TGO Challenge 2015, Part X: A Murdering Monoculture

THE KILLING FIELDS

The further you walk east on the TGO Challenge, the more you come face to face with murder, on an industrial scale. There's nothing new about shooting estates in Scotland; Game shoots have been an established part of Scottish life for over a hundred years. However, recently I've noticed a dramatic change. 

The hills in the east have been transformed from the rolling brown loveliness of the heather, to a dramatic chequerboard of muirburn. Game birds, usually grouse in this part of the world, feed on the young, more tender shoots of heather and so the estates regularly burn the heather in a patchwork to promote new growth.

The extent of muirburn is an indicator of how intensively the grouse moors are worked. The first picture, below, is how Glen Lee looked, in 2002. Mick Coady is cluttering up the foreground, descending from Muckle Cairn. You'll notice that there are one or two patches of muirburn.

2002, WITH MICK COADY

The next picture was taken a year later. My son Oli is standing in a patch of young heather that was probably burned back a couple of years previously. You'll note that the muirburn is substantially the same; I can't see any new areas.

2003, WITH OLI SLOMAN. CLICK TO ENLARGE

Fast forward ten years, to the picture below. That's some change, eh? All the hillsides are plastered with muirburn. 

So why am I bothered about this? Surely it means that the Estate is making best use of the land to maximise the economic benefit of landownership, and providing employment. Yes. It does mean that. 

2013, WITH ANDY WALKER. CLICK TO ENLARGE

Let me refer you back to the title of this piece: "A Murdering Monoculture." I'm not referring here to the chinless wankers who come up to the estates to murder birds for fun, as sickening and despicable as I find their behaviour. No. I'm talking about the Estates' murder, on an industrial scale, of the creatures who threaten the survival, in any way, of the grouse. Be they weasels, stoats, crows, or mountain hares (they can carry ticks which can reduce grouse populations), rest assured the Estates' employees are tasked to wipe them out.

This is carried out with a Holocaust-like fanaticism. They work only with the most cost effective ways of murdering the little creatures. For the birds, it's most often with Larsen traps. Once caught, the birds are beaten to death by the keeper - all quite legally. You can find out more about the many and various legal, and illegal, traps that are used regularly by shooting estates by clicking the link below:

Traps in our countryside, a walker’s guide  

However, you'll also note that many tagged raptors (eagles, buzzards, kites etc) seem to go "missing" around this part of Scotland, occasionally turning up dead somewhere miles away, dumped in a layby. You can read more about this by clicking the link below:

Golden eagle is dumped by lay-by and left to die lingering death

For an accurate take on Scottish shooting estates behaviour, I suggest you subscribe to the excellent site below:

Raptor Persecution Scotland

All in all, it's a pretty sick industry, and one that, like Bear Baiting and sticking children up chimneys, should be abolished.

And now, for the last picture:

2015 WITH PHIL LAMBERT [PHIL'S PICTURE] CLICK TO ENLARGE

Please click on the picture to blow it up to a larger size. You'll note that climbing every hillside and along the top of every hill there are unsurfaced roads. The estates like to call them 'hill tracks'. But they are roads. You could quite easily drive your family car up these. They have all been built, or in some cases, rebuilt, in the last ten years or so. They stick out like sore thumbs. 

They are only there so people who want to go about murdering birds with shotguns for fun, can be driven up the hill in a rather nice Range Rover. These roads do not need any planning permission, as they are there for "agricultural purposes." 

Quite incredible.

When you are next approaching these areas this is what you will be faced with. The Killing Fields.

Suggested further reading on the subject:

The Intensification of Grouse Moor Management

EDIT 15th February 2016

More Mountain Hares Slaughtered in the Angus Glens

EDIT: 13th March 2016

More mountain hares massacred in Cairngorm National Park 

TGO Challenge 2015, Pt IX: Wonderful Challengers

I'm often asked why I choose to walk across Scotland every year on the TGO Challenge. I believe the following pictures answer that question admirably. 

It's the Challengers themselves that make this walk so incredibly fulfilling. You can walk across Scotland any time you fancy, and you will meet some lovely people. But it's in the middle weeks of May that you'll bump into the most amazing bunch.

You can click on the group pictures to make them much larger, but should you want the original full strength horror of an individual photo, just leave a comment I'll get them to you.

I've nicked a few of the pictures, towards the end of the bunch, from other folk, but you'll notice that they get a credit (well, sort of) beneath each picture.

The first four pictures are taken at Tarfside, an established watering hole for the Challenge. The local Masons open up their hall (right opposite the village sports field, where Challengers are allowed to camp for the night) and can rehydrate to their hearts' content at splendidly low prices.

The remaining five pictures are from the Thursday evening dinner at the Park Hotel in Montrose.

