bennachie and Muir of Dinnet. We opted for the latter as we reckoned there'd be zero wildlife up the pointy hill compared to the luxuriant woods around Loch Kinord. Wrong! The weather was reasonable, there were definitely sunny spells but also quite a bit of cloud and occasional showers. I had hoped there would be lots of migratory birds as there is in East Lothian currently; at the scrapes and the mouth of the Esk. Red throated divers, goldeneyes, lots of geese and waders.
we took some home and they were (like himself) very sweet
As we drove to Muir of Dinnet we passed a roadside field entirely covered in hundreds of geese. Probably graylags or pink-footed. Mary said it was impossible to stop on the narrow road with no laybys so I hoped I'd maybe get a photo on the return journey, pointing the camera out the moving window.
there is some edge-of-cairngorms type scenery on the way to Muir of Dinnet
and wrapped up warm
but no torrent
lichens and fungi only
and landed in a nearby tree
When we got out at the M of D car park
we decided to do the Burn o' Vat first and then a loop of Loch
Kinord. It became clear early on that there wasn't much about and we
may be reduced to fungi and lichen again. The whiteboard in the
visitor centre usually has a list of all the wildlife spotted on a
daily basis. I think there was a mention of cormorants and a
mushroom. Undeterred I set off expecting a loch full of waders, gulls, geese and divers. Alas none of them got the email and we didn't even
see cormorants. There was one duck, maybe a goldeneye, seen flapping
off in the wrong direction. Other than that, the water was empty of
bird life. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. It did not improve my mood.
Again
a distant buzzard. It is odd to think they used to be nearing
extinction. I read on one of the social media birding groups how one
of the more senior contributors remembers seeing his first buzzard in
the Lothians area. That it was a rare sight back then (when I was
growing up). Now they are the most common bird of prey you see
throughout Scotland. Very handsome up close, if you ever get up
close. Despite a powerful beak and claws they are big jessies and fly
off at the sight of an approaching human.
The rest of the walk we had to settle for spectacular lichens and bracket fungus on dead birches. A medium sized group of chaffinches sat high in a tree like it was a funeral, and showed no interest in the small pile of sunflower seeds I left for them. There was a selection of vomit- and snot-looking fungi on a tree stump like an obscene smorgasbord. Just to cheer us up. Where were all the geese? (In that field back there on the drive here.) I was more determined than ever to get a passing photo on the road back but they had shuffled back from the road and were almost too far away to snap. Bugger! Oh well, back to base for hot soup and toast lunch.
I had fun trying to photo Craigievar Castle as it zipped by. Most of the twenty photos I took out the window placed a whizzing tree in front of the large pink castle. Until about the sixteenth when I got a shot or 2 of the building between passing trees.
Craigievar Castle
Bennachie
Andy's apples once the frost had thawed
That night we had another spectacular
meal and a glass or 2 of red. I was a little concerned that I might
be returning to Edinburgh slightly more rotund than I left. I have
been trying to get in shape and lose a bit of flab before the
inevitable swimming pool photos in Tenerife. I know it is currently
very unfashionable to try to be slim for going on holiday – in fact
many holiday-makers look as if they have been deliberately plumping
up before disrobing on a foreign beach, however I felt it was a
useful exercise and target.
If I go into Winter carrying extra
timber I am doomed when I put on the usual hibernation
insulation. So I have been going to the WORX gym (which I painted
recently) fairly frequently and trying to do a hard run at least once
a week, to get the heart rate up to max and burn a few calories. If
my Suunto is to be believed, my max heart rate is something like 175.
(It should be 157 since I am 63.) Given that the rough calculation of max bpm
is 220 minus your age, working backwards I have the heart of a 45
year old! (But the figure of a chef.) So there is still a lot of work
to be done. That said I am very much looking forward to doing some of
it on the dirt track near our hotel in Tenerife, surrounded by
butterflies, and in the hotel gym in a week's time. My body does seem
to respond better to warm sunny weather. Fewer complaints. Which is a
relief for everyone.
Errol - an attractive smallish village next to the Tay
no birds!
We got home before it got dark and appreciated not having to wear hats and socks in bed.
The end.
No comments:
Post a Comment