Renewable Energy

My renewable energy roof

In recent days there has been a deluge of reports and counter briefings on renewable energy. Proposals for wind turbines in the Monadhliaiths, west of the Cairngorms and turbines off the Angus coast would double Scotland's capacity of wind power. In addition, the government are inching towards the next generation of nuclear reactors. These announcements have brought out opposition groups who seem to believe that electricity can be generated by some process which requires none of the above options nor, indeed, any upgrading of the transmission lines that feed electricity into the customers.

Scotland is already generating 35% of its electricity through renewable sources. The huge post-war hydro schemes were a substantial part of this and wind turbines and solar have made up most of the rapid increase over the last decade.  There are also an increasing number of micro-hydroelectric schemes that I have discovered during walks in remoter glens. The great potential of wave and tide power has yet to be harnessed on a commercial basis and current estimates are that it will be 2020 before this is possible.

I remain open-minded on the environmental impact of wind farms having seen the devastation of landscapes in the United States. We must protect our sensitive areas but there are many unpopulated areas of unproductive land and no intrinsic landscape quality that might be enhanced by some brutally functional renewable engineering totems. Just as steam locomotives, bridges, viaducts and reservoirs captured our imaginations in the past.

I remember as a student in Liverpool walking the bleak seafront at Bootle and Crosby prior to the Burbo Bank offshore wind farm. This has been transformed by the wind turbines as well as Andrew Gormley's statues of bathers. Crosby is now an award-winning beach with distinctive features adding interest to the bleak vista across the Liverpool Bay.  The proposals for wind turbines in the Forth estuary, east of  Angus, the central belt of Shetland and the Monadhliaths, an empty wilderness seldom visited by anyone, would add interest to these land and seascapes. In the way that the existing Burra Dale turbines in Shetland give a sense of pride compared to the incongruous industrial oil-fired generating plant a couple of miles down the road in Lerwick. Conversely, I was delighted when the proposals for a massive wind farm on the flat peatland moors of Lewis were turned down in 2008, this landscape is far too sensitive.

Ten years or so ago I was involved in identifying locations for new wind farms and negotiating with energy companies. One of my main concerns, apart from protecting the outstanding landscape areas, was to encourage community involvement in the planning and ownership of wind farms and ensure a funding stream for the benefit of the local community. Landowners have benefited hugely from the rentals for wind farms and capturing some of these income streams for the local communities is vital to prevent the exploitation of customers that is endemic in the private provision of existing energy sources.

Competition has rewarded the companies significantly at the expense of consumers who are forced to 'go compare' the devious tariff games played by the big six providers. I don't want to change my energy provider in the same way I don't want to spend hours trying to finesse my way through rail ticket scams or bank savings rates. I want honest and realistic pricing from companies that I can trust. Some ownership by the consumer usually goes some way to achieving this, which is why nationalisation is no longer the bogey it was painted in the Thatcher years.

At the more mundane local level, the most frequent question from my neighbours is how much electricity am I generating from my solar panels. The first year is just complete and the 16 solar panels have managed just short of 3000kWh during a largely sunless year. This meets about 75% of our needs over the year although we export most of the electricity generated in summer and are dependent on other sources at night and in winter. My estimate is that with the feed-in tariff it will take 7 or 8 years to cover the capital cost but the sense that we are doing a little to reduce the need for carbon-based electricity is perhaps the most important feel-good factor about the installation.

Another beach, Crosby -  Burbo Bank turbines

Burra Dale windfarm, Shetland

Monadhliath plateau

Women's Timber Corps

Women's Timber Corps bronze statue

I have been mesmerised over the past week with the splendour of the autumn colours this year. The same thoughts were echoed in a feature on the news this morning.  It prompted a morning walk round some of the local forests and the results were spectacular. The colours on display were pure genius: copper, mustard, vermilion and fading greens all set against a cloudless autumn sky.