I only wish the night had gone on longer as I missed meeting so many Challengers. Well, there's always next year.

Some Challengers seem to have run around the back of the photo and appear a few times. There should be a cull I suppose, but I have already weeded out the truly dreadful pictures and the ones left are as good as they get. Honestly. You do look like that.

Some of the folk in these pictures won't be back, so if that's you, thank you. Thank you for making the event as wonderful as it can possibly be. And for those of you that are coming back for more? I'll see you next time, possibly on some midge infested bog in the pouring rain, with your socks lying in your tent, sullen lumps of cold sodden felt, infused with pounds of mud.

And below are two pictures that Ian Cotterill kindly provided - those having just completed their tenth and twentieth crossings. Thanks Ian.

TENS AND TWENTIES

TWENTIES

So. There you go. Zillions of Wonderful Challengers!

An Autumn Weekend in Wharfedale (Wensleydale...)

With an invitation to a party, I put on my best party frock and zoomed up the M1 to about as far north as is decent for a Home Counties chap, to stay in a rather splendid hotel in Leyburn in the Yorkshire Dales. Martin Banfield was celebrating his completion of Another Pyrenean Adventure, his newly published book of his GR11 walk in the summer, with a dozen or so of his friends.

Leyburn is in Wharfedale, possibly the most beautiful of all the Yorkshire Dales. The following photos are from the walk on Saturday. Should you suddenly be seized by an urge to see a larger version of any of the pictures, you need only to click on them, and they will blow up to an exceedingly accommodating size.

The day started with a cloud inversion filling the dale, which was slowly burnt away to be replaced with gorgeous sunshine, followed by the mist returning late afternoon to add more interest to the photographs. 

You will note that there are only rear views of the various participants; their identities will remain a mystery, rather like those of the Bilderberg Group. I suppose if you hunt around the blogosphere it is possible to fathom a few from the list of attendees. One chap, however, does deserve a special mention. I have followed his exploits on his blog over many years, yet had never met the gentleman. However, on this rather grand occasion I had the pleasure of sharing a room with Conrad, who writes Conrad Walks . He is an absolute gentleman and tremendous fun to boot. I thoroughly recommend you pop over to his place and discover Conrad's world of adventure.   

On various other places in the dazzling world of social media that I'm sure you all frequent, I have captioned the crumbling edifice seen in the picture below variously as Bolton Abbey, Bolton Castle and Fylingdales. Apparently none is correct. Fortunately I wasn't map reading. The sheep don't care either way.

And now, rather like Nicholas Parsons, we approach the sunset hours; The landscape hues fade away, to be replaced by the blazing colours of the heavens.

A huge 'thank you' to Martin & Sue for the invitation and a sparkling round of applause to the party members who made the weekend so much fun.

TGO Challenge 2015, Pt VIII: My Amazing Brother David

Just less than two years ago, on 6th June - 'D Day' - 2013, my brother David was wheeled into an operating theatre in Oxford to have a perfectly healthy kidney removed. As he was wheeled out I was wheeled in, and I have been carrying Dave's kidney ('Our Kid') ever since.

This man's generosity and courage saved my life. I now have three kidneys and Dave has just the one. 

Three weeks before I set off for The Challenge this year, Dave received some dreadfully bad news. He was diagnosed with IgA Nephropathy. He has the same chronic kidney disease I was diagnosed with some thirty years ago.

To say that we and our family are stunned by this news is an understatement.

Prior to this bombshell, Dave had planned to walk a couple of days with Phil and me from Ballater to Tarfside. We thought it would be fun for all four kidneys to make the trip ~ a celebration of life and a small 'thank you' from me. Well, I saw it that way, but I'm not so sure Dave did ~ he's still scarred from our walks together when we were lads.

I'm sure Dave won't mind me mentioning that he was completely knocked sideways by this appalling turn of events, but he was determined to walk with me. I promised his wife, Debbie, that I would look after him and make sure he wouldn't do anything to worsen his condition ~ He was feeling quite poorly.

*****

DAY ELEVEN

So, it's Monday morning, and we wave goodbye to Debs and head off to our overnight stop below Mount Keen.

PROUD BALLATER. CLICK TO ENLARGE

CLICK TO ENLARGE: PHIL BRAVELY SMILING FOR THE CAMERA IN THE COLD AND RAIN

We have barely left Ballater when the rain showers start. Bugger. This is not what I had planned at all! We plug on stoically, now covered head to toe in waterproofs.

PHIL'S PICTURE. ME AND DAVE

KEEPING OUR SPIRITS UP: IT'S NOT RAINING SOMEWHERE.    C/O PHIL

STILL IN STEP.    C/O PHIL

As we approach the shack at the junction we come across this little fellow, as tame as tame things can be, who follows us for a hundred yards or so, before heading back to where he found us.

