A Horizontal Tour of Scotland

[Hobjob]

Originally Posted by operanut1972

Luckily for me I have a lot of room in my sightings journal, which means if I see something my camera is pressed to my face and I squeeze a burst of 6 raw shots on my 550D, the burst rate is better than my G2 Panny, but it's still frustrating when you know that you've missed shots because your buffer is full.

Is there a away of avoiding this and still using the burst mode? My F3's went the other way when I had the motor drive attached. I used to have to remember to hold back, else a roll of 36 could go quicker than a thought! Lol

Easy peasy

New camera and faster card ...............

[operanut1972]

Cheers HobJob,

As I've only just got the 550D and I use class 10 SDHC cards I'll not buy a new camera just yet. I think management might well have a few words to say on that score. She wasn't best pleased when I arrived home clutching the Cannon gear cost me a battering on the old wallet that did! . Still, will bear the burst rate in mind when it comes time to upgrade, maybe next week eh!

[pressld2]

I'm a little ambivalent about high burst rates. I read a review (can't remember which make/model) in which the reviewer, a professional photographer, remarked that "this camera delivers one sharp and five soft shots every second", implying that the mirror bouncing up and down when shooting in bursts causes vibrations that render the second and subsequent shots soft. I can't honestly say that I've ever experienced that problem but then I rarely use bursts anyway. If you're photographing high speed action it can be useful but the rest of the time it just gives you loads of almost identical images to download and wade through later on. For a couple of years now I've been capturing 14 bit raw files instead of the default 12 bit, which has slowed my camera's burst rate from six frames per second to about two and a half. That's ample for me.

Anyway, put your slippers on, get yourself a drink and find a comfy chair, because it's time for...

Day 11, Saturday 13th August

It turns out that yesterday evening wasn't quite my last shift. There's a two hour gap between the night shift finishing at eight and the visitor centre staff arriving at ten, and Caroline has asked if I'd mind covering this for her. Mind? I'd be delighted. Equally delighted are Kath and Colin as they weren't sure what was happening and thought they might have been stuck until ten.

Both chicks are present but all is quiet. I keep an eye on the monitor and an ear on the microphone while I busy myself photographing the dark marbled carpet moth that I caught on the curtains in the chalet last night. I find a nice piece of pine bark to pose him on and he behaves beautifully, keeping perfectly still for multi-second exposures and focus-stacking sequences.



Shortly before ten, Caroline arrives and I can stand down. She thanks me for volunteering and asks if everything has been alright with my week. My only complaint is that it’s over too soon, but I’m still not rushing off as I’m planning to meet with some WAB members tomorrow before heading further north.

Walking back down to the car park, I stop briefly to photograph some more fungi. Another toothed species associated with mixed deciduous and coniferous woodland, the zoned tooth. There are a good number of specimens poking up through the heather and a small amount of gardening is required to get a clear shot that shows the teeth underneath the cap.



Having got my shots, I return to the chalet to shower and finish packing. Making sure everything is tidy and ready for the next volunteer, I think about what to do with the rest of the day. The weather is being kind today. There are a few clouds and the odd rain shower about but plenty of blue sky too, and I decide to revisit the Findhorn Valley, Farr Road and Loch Ruthven. This will give me another chance to look for golden eagles and also an opportunity to retake a few landscape shots in better light.

When I was here with Don two days ago, in the rain, there were streams cascading down the mountains in torrents to join the river below which was in spate. It’s much quieter today and the becks and rivulets are back to normal. They’re still photogenic though, and I play around with different exposures to either freeze or blur the water tumbling over the rocks. I also experiment with my polarising filter to eliminate reflections from the water’s surface. This works well when photographing the streams and waterfalls, but for wider views of the valley I prefer to see the blue sky reflected in the river.





My photography is gradually taking me uphill, where I start to discover various insects. This common hawker...



...can be photographed at the long end of my wide-angle zoom but for the others I'll need my macro lens. On the way back to the car to get it, I pass some fritillaries dancing round a gorse bush but when I return with my lens fitted there's no sign of them. There are some Scotch argus though sharing the scabious with dance flies.



The dance flies aren't feeding on the flowers as they are carnivores. They're lurking, waiting for prey, and I suspect the butterflies are just a bit too big for them.

I’m working my way back up the hillside again, switching between the wide angle lens for waterfall shots and the macro for insects and flowers, including a vivid green sawfly...



And the beautiful grass of Parnassus...



I didn't know what this was but Audrey identified it just from my description.

After about an hour of this I’m well over halfway to the top and decide to leave the stream and climb to the apex of the adjacent ridge to see what view I get from there.

It’s another, higher ridge.

And again.

And another one.

By now I’m determined not to be beaten and I eventually reach a plateau with a view of the Findhorn Valley below.



Unfortunately, some clouds have started to roll down the opposite mountains and the light is not what it was an hour ago but I do the best I can in the conditions and then make my way back to the car. Going downhill is less strenuous but it’s very steep and there are extensive patches of gorse that I really don’t want to fall into. I take it slowly and carefully.