Rowan

Larch and Spruce

Bare Birch 

Oak - the Duracell leaf

The native oak and birch woods were surrounded by the planting of conifers in the inter war period. In 1942 the Women's Timber Corps was re-established and made a huge contribution to the management and exploitation of the forest resources. The 'lumberjills' were trained in a fortnight to wield axes, operate sawmills, drive the tractors, haul logs with horses and transport the timber by truck to the railways. It would take at least that long to do the health and safety training alone nowadays. They were then billeted in the main timber producing areas of Scotland where they felled trees and made pit props, telegraph poles, ship's masts, railway sleepers, timber for road blocks and wooden crosses for war graves.

The Corps was disbanded in 1946 and they were finally recognised in 2007 by the commissioning of a bronze statue which was erected by the David Marshall lodge. The bronze was in harmony with the autumn colours and provided a powerful Boadicea like image in morning sun. It prompted the thought that had the Women's Timber Corps been responsible for planting they might have tailored the conifers into the landscape far better than the men of the Forestry Commission, who seemed unable to think outside straight lines and blocks when planting the undulating hillsides with platoons of conifers.

At least that phase is over and Forestry Enterprise are making great progress in replanting some of the native species as the conifers are harvested across the vast Queen Elizabeth forest park. I am just hoping that the replanting will not need to extend to the shapely ash trees that are found randomly around the edge of the forests and at the end of the garden.

Grey Corries

Grey Corries from Beinn na Socaich

Monday, 15 October 2012

Ascent:     1735 metres

Distance:  25 kilometres

Time:       7 hours 2 minutes

t    Stob Coire na Gaibhre         958m    1hr  42mins

m  Stob Choire Claurigh          1177m    2hrs 31mins

t    Stob a' Choire Leith           1105m    

t    Stob Coire Cath na Sine     1079m     2hrs 59mins

t    Caisteil                               1106m    3hrs  13mins

m  Stob Coire an Laogh           1116m    3hrs  34mins

m  Sgurr Choinnich Mor          1094m    4hrs  26mins

t    Stob Coire Easain               1080m    5hrs  1min

t   Beinn na Socaich                1007m    5hrs 16 mins

Wee Minister asks Keith the way

Flying Chameleons

Towards Stob Choire Claurigh

Grey Ridges from Stob Choire Claurigh

Looking east towards Easains

Looking west to Aonach Mor from Caisteil

Looking east to Stob Choire Claurigh

Allt Coire Rath

Sgurr Choinnich Mor and Mamores behind

Looking back towards Grey Corrie ridge from Stob Coire Easain

Northern Edge of Grey Corries

View north from Beinn na Socaich

I seem to finally have got into the habit of scanning for the good weather windows and picking good days to go walking. Today was to be sunny periods after an early frost and would be followed by another few days of unsettled weather. Keith came up the night before so we could make an early start, he was keen to climb the Grey Corries as he approaches the end of his fifth round of munros and fourth round of tops. He had introduced me to long days in the hills 22 years ago when we were training to compete in mountain marathons. He is one of the most accomplished experienced walkers in Scotland and still competing in mountain marathons at 60, I gave up at 50. We were off by 7:30am, it was still below freezing and there was little traffic on the A82 but there was quite a bit of cloud cover as we travelled through Glencoe.

After Fort William we were diverted onto a single track road via Camisk and Brackletter to Spean Bridge, it was slow and not helped by another accident on this road. From Spean Bridge, we followed the minor road south of the river Spean to Corriechoille and then up the forest track to where we parked just before the Wee Minister wooden statue.  It was almost 11:00am before we started out, an hour later than we had hoped. The sun was bright as we ascended the track towards Lairig Leathach. We turned west at the end of the forest and ascended the steep boggy grass slopes which eventually lead to the first top of Stob Coire na Gaibhre. We put our heads down and got on with the climb as we had both done on thousands of occasions. There was little to see as low cloud had drifted across the hillside and we were subjected to a snow shower for part of the ascent. Our hopes of a blue sky over the Grey Corries were receding, it might be another of those long plods in the total grey of a Scottish day in the hills.