GERTIE GROUSE. CLICK TO ENLARGE

A FEW STEPS AWAY WE FIND A GROUSE NEST

Having promised faithfully to look after Dave, we drag him on a more unconventional route, trackless of course, through some quite tough bogs over the hills. Should the clouds lift, the views will be stunning. 

However, they don't.

It's a long knee-wrenching descent directly down to our chosen camp spot, and just before we get there, the heavens open. Stair-rods. Oh Joy. Dave is sharing Trinnie Trailstar with me and I have her up in reasonable order and Dave sorts his gear out under shelter while I go for water and a chat, okay, whisky, with Phil. 

It's cold outside, and the rain really is hammering down as I cook our dinners. I think to myself that this really is a very bad idea...

Then, miraculously, just as we finish, the sun comes out! It's great when a plan comes together!

DAVID - A BRAVE SMILE

We stroll over to another cluster of shelters to find a complete parcel of rogues:

PHIL'S PICTURE: PETER, LOUISE, JAYME & LYNSEY. CLICK TO ENLARGE

CARL, COLIN & PHIL. CLICK TO ENLARGE

And so Jayme has dreamed up 'Cocktails and Puddings' - a replacement for the Cheese & Wine Party next year. Quite wonderful!

DAVE: RASPBERRY PAVLOVA! YES, HONESTLY! A PERFECT MERINGUE TOO! CLICK TO ENLARGE

DAY TWELVE

This isn't a big day, but it still needs to be walked. We're not the last away, which is a surprise, and we take our slow and steady plod up Mount Keen. This is not a difficult hill from whichever way you approach, but whenever I've been here it's always been incredibly cold and incredibly windy. Today is no exception. We're in all the clothes we can muster.

MOUNT KEEN. CLICK TO ENLARGE

DAVID & PHIL. CLICK TO ENLARGE

Fierce showers are blowing through on heavy cold winds and so we're now in overtrousers as well. There's the occasional handful of hail thrown in for good measure to grit-blast pinched cheeks. And what's this? Ah. Snow. At a thousand miles an hour. Character forming stuff.

PHIL. CLICK TO ENLARGE

Dave is obviously far fitter than us and is a mere dot on the horizon and reaches the trig point weeks before us.

PHIL HOLDING ON TO THE TRIG POINT FOR DEAR LIFE IN THE FIERCE WIND. CLICK TO ENLARGE

CLICK TO ENLARGE: ME, MOUNT KEEN TRIG POINT.    C/O PHIL

CLICK TO ENLARGE: DAVE IN THE SHELTER AT THE TOP - HE'S BEEN HERE AGES!

CLICK TO ENLARGE: PHIL & DAVE HEADING DOWN

DAVE SNAPS A RARE PICTURE OF BOTH ME & PHIL

I love this next picture of Phil & Dave leading the way down into the valley with the back end of a fierce stormlet racing away ahead of us.

CLICK TO ENLARGE.

At this point Dave is a man on a mission and is haring off ahead. He's seen someone in front that he's going to catch. I wonder if it's a genetic thing?

Phil and I arrive at the Queen's Well. We can see Dave about five hundred yards ahead. Phil breaks out his 'Thunderer' whistle to attract his attention. It is deafening. But nothing. no response. Dave disappears, stretching away into beyond. 

Phil & I sit to have a relaxing lunch, using the crown as a backrest and wind break. Two minutes later and we notice huge black clouds and a wall of death sweeping down the glen - straight at us. We pack up in a dreadful rush, sandwiches and pies barely chewed! In a sweaty panic we have our rucsacks, waterproofs and boots all back on, only to see the wall of death pass by us, just yards away, and we are completely untouched. Quite extraordinary!

THE QUEEN'S WELL   C/O PHIL.  CLICK TO ENLARGE

Just before the road we find Dave sat beneath the trees, seemingly none the worse for his abandonment. He had caught the hares and had walked with them until he thought he ought to wait for the old boys. It's now just a simple stroll down the road, and over the footpath to Tarfside, and we arrive more or less exactly when Debs expects us.

She takes our picture at St Drostans before we all pile in for a cup of tea.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

Dave & Deb leave us and drive off in their super-smart VW motorhome, to a more salubrious overnight spot, their mission accomplished. 

Phil & I flip the tents up on the playing field and head out for a few beers at the Masons' Arms.

I THINK I NICKED THIS PICTURE FROM ANDY WALKER.

My brother David did incredibly well to manage this; Only a few weeks earlier he had been in a lot of pain and had been peeing blood. I really don't know how I can more grateful than I already am to this incredible man, but I am. 

I owe him everything.