[pressld2]

As the weather continues to close in I head back towards the Farr Road, but before I get there I stop for a mixture of swallows and martins (sand and house, unless my ID skills are failing me again) gathering on overhead electricity wires. No one’s told them what a cliché this is.



This is not what it looks like, it's a fight between a sand martin and a swallow...



It won’t be long before they’re on their way back to Africa. As I approach with my long lens I spot a meadow pipit in amongst them, clutching his passport and saying "Can I come too?"



Two days ago, Don and I drove the Farr road in both directions, a total of sixteen miles, without once seeing another vehicle. Today I’m constantly having to pull over or reverse back to a passing place to allow other vehicles to pass. It can’t just be because today’s Saturday? And then the penny drops: two days ago was the eleventh and today is the thirteenth. On reflection, I’m quite surprised that I haven’t heard any gunfire.

At the highest point on the road I pull in and climb, on foot, further up through the heather. From this vantage point I take another sequence of shots with a view to stitching them into a panorama when I get home.



I make a brief stop at Loch Farr as I’ve heard that this loch also had breeding Slavonian grebes this year but it’s devoid of birds today. I take a couple of scenic shots...



...and then push on to Loch Ruthven.

There are no birds in evidence here either so I content myself with photographing the fungi that I didn’t have time for on Thursday. Apart from the orange birch bolete there are four other species here, two of which I recognise as tawny funnel and tawny grisette but the other two I can’t name.





True to form, I'm only half right. My "tawny funnel" is in fact a Lactarius, the birch milkcap. And I'm astonished to find (with the help of the fungi forum experts) that one of my unidentifieds is also a tawny grisette. The final one remains unidentified. I got driven back by midges and neglected to get a shot of the gills.

After seven nights in a comfy bed in the chalet, it's back to sleeping in the car tonight. The Loch Mallachie car park is nice and quiet.

Dave P.

[operanut1972]

I'm surprised your not permemently horizontal! If you were in amongst the Heather in subdued clothing, your lucky you were mistaken for a Kentish Yeti and bagged as a trophy! I do believe I can hear the big boned lady starting her warm up routine! I'm going to have to read the threads you recommended earlier! You tell a good story sir.

[Hawk Roosting]

What a brilliant read! Thank you for taking the time to write up in such detail and share with us Dave. Stunning photos too, I love the squirrels!

[nursiebernard]

Originally Posted by Hawk Roosting

What a brilliant read! Thank you for taking the time to write up in such detail and share with us Dave. Stunning photos too, I love the squirrels!

Hear Hear

[pressld2]

You've all been very patient while I sorted out the next load of photos, especially lol geoff waiting for the slugs, but the waiting's over so here we go with...

Day 12, Sunday 14th August

A minor disaster with my blow-up mattress developing a slow leak turns out to be a blessing in disguise as I’m up this morning half an hour before my alarm goes off. And what a morning – the best one yet. Beautiful golden sunlight is filtering through the pine trees to bounce off the surface of any loch it can find, while there are just enough clouds in the sky to make things interesting. There's a mini WAB meet planned for nine but I’ve got plenty of time to do the circular walk from Loch Garten to Loch Mallachie.

Loch Garten has never looked as fabulous as it does this morning and I take several sequences of shots with a view to stitching them into panoramics:



As well as some more traditional shots...



Heading down towards Loch Mallachie, I’m distracted by a huge black slug. They grow ‘em big up here and this one is a good ten centimetres. I try to dislodge a bit of muck from his tail end but this makes him contract into a hump.



While I’m waiting for him to relax and stretch out again, I find another, much smaller slug. This one is slate grey with a black and white striped foot margin and a white sole. I’ve not seen one like this before and manage to get some shots without making him curl up. I’m sure he’s one of the Arions and is either A. ater agg. or A. Lusitanicus. Sometimes the only way to tell is via dissection and I’m not doing that. Either way, he’s just a youngster.



Loch Mallachie is also incredibly beautiful in the early light but the distraction with slugs means I’m running a bit late if I want to have a cup of coffee and still be back at the RSPB car park to meet the WAB members at nine. I grab a few shots before starting up the path back towards the car park.



A slight movement on the path ahead catches my eye and I see it’s a red deer fawn nibbling the vegetation. Typically, I never seem to have the right lens on when an unexpected opportunity arises and this is no exception as I still have my wide angle fitted from the landscape views of Loch Mallachie. I whack it out to the 85mm end and take some shots.



After my previous embarrassments I'm reluctant to try and identify it but I'm inclined towards roe again. Here's a close crop in case someone else wants to have a stab...



A short way further up the path I can hear geese honking and a squadron flies over the pines, heading towards Loch Garten.



Audrey (earthdragon64) and husband Bob are at the car park when I get there, watching the squirrels on the feeders. We’ve not met before and make our introductions. We give it until twenty past in case anyone else is coming – a few said they might make it – but it looks like it’s just us three. We start by heading up towards the visitor centre to see the toothed fungi. Audrey confirms that it really is devil’s tooth by tasting a piece. There is another species that is similar in appearance but devil’s tooth is extremely hot to the taste.