The first top was a flattish platform with a small cairn and we gave it a cursory pat as we passed by. Beyond this, the climb was less steep and over stony ground which made for quicker progress.  We circled some ptarmigan and I managed to get a few photos of grey birds in a grey sky against grey mountains. Ptarmigans are the monochromatic chameleons of Scottish mountains. Keith went out to climb the ancillary top of Stob Coire na Ceannain whilst I continued the scramble along the ridge to Stob Choire Claurigh. The clouds had begun to clear and suddenly vast impressive vistas opened up. There were still banks of cloud but the shafts of sunlight created an explosion of vivid scenes, which were far more in keeping with these hills than pure blue skies. I arrived at the summit and spent ten minutes admiring the views and taking photos and then had some lunch before Keith arrived. He was similarly enchanted by the change in the weather.

The long walk over the Grey Corries ridge is one of Scotland's finest walks and, for once, I was in no rush. In the northern corries below stags were bellowing and chasing groups of female deer, some ravens flew by, Ben Nevis remained hidden in cloud. Then the Mamores emerged from the cloud and joined the panorama as the light continued to improve. There was a fine sprinkling of snow as well as hoar frost; the ridge had taken on the hue of a ptarmigan. We kept walking across the three tops en route for the next Munro, Stob Coire an Laoigh, from where we looked across to our next objective the splendid Toblerone shaped Sgurr Choinnich Mor.

Keith went over the top of Stob Coire Easain and I dropped down the screes to the bealach and we arrived below the climb to Sgurr Choinnich Mor at the same time. He was going on over to the outlying top of Sgurr Choinnich Beag which I have already completed 4 times. I stopped for a drink and more photos before the climb and then enjoyed a quarter of an hour at the cairn. In the warm afternoon sunshine this gorgeous summit, surrounded by an array of fine peaks, must be as good as anywhere in Scotland. A coffee and rock cake made it seem like the best cafe ever. We knew we had plenty of time to complete the walk in the light and the next hour became a beautiful walk as the angled sun created long sharp shadows that provided a never-ending scene of stunning mountains.

After the rocky climb over mainly quartz blocks to the top of Stob Coire Easain, we rambled down to the final top of the day, Beinn na Socaich, and admired the grey corries from the north. There is an easy descent from here, long but with gentler slopes down the grass and then from 700 metres following vehicle tracks through ground that was skid inducing after recent rain and snow.  We found a gate into a newly planted forest and followed a muddy track down to the forest road. A lone collie was barking at a nearby quarry but was picked up by a farmer in a 4x4 as we approached it.  We just had the final 3 kilometres along the well-made track back to the car. It was after 6pm but we had time to change and have a drink before setting off back to Spean Bridge. The road had been cleared. A Spar lorry had overturned and set on fire and a bus had also crashed. After a stop for diesel at Fort William, it was an easy journey home on the A82 with a vegetarian lasagne awaiting us. It had been a simply stunning day in the Scottish hills.

                                

Beinn a' Chrulaiste

Beinn a' Chrulaiste

Tuesday 9 October, 2012
Ascent:
Distance:
Time:

c   Beinn a' Chrulaiste   857m   1hr 19mins

I had driven back from the earlier climb on Bidean nam Bian and it was 3:30pm by the time I had parked at the Kingshouse and changed shoes for the short outing. I took a long drink of water for what I thought would be a quick couple of hours climbing Beinn a' Chrulaiste. I had decided to go unhindered by any rucksack. The late afternoon was near perfect although the warmth of the sun was beginning to wane as I walked over the bridge and up the track from the Kingshouse. At the end, there is a gate to the right and immediately afterwards a faint boggy path heads northwards alongside the burn which has exposed some wonderful rock features in the Diorite. The path is very boggy and even my old but sound Goretex trainers struggled to keep out the water.

The guidebooks had said to go north for a mile or so and then head west up the ridge. The path was distinct and I assumed that it would eventually curve into the hill. Wrong again, it continued along the side of the Allt a'Bhalaich and eventually when I had walked at least a couple of miles and reached an altitude of 520 metres I had to assume that there was no path to Beinn a' Chrulaiste. I crossed the burn to head south-eastwards towards the summit. It was an unforgiving climb and the eastern slopes of the hill were in the shadow of the sun. It was a steep climb through boggy long grass with random pockets of moss and rock outcrops. I have done this sort of things hundreds of times so I had to find a pace and just keep going.  By 750 metres the convex slopes were becoming gentler, the views to the west had opened up, the late afternoon sun was warming and the sense of a nearby summit hastened my pace.

