BrewDog’s “Lost Forest” A Year On: Fencing Begins

The Burma Road

A year ago I wandered up the Burma Road in the Monadh Liath hills just outside Aviemore (see this post) to have a look at the Kinrara estate which BrewDog had recently bought with a view to restoring a “lost forest”. Nothing had happened then of course, the land looking much as it had for many years with lovely woodland lower down and a degraded grouse moor higher up. I did though notice some small pines and other trees poking up through the heather and commented that the forest would return on its own if deer numbers were reduced to stop overgrazing. 

The Burma Road

BrewDog however plan to plant over a million native trees in fenced areas and recently obtained planning permission for this plus a grant of over a million pounds from Scottish Forestry. BrewDog CEO James Watt defended the project in this post, with a letter from noted environmentalist Mike Berners-Lee backing him up.  However there is no mention of regeneration and Berner-Lees says that the aim is to create a “bio-diverse broadleaf woodland”. Given that there is relict Caledonian Pine forest here surely it is this that needs restoring, as Dave Morris pointed out in an excellent letter to the Herald newspaper quoted in this informative post by Nick Kempe on Parkswatch Scotland.  

A lone pine along the Burma Road. Seed source for the future?

As I climbed above the lower woodland I could see a digger high on the hillside and soon some massive fence posts running across the hillside. Piles of wire netting lay nearby. From an aesthetic point of view this fence will be an intrusion into an open landscape. I also wonder how many access points there will be – it will certainly be a barrier to wandering down anywhere from Geal Charn as I’ve done many times. 

The fence line marching across the hillside.

More significantly it will result in a forest one side and bare moorland the other, an unnatural straight line separating healthy and unhealthy ecosystems. I also wonder how the planting will be done. In an area close to my home planting involved digging with heavy machinery that destroyed many of the regenerating pines. 

Beside the Burma Road.

The views over Strathspey were dramatic with bands of cloud and rain sweeping across the land and bursts of sunshine lighting up different spots. Over there Wildland is allowing the forest to return naturally, making Glen Feshie an inspiring place, Now Wildland is extending this to the Glen Tromie and Gaick estates, supported by Forestry Scotland. It’s a shame Forestry Scotland didn’t advise BrewDog to do the same and that BrewDog didn’t ask Wildland for advice. 

Lairig Ghru from the Burma Road

Leaving aside the big important question of estate ownership, which is covered well on Andy Wightman’s blog, I’d rather see a planted forest on the Kinrara estate than have it continue as a grouse moor. Such a forest will be better for biodiversity. I’d rather see natural regeneration than planting though and whether that or planting I'd rather see a reduction in deer numbers than fencing.

I’ll be going back up the Burma Road to see how the work progresses and posting about this again.

The Cairngorms from the Burma Road

 Note: all photographs taken August 19, 2022

Magical Light on the First Hill of the Year

Heading for the summit

In a week of storms the sixth day of the new year looked to be the most likely to give reasonable weather, especially in the Monadh Liath hills to the north of the Cairngorms. So for my first hill of the year I went up the big rolling moorland dome of Geal-charn Mor to the west of Aviemore with three others.

View down An Gleannan to Strathspey

 

The Northern Cairngorms were shrouded in cloud as we began the climb up through the lovely birch and pine forest of An Gleannan. These higher hills were to remain that way all day but scene wasn’t of a dull grey blanket as the clouds swirled and twisted around their lower slopes with flashes of sunshine breaking through at times to give wonderful, constantly changing, magical light. Above us a dark cloud hung but it stayed above the summit and to either side the sky was much brighter.

On the descent

 

Once we left the trees a cold wind began to bite and soon we were walking on frozen ground and a thin covering of snow. Frost feathers decorated the dead grass. On the summit the wind was strong and bitter so after a hasty snack and a compass bearing we set off down featureless slopes before picking up a path that led to the warmer, greener land below. The brightness had left the sky and the first rain was falling just as we reached the car. A fine first hill day of the year was over.

Wild Land Saved! Allt Duine Wind Farm Rejected.

A rainbow over the Allt Duine area

The long-running Allt Duine wind farm saga is finally over. Today the Scottish Government rejected this proposal for a huge wind farm in the Monadh Liath mountains on the edge of the Cairngorms National Park. This is a great victory for wild land and, along with other recent refusals of wind farms in wild land areas, hopefully presents a turning point for wild land protection.

The story began in 2011 when the wind farm was first proposed. Highland Council rejected it which triggered a public inquiry in October 2012, in which I took part for the Save the Monadliath Mountains campaign. Since then there has been silence until now. However the launch of the Wild Land Map and new planning regulations a year ago gave hope that the wind farm would be rejected as the area was clearly one that should be covered by these.

Many people and organisations have campaigned against this wind farm - the John Muir Trust, Mountaineering Council of Scotland, Cairngorms National Park amongst them. Today we can all celebrate. I feel elated, relieved and stunned - the latter because it seemed as though a decision would never come.

Camp above the Allt Duine

In rejecting the wind farm John Swinney, Deputy First Minister, said  “I have considered the Allt Duine application fully and have refused permission as the proposal would have a significant and unacceptable landscape and visual impacts in the local area, including on the Cairngorms National Park and on a wild land area.”

In response John Muir Trust Chief Executive Stuart Brooks says: "The battle to save this precious area of wild land has been long and hard. We are delighted that the Deputy First Minister John Swinney has come down on  the side of the people and the landscape against the energy giant RWE.

"We are  especially heartened by the Scottish Government's growing recognition of the importance of landscape, which is in tune with the views of the big majority of the population of Scotland and of the Highlands as revealed in two major opinion surveys.

