Clouds and cloudberries

 

Sometimes, in the face of weakening resolve, our humans need a bit of gentle persuasion, don't you find?

On Saturday morning Gail announced that she thought the cloudberries near the summit of Morven (our favourite Aberdeenshire hill) would be ripe and it was time to go for a forage.

Fine by me.

But when we reached the parking area, rain was splattering against the car windscreen, the top half of the hill was hidden under a thick blanket of cloud, and Gail came over all hesitant, muttering something about maybe a lower level walk, and picking raspberries instead.

Well I just gave her a 'look', which she correctly interpreted as saying:

"Raspberries are easy to find, and really not special at all. And by the way, the clue is in the name, CLOUD-berries. I think we should ascend as planned."

The rain ceased shortly after we set off up the narrow steep path through the heather. We met no other humans. The rounded summit was alive with ptarmigan and mountain hare, although when I moved to make a meal of one (no longer living) hare, Gail firmly pulled me away, asserting, "I didn't mean that sort of foraging Bertie!"

I'll admit I'm not the most patient of berry picking companions, especially when kept on a lead because of poor visibility and enticing wildlife. But eventually Gail located enough ripe cloudberries to serve as an accompaniment to her home made 'no-churn' ice cream when her friends John and Françoise came round for dinner later in the day.

So all in all it was a highly successful outing, and I think Gail is now grateful I had earlier given her that 'look'.

The heatwave proves elusive in NW Scotland...

So Gail and I were planning a spot of hillwalking in Torridon this Easter weekend, but I regret to report that the weather did not entirely cooperate.

While the rest of the UK was apparently basking in glorious sunshine and record breaking high temperatures, our far NW corner of the country was beset by low cloud and occasional drizzle. 

Of course that did not mean we stayed indoors, and lower level expeditions are also a good way to let off steam.

I even braved a paddle (front paws only, mind) in Loch Gaineamhach.

Gail reminded me once again that remote parts of the country with notoriously unreliable weather do have their plus sides.

After all which beach would you prefer?

Brighton beach (South Coast of England)

Or Ob a' Bràighe, Loch Torridon?

Oh and look, in that last photo, you can even see my shadow, just...

Was your Easter a good one?

Hope bounces eternal...

Hooray! We are over in Torridon, it has finally stopped raining, and we are going to climb 'my mountain', Beinn Alligin.*

So the peak is in cloud, but hey, it's the middle of summer, for sure it'll clear by mid morning...

Oh dear. Perhaps I was being optimistic...

Well if you can't enjoy the view at the summit,

Then for sure you can enjoy a chicken chew before tackling the steep descent.

But I have to tell you I was not feeling in the mood to appreciate the view from the kitchen sink during my post walk paw wash...

*Note from Gail: Bertie's 'official' kennel club name is Granddach Beinn Alligin, the Granddach being from the kennels where he was bred, and Beinn Alligin being my favourite Scottish mountain.

Ben Macdui: Excuses, excuses, excuses

I am disappointed.

You will remember that this weekend I was supposed to be climbing Scotland's second highest mountain, Ben Macdui.

Oh but the humans had so many excuses...

Hail and sleet predicted above 900m. Only 30% chance of cloud free summits.  The other two members of the party exhausted after a twenty plus mile hike across boggy wilderness the day before Gail and I arrived. Sore and arthritic toes. Wobbly knees. The list goes on.

So Ben Macdui lay hidden in the mists while I was taken on damp low level rambles through the ancient Scots pines of the Rothiemurchus Forest and to Loch an Eilein.

Which was all quite pleasant, I suppose, if lacking the thrill of a proper mountain expedition.

Before we left, Gail insisted on this photo in Aviemore, sort of as consolation for my wee Scottie pal Dui, since we did not get to photograph his actual mountain.

No, it's not good enough, is it?

Rest assured, I'll be back!

PS from Gail: As not uncommonly happens in Scotland, the clouds did finally clear from the hills just as it was time to head home. On this picture, taken from the car, Ben Macdui is the distant peak towards the left. 

Clachnaben: the promise and the reality

A typical late summer hill walk in Scotland...

Oh, and our friend Alison (in the red fleece) wants me to point out that that is not her normal hairstyle!