As a hill walk, this is a bit of a plod with no discernible paths. As a summit, it is magnificent with a panorama as good as any in the western highlands. The Blackwater reservoir was just below the summit to the north, beyond which all the Mamores and the Grey Corries were visible. To the east the shapely Schiehallion and to the south and west Glencoe was crinkling with familiar peaks. The great isosceles triangle of Buchaille Etive Mor dominates the view. I enjoyed an orange and loitered, this was an exquisite moment as the sun created a shadow-filled landscape of the western highlands. I tried to capture as much as I could on camera but the reality was so much better.

My descent was straight and direct to the Kingshouse. It was rough ground but I had decided against trying to find an easier route. I avoided most of the bogs of the ascent and arrived at the West Highland Way in decent time. Outside the Kingshouse some deer were grazing as the sun was dipping beyond the Glencoe peaks. I was away by 6pm and home by 7:30pm after two splendid walks in Glencoe and for the second time of the day, it was a near-empty A82.

Ben Nevis and Mamores

Glencoe

Looking north from summit

Kingshouse on descent

Buchaille Etive Mor

Kingshouse deer

Bidean nam Bian

Bidean nam Bian summit

Tuesday, 9 October 2012
Ascent:    1385 metres
Distance:  12 kilometres
Time:       4hours 53minutes

t   Stob Coire nan Lochan    1115m    1hr 57mins
m  Bidean nam Bian            1150m    2hrs 24mins
m  Stob Coire Sgreamhach  1072m    3hrs   4mins

A glorious October day and I thought it would be perfect for a visit to my favourite munro south of the Great Glen. The early morning frost had been sharp and, leaving at 8am, there was still a mist hanging in the glens. The drive up the A82 was spectacular, the summer traffic had gone and the peaks began to emerge as the sun burnt off the mist and any lingering clouds. I stopped a couple of times for photos;  the shots of Buchaille Etive Mor in its autumnal raiment were stunning but I could not capture the mystery and solitude of Rannoch Moor.

Buchaille Etive Mor - autumn morning

Summit Buttress, Stob Coire nan Lochan 

I parked at the large car park at the head of Glencoe as I had decided to take the path up Coire nan Lochan. On previous visits to Bidean, I had climbed Dinnertime Buttress twice, ascended by the Lost Valley and climbed the Beinn Fhada ridge from Lairig Eilde. An Austrian coach party were admiring the view and their guide, clearly frustrated at having another coach party to pander, came over and asked me about my intentions and how long it would take to complete the walk, I said 5 hours in the knowledge that it gave me a target. He drooled over the summit buttress on Stob Coire nan Lochan which was spotlit by the morning sun, he would have made a good companion for the day.

I bade farewell and dropped to the valley floor, crossed the bridge and began the ascent of the man-made steps which climbed steeply into Coire nan Lochan. I was passed by a hill runner descending at about 200 metres and figured out that he must have set out at 7:30am if he had been to the summit. The glen was in the sun and although it was below freezing, the still air made it perfect for walking with the odd boggy section frozen hard. I kept a good pace and at the large rock at 675 metres, where the paths split, I passed a large party and turned west to climb steeply towards the summit buttress.

I had not stopped on the ascent and I had time to veer to the left of the path to get a closer look at the buttress. I then headed for the col below Aonach Dubh from where I turned south to climb the ridge. The views to the north and west were spectacular and I decided to have some refreshments and try to capture the views of the distant Ben Nevis and the nearer Aonach Eagach ridge. A couple of walkers ahead were struggling on the steep rocky scree, the blocks were still frozen in the lee of the sun. I passed them and found a path for them to follow. There were just the last 150 metres of ascent to the splendid summit of Stob Coire nan Lochan; why is it not a Munro?

