I'm currently on holiday on the West Coast of Scotland. Where we are is idyllic.
Thus far, I have caught my first salmon on the fly. Three in fact. However I don't think they quite count.
That being said, there was something nice about an Englishman catching a Scottish 'salmon' using flies tied by a Welshman and given to me by another. The Scots and Welsh may disagree.
On the same day I also spotted a herd of red deer after dusk on the thermal and, whilst helping the local farmer clear sheep from the muir, put up four grouse. Probably the closest to a McNab I'll get. Especially as the sea eagles and ground predators such as pine martens are making it very hard for local ground nesters to survive, let alone breed.
A day later I brought home a lovely brownie for breakfast. Stunning creature I did feel a little bad eating her.
We then visited the local show, where I attempted a caber toss- apparently this was only half size. Got it off the ground but nowhere near flipping.
I think I'll need to work out for next year... Locals were lovely and really welcoming though and I didn't do too badly on the laser clays.
However, the real experience was tonight. Having watched the reds grazing across the glen most evenings this week, through my thermal, I decided to see how close I could get.
Setting off from the cottage having doused my legs (wearing shorts) and neck in some sort of oil, there were four hinds in the field a few hundred metres away. I tried to remain in the shadows but the light from the cottage behind me laid a long silhouette on the ground until I'd descended near the river. The final scramble down to it was interesting as the overcast night meant very little ambient light. I carefully crossed a barbed wire fence then warily eyed the river as it scurried over some shoals I'd seen the other day whilst hunting for a child's lost sandal. Gingerly starting crossing, I got to the point where the first trickle made it past my AKUs and I thought 'stuff it, in for a penny, in for a pound' and just got on with the crossing. Emerging on the far bank with shoes damper than I'd hoped but drier than I'd expected, I followed the stream a short way using the sound to mask my steps.
However, in this dip near the river I had a quandary as the gentle breeze which had been West to East appeared to be East to West. I hedged my bets and, orienting myself from the cottage, headed slightly West as I headed for the bank and my final approach. The deer were at the top of a ~5m bank, across a singletrack road and behind the sheep fence.
At this point I cursed as the foot of the bank where I approached was scree. Not quiet enough to ascend. I used the thermal to identify the edge where there was a narrow band of rocky grass before the bracken encroached on my access. I crept up the slope on all fours, turning the monocular on just before cresting the summit and inching forwards. As I did I realised I'd had the perfect approach - there was a hind less than 20m from me. This is conservative - in the morning I will check but I think it may have been as little as 10-12m.
Reaching the road level, the wind was back to being West to East. Fortunately she was just upwind of me but she did know something was up. We both froze, before she began casting around scenting the air, finally deciding it was safe to graze. That period of looking at each other was wonderful.
Then inching further forward, my eye glued to the monocular, the ears of two more hinds appeared through the haze and marran grass. It was at this point I realised the monocular was no longer recording. A quiet off-on didn't solve the problem so, like a caterpillar I inched back from tbe road, back down the slope a little and connected it to my phone so I could delete some of the older files.
IT admin completed, I crept back to where I had been and progressed across the road like a human slug. The hinds were still there but slightly further into the field. Three were lying down, one was eating still. I took some more video then decided I'd better get back before everyone went to bed and locked me out.
Slugging across the road, I descended the bank. With one slight hiccup. The bank was taller than I remembered and there was no light. So when I stood up thinking I was on the level, an extra couple of metres of rapid descent ensued, ending with a medium sized rock which sent me flying. Don't worry though, instincts kicked in and, as I tumbled towards destinations unknown, I thought 'save the thermal'. Fortunately both it and I survived unscathed.
At this point I was able to meander back towards tbe shoals, sacrifice the ideal of dry feet one more time, and cross the river. I did use my mag-lite for that bit this time. In darkness again, I found a fence post and gingerly crossed the barbed wire before ascending the slop and crossing the field to the cottage. Looking back I could see the four hinds roughly where I'd left them and thus undisturbed by my exploits. I reached the cottage to discover the door locked but some still awake so a tap on the window saved me from a night in the car.
Now if only it was hind season, night stalking wasn't illegal, I had the permission and a FAC!
Either way I'm pleased with the stalk. It was quite something to be so close to a wild red. Shame the boys weren't about too. Anyway, time for a cuppa then bed- kayaking tomorrow and my mackerel line is at the ready.
We've had some stunning weather this week. Here's a thermal view of the loch after dark when the wind had dropped. What a blessing to be here.
