The Courier & Advertiser (Perth and Perthshire Edition)
THE GINGER
Storm Arwen took its toll on Brian’s beloved trees but there is beauty to be found – even in winter
Our gardens took a battering from Storm Arwen. It was the first storm of this winter season, let’s hope it’s the last and not a taste of things to come. It’s certainly the worst storm I can remember for a long time. I just hate strong winds, I’ve a couple of reasons for this. A main part of my day job involves looking after a large collection of trees and I don’t want to see any harm come to them.
I also live amongst these trees and the noise the wind makes blowing through them is constant, like a high speed train when it goes blasting past you – but it’s never-ending. I find it very unnerving.
Of course the value of life and property comes first in these situations and thankfully my family and I were all OK.
After the winds had settled I was eager to get out and survey the damage, where I found we had lost 10 big trees in the grounds of Scone Palace.
I like to think we provide a good level of care for our trees, but no matter how many safety checks or how much pruning and crown reduction we do, with sustained wind speeds of more than 60mph we are just at the mercy of Mother Nature.
What didn’t help with this storm was the direction of the wind.
Our prevailing wind generally comes from is the south-west, so trees naturally develop a root structure to cope with this.
The weather system that brought us Storm Arwen saw winds coming down from the north which combined with the unusual strength was just too much for many of them.
Although a couple of trees that came down were in the heart of the palace grounds, the majority of the casualties were on the north face, one corner in particular where we have lost six.
It is such a sad sight to see large oak trees, more than 200 years old, toppled over like dominoes.
Yes, this corner is an exposed site, but the disappointing thing is the practices carried out in the past.
Many trailer loads of soil dumped were at the base of these trees and it has contributed to their demise.
The important roots of the tree, that help to feed and support it, are found in the top couple of feet of soil, under the surface.
By adding extra soil on top, the depth of the roots has increased so they can’t function properly. Ultimately, less water has got down to the roots and they have been slowly starved of oxygen. The roots have been slowly rotting away.
This was clear when I saw the exposed roots on the end of the trunk. They resembled a cotton bud on a stick, there was no large plate whatsoever to help support the tree.
I find it so frustrating seeing marquees and cars parked under trees at large events around the country.
Even more so when they have ignored signs asking you not to park under them. It’s so important for a tree’s good health that we protect the area under the canopy.
I recently attended a talk on trees by Tony Kirkham, probably the UK’s authority on the subject right now, due to his experience working with trees all his life.
He presented a brilliant analogy, which I thought was perfect for us Scots to help make sense of this.
Next time you’re having a glass of wine, take a good look at the glass and how it’s been designed.
It clearly follows the principles of a tree, with the cup being the tree crown, the glass neck being the trunk and the base being like the roots needed to keep it upright.
On the glass the base goes out as wide as the cup (well it does on the size of wine glass I drink from!).
Any damage to the base would see the wine glass lose its balance and fall over, spilling out all that lovely wine.
I do hope you are not offended – nobody ever likes to hear about the loss of good wine no matter what the reason – but too often we take our trees for granted at a time when we need them more than ever.
After the worst storm in years had abated, 24 hours later I opened the curtains to see snow lying on the ground and beautiful clear blue skies.
Surely this kind of thing can only happen in Scotland.
Instead of surveying devastation, my Sunday morning stroll saw me taking in the garden at its winter best.
Evergreen topiary from the box-ball standards give it some structure.
The mahogany, peeling bark of the Tibetan Cherry tree was shining in the sun while the frosted seed heads of Miscanthus grasses and perennials such as joe-pye weed and Agapanthus stood out, bringing a different kind of interest to the garden.
It was just the morning-after tonic I needed.
The Glittering Skellies are the granite slabs on the slopes above Bachnagairn and on a sunny day after the rain storms have passed, it’s easy to see why they got the name, their reflective sheen turning the hillside into a hall of mirrors.
There wasn’t much glitter on my latest visit, but the circuit which links two beautiful glens is always a pleasure. It does cross some high, exposed terrain, and a careful assessment of the weather conditions is vital, especially during the winter months.
My arrival in Glen Doll was greeted by a mini-blizzard, a shock to the system after the benign sunrise skies which had accompanied me most of the way. Even the normal chaffinch flurry was missing, the birds deciding to sit this one out for a bit. I decided to do the same and delay the start of the walk.
Ten minutes later, the snow had switched off and I set off on the woodland path alongside the lively waters of the South Esk, then crossed the bridge into the pines and out on to the track.
The trees were sighing heavily and the clouds speeding across the sky but there was a clarity in the early winter air which seemed to sharpen every contour, and the constant juxtaposition of light and shadow on the surrounding slopes was a joyful performance of natural theatre.
The bridge beyond Moulzie is a replacement for one swept away a few years ago, and the power of the flow here was re-emphasised by the erosion, big chunks of the bank had collapsed into the water. The path is slowly being eaten away.
The track that climbs steadily westwards has seen its formerly bouldery surface smoothed over, making for an easier passage up to the edge of the trees at Bachnagairn where a stepped path takes over for the short, snaking rise through the wood.
There was a wonderful silence in this sanctuary, my footsteps cushioned by a russet layer of pine needles, the whistling wind kept at bay.
I managed to avoid the automatic pilot turn to the Tait Bridge – the way up to Broad Cairn – and kept heading straight up to the end of the treeline. The snow swept in again as I exited this sheltered area rendering the high tops invisible, but the path was easy to pick out as it turned over rockier terrain on a steady incline with the occasional crunch of ice underfoot.
A glance in the rear view mirror revealed denuded trees and autumn colours, while ahead the grey was closing in. My line was through the middle: the only place the snow appeared to be lying was on the path, a helpful guide as it cut across the plateau. Along the way, the odd marker post was there for reassurance.
I passed through a series of pools coated in ice and snow and the gloomy grey puddle of Loch Esk away to the right, then dipped over the edge of Cairn Lunkard, its cairn a piled rocky pimple standing out on the skyline.
A cairn marked the union of the path with that of Jock’s Road, and a left turn led down past the memorial plaque to the lost souls of the tragedy of 1959 when five members of a Glasgow hiking club perished during a New Year crossing from Braemar.
Nearby is the rough shelter of Davy’s Bourach, recently repaired and restored by volunteers from the Forfar club, a refuge which has come to the aid of a few strugglers over the years.
The path dropped fast, down the side of a waterfall, then along the side of Craig Damff, before dipping into Glendoll Forest where the moss seems to have perfected its creeping colonisation of every boulder, every fallen tree. Eventually it emerged to link with the track for the final short leg past the lodge and Acharn Farm back to the car park.
ROUTE
1
Head north from car park past picnic benches and take woodland path alongside river until reaching bridge on right.
2
Cross bridge and follow path through trees and when it meets track, turn left.
3
Skirt buildings at Moulzie on right and when track turns to path, follow alongside river to cross bridge.
4
Stay on track as it turns west and climbs to Bachnagairn, ignoring turn on right down to Tait bridge and continuing to top of treeline.
5
Path now turns south-west over undulating open ground for 2km following line of marker posts, passing Loch Esk on right to link with Jock’s Road path (cairn).
6
Turn left and take path past shelter (Davy’s Bourach) and down to forest.
7
Follow path through trees for 2.5km until it joins track coming in from right, and head east past Acharn Farm to car park.
Alan Rowan is a well-known author and walker. You can follow his regular mountain adventures at munromoonwalker.com
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