Aonach Eagach and Ben Nevis

Loch Linnhe

Beinn Beithir and Loch Linnhe from Bidean

After another break for photographs at the summit and absorbing the inspiring views, I dropped down to the bealach and climbed the 155 metres alongside church door buttress to Bidean.  Whilst it is a superb mountain, the summit is its least distinguishing characteristic; a modest cairn sits on a small rocky plateau. On this ascent, I thought of an old work colleague, Pat Gray, who had been killed in a tragic accident here. As he was descending he stepped aside to let a walker pass on her ascent, a rock gave way and he fell down the cliff. Pat had a zest for life, commitment to community development and a sense of fun that had made him a good colleague over many years. Pat would have been the perfect companion on a day like this. I reflected on his life, he had inspired many others and he would have encouraged them to climb Bidean undiminished by the tragedy.

I had some lunch before setting off at a more leisurely pace for the descent down the ridge to Bealach Dearg and then the 145-metre climb to the promoted Munro of Stob Coire Sgreamhach. It has less of a presence than Stob Coire nan Lochan but is a good viewpoint for Glen Etive and eastwards to the Buchailles. A lone photographer was busying himself and was clearly in no mood for any pleasantries.

I returned to the bealach where two young Polish women had just emerged from the steep red scree gulley. This was my descent route and there was some mountain graffiti near the top - the first I have seen on the Scottish hills, let it remain so. The descent was long and tedious with some icy sections, but mostly just loose, unstable wet scree.  Ahead was the hidden valley, an oasis of green between the rock bands on either side. A couple of novice walkers were on their way up in shorts and T-shirts with no map. They were inspired by what they saw and seemed fairly fit so I showed them the route they should take.  They charged on anxious to be down before dark which should have been well within their ability on such a benign day.

The walkout through the lost valley was a ramble until the mouth of the valley when there is a short climb, followed by a scramble through some rocks and a crossing the burn. Despite bouncing across some boulders, I was rewarded with wet feet for the first time all day. There is a steep descent to the footbridge which was closed for the erection of protective handrails. However, it was easily accessed by climbing the gate, a lot easier than some of the other scrambling today. Ahead in Glencoe the white cottage, previously owned by Jimmy Savile, was glinting in the afternoon sun, it angered me that a celebrity miscreant had encroached on this glorious glen, at least Campbell is no longer the most unpopular name in the glen. I was down at the car park before 3pm. where I had some food and water before setting out for the Kingshouse with the intention of adding a Corbett to complete the day.

The Lost Valley from Bealach Dearg

Bidian nam Bian and Stob a' Coire Lochan from Stob Coire Sgreamhach

Lost Valley

Mome Rath Face above Lost Valley

Mouth of Lost Valley

Lime Craig

Ben Lomond from the golf course

Ben Lomond and Creag Mhor

Queen Elizabeth Forest and Ben Venue

Cruach Ardrain, Stobbinnein and Ben More

Ben Ledi

Campsies

Summit colour

Lime Craig is an undistinguished looking hill that sits above Aberfoyle. It hosts a former limestone quarry that was used for local iron making using charcoal from the indigenous oak forests that are now largely replaced by coniferous plantations. Until eight or nine years ago it was topped by a brick shed that housed the Police radio transmitter, a system that had been installed at considerable expense in the days before mobile phones. The base remains and provides a superb platform to admire a panorama of central Scotland. Today I could see the hills of Arran to the south, Ben Lomond and the Arrochar Alps to the west, the Ben More/Stobbinnein hills and then across to Ben Ledi. To the south and east the long plateau of the Campsies looked a bit weary and all around was the massive afforestation that engulfed the Trossachs in the immediate pre war years.

There are three main routes to the summit, a direct steep path that goes straight up from Dounans camp, a meandering route from the David Marshall Lodge that passes through the Go Ape site and a longer route which goes from Dounans camp along the top of the golf course to Braeval and then follows a track to the summit. The latter is my normal route as it was today. It is a regular haunt and I have run  the hill over 175 times since 1988 and walked it almost as often. Today there was one local at the top and three elderly ladies with two dogs on the ascent. I must donate a seat for the summit so that others can enjoy the panoramic vistas as much as I have.