Thus far, I have caught my first salmon on the fly. Three in fact. However I don't think they quite count.
That being said, there was something nice about an Englishman catching a Scottish 'salmon' using flies tied by a Welshman and given to me by another. The Scots and Welsh may disagree.
On the same day I also spotted a herd of red deer after dusk on the thermal and, whilst helping the local farmer clear sheep from the muir, put up four grouse. Probably the closest to a McNab I'll get. Especially as the sea eagles and ground predators such as pine martens are making it very hard for local ground nesters to survive, let alone breed.
A day later I brought home a lovely brownie for breakfast. Stunning creature I did feel a little bad eating her.
We then visited the local show, where I attempted a caber toss- apparently this was only half size. Got it off the ground but nowhere near flipping.
I think I'll need to work out for next year... Locals were lovely and really welcoming though and I didn't do too badly on the laser clays.
However, the real experience was tonight. Having watched the reds grazing across the glen most evenings this week, through my thermal, I decided to see how close I could get.
Setting off from the cottage having doused my legs (wearing shorts) and neck in some sort of oil, there were four hinds in the field a few hundred metres away. I tried to remain in the shadows but the light from the cottage behind me laid a long silhouette on the ground until I'd descended near the river. The final scramble down to it was interesting as the overcast night meant very little ambient light. I carefully crossed a barbed wire fence then warily eyed the river as it scurried over some shoals I'd seen the other day whilst hunting for a child's lost sandal. Gingerly starting crossing, I got to the point where the first trickle made it past my AKUs and I thought 'stuff it, in for a penny, in for a pound' and just got on with the crossing. Emerging on the far bank with shoes damper than I'd hoped but drier than I'd expected, I followed the stream a short way using the sound to mask my steps.
However, in this dip near the river I had a quandary as the gentle breeze which had been West to East appeared to be East to West. I hedged my bets and, orienting myself from the cottage, headed slightly West as I headed for the bank and my final approach. The deer were at the top of a ~5m bank, across a singletrack road and behind the sheep fence.
At this point I cursed as the foot of the bank where I approached was scree. Not quiet enough to ascend. I used the thermal to identify the edge where there was a narrow band of rocky grass before the bracken encroached on my access. I crept up the slope on all fours, turning the monocular on just before cresting the summit and inching forwards. As I did I realised I'd had the perfect approach - there was a hind less than 20m from me. This is conservative - in the morning I will check but I think it may have been as little as 10-12m.
Reaching the road level, the wind was back to being West to East. Fortunately she was just upwind of me but she did know something was up. We both froze, before she began casting around scenting the air, finally deciding it was safe to graze. That period of looking at each other was wonderful.
Then inching further forward, my eye glued to the monocular, the ears of two more hinds appeared through the haze and marran grass. It was at this point I realised the monocular was no longer recording. A quiet off-on didn't solve the problem so, like a caterpillar I inched back from tbe road, back down the slope a little and connected it to my phone so I could delete some of the older files.
IT admin completed, I crept back to where I had been and progressed across the road like a human slug. The hinds were still there but slightly further into the field. Three were lying down, one was eating still. I took some more video then decided I'd better get back before everyone went to bed and locked me out.
Slugging across the road, I descended the bank. With one slight hiccup. The bank was taller than I remembered and there was no light. So when I stood up thinking I was on the level, an extra couple of metres of rapid descent ensued, ending with a medium sized rock which sent me flying. Don't worry though, instincts kicked in and, as I tumbled towards destinations unknown, I thought 'save the thermal'. Fortunately both it and I survived unscathed.
At this point I was able to meander back towards tbe shoals, sacrifice the ideal of dry feet one more time, and cross the river. I did use my mag-lite for that bit this time. In darkness again, I found a fence post and gingerly crossed the barbed wire before ascending the slop and crossing the field to the cottage. Looking back I could see the four hinds roughly where I'd left them and thus undisturbed by my exploits. I reached the cottage to discover the door locked but some still awake so a tap on the window saved me from a night in the car.
Now if only it was hind season, night stalking wasn't illegal, I had the permission and a FAC!
Either way I'm pleased with the stalk. It was quite something to be so close to a wild red. Shame the boys weren't about too. Anyway, time for a cuppa then bed- kayaking tomorrow and my mackerel line is at the ready.
We've had some stunning weather this week. Here's a thermal view of the loch after dark when the wind had dropped. What a blessing to be here.