There are a couple of dragonfly species that I’m keen to see, namely the white-faced darter and the northern damselfly. It’s a bit late in the season for the first of these but we try out a couple of sites, both within half a mile of Loch Garten. At the first we draw a complete blank while at the second we don’t get our targets but we do manage black darter, common hawker and emerald damselfly as compensation. To get closer to the black dater I climb over the rail of the boardwalk and lean out while Bob hangs onto the belt on my trousers.



There are also common lizards here,



as well as bog asphodel, cotton grass and round-leaved sundew. If it wasn’t for the mountains I could be back at Thursley Common! A feeling reinforced even further when I find a raft spider, the smart white buttons on his coat gleaming in the sunlight.



I'm still after seeing a wild otter so our next stop is at a spot on the Spey where Audrey and Bob have seen an otter on previous occasions. But the water is still very high and very fast after all the recent rain, and there is no sign of the animal today.



We have better luck with the frog orchids as they don’t move around so much. With many orchids I can see where they get the name, but these look nothing like frogs.

[pressld2]

There is an extraordinary array of wildflowers at this site, just outside of Grantown-on-Spey, including a couple more that are new ones for me: fox and cubs and devil’s bit scabious, as well as more rosebay willowherb.



We find a couple of ground beetles engaged in "recreational activities",



but on the whole we're having more luck with the flowers than anything else today and we head for another site that might give us lesser twayblade and twin flower, although both may be past their best by now. I’ve seen twin-flower once before, in British Columbia, but never in the UK. And we’re in luck. There is a large patch of them still in flower, and while many are past their best, several are still in good shape.



Growing next to them is a cup fungus – one of the Peziza species but which one I can’t be sure without reference to my books.



And now that I've looked at my books, I still can't be sure.

We’re not so lucky with the lesser twayblades. There were only half a dozen of these anyway and they’re well and truly over by now.



These flowers are in a beautiful area of old Caledonian pine forest.



We catch a glimpse of a buzzard circling above the trees but before I can change lenses he's gone. No such problem with this rust on a birch sapling...



Audrey, I'm sure you told me it's name but I didn't note it down quick enough and now it's gone.

Our final location for the day is back on the banks of the Spey at a place where Audrey and Bob have seen dark green fritillaries, but as we’re walking out, it starts to rain. And we can see that the river bank has been recently strimmed and the adjacent fields cut for hay so it’s unlikely there’ll be any about today. We decide to call it a day as I need to get back to Aviemore before the shops shut to buy a replacement mattress. I've had a great day and am extremely grateful to Audrey and Bob for so generously giving up their time and sharing their local knowledge.

Until this trip, the furthest north I had ever been in the UK was Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness. I’ve already beaten that with my trip to Chanonry Point but now I’m going all the way – to John O’ Groats and Dunnet Head. With my new mattress safely stowed I set off and am soon through Inverness and following the east coast road. I want to arrive in time for the sunset so I make just two stops en route: one at I’m not sure where to photograph a beautiful double rainbow over farmland,



and the second at Wick for my dinner.

I make it – just. It’s approaching eight thirty and the sun is still a couple of degrees above the horizon as I pull up in the car park next to the visitor centre. I’d been warned that there isn’t much at John O’ Groats and with it being late on Sunday evening, what there is is closed. I head down to the small harbour and take a few shots of a boat moored there and of the waves breaking along the shore under the last rays of the day.



A few miles along the coast is Dunnet Head, the most northerly point on mainland UK. (Driving here from John O’ Groats I’ve passed several signs describing things as “Mainland Britain’s Most Northerly...”) As the road climbs upwards I can just make out “Mainland Britain’s Most Northerly Black-throated Diver” in the twilight on Long Loch, and I make a note to look for him again in the morning. The sun has set now and I waste no time in photographing the cliffs and the lighthouse in the gorgeous golden afterglow, with the Orkney Islands on the horizon as a back-drop.



It’s a beautiful evening with barely a breath of wind, although the ropes lashing the RSPB hut to iron cleats set in the concrete suggest it’s not always this calm. Returning to the car, I treat myself to a glass of wine before turning in, and sip it while watching the last of the daylight fade. Gradually the stars come out and a full moon rises behind me, bathing the cliffs with liquid silver. It's one of those truly magical, never-to-be-forgotten moments.

Thirty minutes later, and the mood is shattered by “Mainland Britain’s Most Northerly Snoring”.

Dave P.

[earthdragon64]

Cracking shots Dave, they bring back memories of a great day. The rust on the Birch isn't a rust, it's galls of the mite Eriophyes longisetosus. I'm pretty sure I didn't give you the name on the day as I have trouble remembering it.

Just like I couldn't remember the name of the black beetle with the brown face, which flew off just before you were going to photograph it, which was at the same place the Twinflower was. It is called Oieceoptoma thoracicum, which is much easier to copy and paste than it is to say!

Regards, Audrey.