I 

Beinn an Lochain and Binnein an Fhidhleir

Beinn an Lochain from Butterbridge

Slopes of Beinn Luibhean

Beinn an Lochain, the final climb

Beinn an Lochain summit

Stob Coire Creagach summit

Beinn Ime (in the cloud), The Cobbler and Beinn Luibhean

Beinn an Lochain above Loch Restil

Friday, 5 October 2012

c  Beinn an Lochain          902 metres      1hr 17mins

Ascent:                              710 metres
Distance:                               5 kilometres
Time:                                 2hrs  14mins

I had intended to go for a run this morning but the overnight showers had dispersed and there was a rare clarity in the air with a pure blue sky. I changed my plans and decided to drive to Glen Kinglas to visit two Corbetts, climbs that were long overdue. All the way to Arrochar the skies were cloudless, but on driving up the Rest and Be Thankful the first cloud of the day perched itself on Beinn an Lochain like a giant cushion. My optimism told me that it would soon be burnt off although it was 11:30am when I started the walk.  Crossing the burn at Easan Dubh was not easy but I was wearing an old pair of goretex trail shoes and, despite bouncing across a number of boulders below the surface of the burn, I landed with dry feet. A minute later my feet were soaking as I was treading water through the bog that takes you to the start of the rock staircase.

Across the glen, a helicopter and a large squad of construction workers were erecting safety nets to prevent further rock falls on the A83. The cloud level was down to 650 metres and it was galling to see that the Cobbler, despite being the same altitude, was free of cloud. The path is very distinct with sections of grippy schist rock alternating with short boggy sections. It levels at about 620 metres before the final two steep sections.

The summit is a slightly disappointing grassy knoll after all the splendid schist on the ascent. I walked over to the nearby top in the mist which was 5 metres lower on my altimeter. There was a cool breeze from the southwest so a quick drink and then gloves on for the descent. Although there were a lot of steep rocky sections on the descent, the footing was good. The cloud level had dropped and it began to rain. I briefly considered calling it a day but as I reached the road, the top of Binnein an Fhidhleir emerged from the cloud for the first time all day. I changed my shoes and set out for the second outing immediately.

c   Binnein an Fhidhleir     817 metres      2hrs 12mins

Ascent:                              650 metres 

Distance:                               4 kilometres

Time:                                1hr 27mins

The advice on the walk highlands website had said to take the track up Glen Kinglas and then turn left through a gate and onto a path through the plantation. The main gate was locked with a notice saying that stalking was taking place in Glen Kinglas. So I used the walker's gate which was open and rejoined the track after about 40 metres. I began walking up the track looking in vain for the gate and path. After about a kilometre, my patience ran out and I climbed the deer fence and began a diabolical ascent through clumps of long grass, each step landing on either the root structure of the grass clumps, which were like islands on a sea of bog or in the bog itself. This continued for twenty minutes by which time I had climbed only 140 metres but I eventually reached and climbed over the high fence enclosing the plantation.

I made a rising traverse to the west hoping to find a path but eventually gave up and just headed upwards following the line of a swollen burn.  By 550 metres I emerged on a flat ledge with a ramp to the east around the rock bands that encircled the summit of Stob Coire Creagach, the highest point of Binnein an Fhidhleir. A group of deer were grazing above me and they scattered to the other side of the long ridge. At last, the going was easy over short grass, some scree and, although steep, progress was far quicker.

The cloud which had hidden the ridge during the ascent had drifted away and, as I arrived at the summit, I had the best views of the day. Even Beinn an Lochain had nearly emerged from the cloud although Beinn Ime remained aloof from the panorama of peaks. I sat for a few minutes for an orange and a drink before a relatively quick descent. I headed straight for Butterbridge and at 300 metres found a high stile over the deer fence. It led down a boggy path and arrived by the gate up Glen Kinglas. I had missed it on the ascent by using the walker's gate instead of the locked main gate. The gate leading to the hill I should have gone through was hidden behind a parked Land Rover. It was a relief to be down. Despite the fine views this is not a hill I will be racing to repeat. The ascent probably ranks alongside climbing the south flank of Beinn Fada in 1989 as one of the most soul-destroying in Scotland and that is based on a pretty big sample of climbs.