"We also welcome the Minister's  acknowledgement that Allt Duine would have adversely affected the Monadhliath Wild Land Area [WLA 20]."

 

The Allt Duine hills

For the Mountaineering Council of Scotland Chief Officer David Gibson says " Like many other organisations and individuals we worked hard to seek refusal of consent for this development. We hope this is evidence of a firm and consistent commitment by the Scottish Government to the protection of wild land and Scotland’s mountains from similar massive industrial scale developments. That would demonstrate that it understands the value of wild land and the need to protect its special qualities for the benefit of all."

Both the JMT and the MCofS call for a clear commitment to wild land by the Scottish Government and for the rejection of the proposed Glencassley and Sallachy wind farms.

Today is a day for celebration.

An 'Easy' Day On Carn An Fhreiceadain

Carn an Fhreiceadain

Away to the south and west thick rolls of cloud covered the hills, clouds that were forecast to reach the Cairngorms and the Monadh Liath hills before the end of the day. Starting late I went for what I thought would be a straightforward walk up Carn an Fhreiceadain above Kingussie, a hill that can be climbed on bulldozed tracks. Whilst unprepossessing in itself Carn an Fhreiceadain –the cairn of the watcher – is a splendid viewpoint for the Cairngorms and the vast rolling expanse of the Monadh Liath. It lies on the western edge of the Allt Duine area, site of a proposed wind farm (about which more in a forthcoming post).

The Cairngorms

 

Sometimes finding a way out of a town and into the hills can be the hardest navigation of the day. Kingussie has a good path network and the track up Carn an Fhreiceadain isn’t hard to find so I wasn’t expecting problems and on the ascent there were none, though I did notice a closed bridge, path relocations and some new hydro construction. Climbing through lovely old birch woods to frozen Loch Gynack I had wonderful views across Strathspey to the Cairngorms shining white in bright sunshine though the views west along the loch showed dark overcast skies. Those clouds to the south-west were coming closer though and soon the first of them swept high overhead, casting the land into shadow.

Loch Gynack

 

Once above the trees there was soon enough snow left for me to use my snowshoes. Some of the drifts were deep enough that walking would have been slow and arduous as the snow was soft. Even with the snowshoes progress was quite hard work. I couldn’t use the snowshoes all the time however. I was climbing up long open slopes towards the subsidiary top of Beinn Bhreac and wherever the angle turned the track towards the sun, which was frequently, the snow had gone. The snowshoes came off and went on again many times, slowing me down. The mist was just touching Beinn Bhreac as I approached the summit. Away to the north-east I could see the rapidly fading Allt Duine hills. Mountain hares raced across the snowfields, pausing occasionally to glance in my direction, and grouse flew low over the ground, chattering quietly. Otherwise all was quiet and still. 

Mountain hares

 

From Beinn Bhreac to Carn an Fhreiceadain the mist was thick. If the snow cover had been complete I’d have been in a white-out. As it was I could always see rocks or heather in the distance though the snow in front of me appeared completely featureless. A few times I stumbled when the ground rose or fell unexpectedly. Again my progress was slow.

The clouds rolling in

Eventually the summit trig point loomed up, banked by snow but otherwise surrounded by a bare stony plateau. The wind was cold and the time late with sunset not far away. I didn’t linger but was soon descending the track that runs down the Allt Mor glen. Sheltered from the sun the snow here was deeper and unbroken and I was finally able to make good progress on my snowshoes. In places the snow was banked at steep angles across the track and I edged across cautiously, wondering about avalanches. Coming out of the dense cloud I could see tendrils of mist writhing across the glen below me and seeping into the dark trees.

Descending out of the cloud

 

By the time I reached the forest it was dark and under the canopy I needed my headlamp. The track was still snowy and I kept the snowshoes on. The mist drifting through the trees meant I couldn’t see far even with the headlamp as the beam bounced back off the thick air. I passed some big earth movers and various signs warning of the hydro work before reaching a cleared area with sheds and machinery. Beyond this the track reached some fancy gates and a private sign. A building with lights on lay not far inside the gates. I’d seen no junctions but knowing I must have missed one I turned back. Casting round the cleared area I found a half-hidden signpost pointing down a now-muddy track through the trees. Off with the snowshoes and then careful walking as although cleared of snow there were icy patches on the track.

I could hear the rushing waters of the Allt Mor becoming louder and louder, my hearing sharpened in the darkness, then a wide bridge appeared with a blue rope strung across it. Snow covered it and I could see many footprints. I followed only to come to an abrupt stop on the edge of a dark void high above the water. The bridge was not complete. Whether new or damaged I couldn’t tell but what was clear was I couldn’t go on. Back over the blue rope I skittered down the steep loose bank to the river and boulder-hopped across, my feet getting slightly damp as some of the rocks were under six inches of water, to haul myself on to the snow above the steep farther bank. I hadn’t expected to be fording rivers in the dark, my snowshoes clutched under my arm.

The walk had now taken a somewhat unreal air. I’d lost track of the time and seemed to have been in the dark mist-wreathed woods for hours. I knew I couldn’t have far to go yet felt as though I was in a remote wilderness. Eventually a sign appeared pointing back down to the river and to Kingussie. This time the bridge was complete. Up the other side I found myself on the edge of the Kingussie golf course. Again I cast around for a sign or a path. Nothing. Mist drifted over the links. I set off down the fairways, still feeling I was in the middle of nowhere. The golf course seemed to go on for ever. Eventually the club hut appeared and a road and soon my car, an hour and a half later than estimated. 

Thick mist, soft snow, broken bridges, confusing tracks – it had not been the easy day I’d been expecting. But it had been much more interesting.