my sweetheart, Neil on Toubkal

A few days ago I said (on the outdoors bloggers forum):

I’ve been absent from here, and my blog, for most of the summer. That was partly because I was working and living in the beautiful Cairngorms (oh, the hardship!) for 4 days a week with no ‘net access.

However, in the past week I’ve added a few posts to my blog – mainly about my recent trekking holiday in Morocco – and one of two from the past couple of weekends at Glenmore. Since I’ve now finished my seasonal job I’m going to have time to catch up with the blogs of those who I follow. I plan to write a few wee bits and pieces about days out in the Cairngorms from the summer.”

Well, the best laid plans o’ mice and men – and bloggers…

About one hour after writing the above I was sitting in the back of an ambulance accompanying my husband Neil to hospital. He had an accident and has broken his shin bones (both tibia and fibula) and smashed his kneecap. His poor old knee is now held together by 4 screws and he’s sporting a full-leg stookie.

Unfortunately his surgery wound is not healing as well as it should and he is still in hospital one week later. I’ve been running around on hospital visits and trying to make the house a wee bit more ‘hirpling-along-wi-a’-stookie’ proof for when he gets home. I know when he is home, I’ll be running around even more.

I’ve suggested he could be a ‘guest blogger’ for me and write up accounts of some of our hillwalking trips while he is recovering at home. At the moment he’s not too keen on that idea, but has said he’ll select some of his photos for me, if I wish to write the blurbs.

I will get a few more blog entries written … sometime…

One of the guided walks I lead at Glenmore passes this small area of bog woodland. I find many of the visitors are enchanted by it, just as I am each time I see it. Maybe it’s because it’s like a model in which we can feel like giants – as we did when visiting model villages when young! Or maybe it’s simply because it is such a surprise to find these trees literally metres away from the giant Scots Pines towering 100+feet above us (on the right in the above photograph). Many remark on how this is like giant bonsai.

The trees in these two pictures are approximately 2 – 4 meters tall.

Bog woodlands are areas of peaty ground on which the high water table and shortage of nutrients restrict tree growth. The unique character of this open habitat is defined by the scattered trees which are gnarled and stunted, with twisted branches. The principal tree species in this form of Bog woodland is Scots pine (Pinus sylvestris). Some of the Scots pines can be up to hundreds of years old, but deceptively small in size.

Scots pine Bog Woodland has developed here within the forest because the irregular glacial topography has led to marked variations in geomorphology and drainage pattern. The drier slopes and knolls support mature pine woodland and in the hollows between, wet mires with abundant bog woodland have developed.

The grasses found here include purple moor-grass (Molinia caerulea), cotton grasses (Eriophorum vaginatum and E. angustifolium), bottle sedge (Carex rostrata) and soft rush (Juncus effusus).

The most striking feature of bog woodlands, however, is the mosses, particularly species of Sphagnum, which cover the ground to form a thick, spongy, hummocky carpet making walking difficult. The commonest species are the green or yellow-green Sphagnum palustre, S. recurvum, S. squarrosum and S. fimbriatum and the often red-tinged S. capillifolium.

In the summer we often see tiny, wee Sundew (Drosera) growing among this moss. Sundews supplement the meagre nutrients found in the acid, wetland soils by absorbing minerals from insect prey.

Each Sundew leaf boasts a multitude of hair-like tendrils. Those at the margins are quite long, whilst those towards the centre are far shorter. All, though, are tipped by droplets that, just like dew, glisten in the sun, giving these plants their common name. On contact with these sticky hairs, insects quickly become trapped; the surrounding hairs bend towards the victim to prevent escape, and the whole leaf eventually curls over to enclose the unfortunate creature.

The dew drops also act as digestive juices that dissolve the softer parts of the insect’s body before the resultant liquid is absorbed by the plant – a gruesome fate, indeed.

Small insects are the most frequent Sundew victims, insects too tiny and without the muscle power to escape. At Loch Morlich, this is most often midges which are abundant is huge numbers.

Today as I was snapping this picture of a lovely specimen of Fly Agaric, I looked up and noticed a small group of reindeer passing on the road, 50m away. And no! I had not ingested any of the mushroom! The Cairngorm Reindeer Herd Centre is based along the road, and I think they may be training the reindeer ready for sledge-pulling duties in December when they are kept busy the whole month.

I thought this a funny coincidence as reindeer are heavily associated with Fly agaric mushroom.

Fly agaric is a poisonous mushroom related to Death Cap. It contains two toxins, ibotenic acid and muscimol, which are responsible for its psychoactive and hallucinogenic effects.

In Lapland and Siberia, the reindeer who live there are quite fond of this mushroom and will go to great lengths to find it. In fact they are so partial to a bit of tasty magic mushroom of the fly Agaric variety that they can be herded simply by throwing these mushrooms on the ground for them to find.

The mushroom’s potent effect on humans was discovered by accident thousands of years ago, when shepherds became intoxicated after consuming the meat of reindeer who ingested the fungus.

Soon after, the shepherds also discovered that drinking the urine of reindeer who ate the mushrooms not only caused hallucinations, but it went a long way too. Since the mushroom’s psychedelic ingredients are not metabolized by the body and remain psychoactively potent even after being ingested and excreted, the urine could be consumed and re-consumed up to six times before losing its effectiveness.

With both the Reindeer and the Shaman under the hallucinatory effects of the drug it genuinely appeared to the Shaman that the Reindeer could fly. When the first missionaries reached Lapland they heard stories of such reindeer flight and wove those tales into the folklore of Western cultures concerning Saint Nicholas.

This mushroom’s association with gnomes and fairies (as often seen in traditional children’s books) is also because of it’s hallucinatory effects.

Certain Siberian Shamans believed that for each mushroom consumed one gnome would manifest itself and, noting that these squat earth spirits race like the wind itself, would always consume two and a half Fly Agaric mushrooms to enter their trance – two to enable their minds to see the gnomes and the half to conjur a weaker “half-gnome.” On their race through the convoluted passage to the Faery Realm, the Shaman would often lose sight of the spritely gnomes and, unable to find the entrance to the Faery World unaided, would return to their material bodies with no gifts of arcane knowledge or sage council from the wise spirits. The conjuration of this third, less abled, gnome would hinder the progress of his comrades, thus allowing the Shaman to follow the gnomes through the labyrinthine route to the Nether World with no fear of losing their way.

Now, if I ever tell you about seeing Fly agaric and faeries, then you can worry about me!

Early morning mist lifts off Loch Morlich

Got a couple of weekends back at Glenmore and am enjoying sharing the seasonal changes with the public. When I arrived early last Friday morning I was just in time to see the last of the mist lifting off the loch.

The trees and bracken beside the burn are looking good.