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Old June 29th, 2010, 09:17 PM posted to uk.rec.fishing.game
Sandy Birrell
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Default The Hare, the Hound and the Tortoise

The Hare, the Hound and the Tortoise

18-20th June

(pictures here
http://www.ftscotland.co.uk/gallery/...inverlael.html )

It was three years in the planning before we eventually got everything
together and headed for Inverlael and Lochan a` Chnapaich. I picked up
Fred, the Hare, and Suzy, the Hound, in the car park at Carrbridge in
warm sunny weather. The temperature had varied from 21șC to 19șC on
the drive up and I wasn't looking forward to walking in the heat. By
the time we reached the car park at Inverlael the sun was still
shining but the temperature was down to 14șC and felt colder in the
Northerly airstream that was blowing down the glen.

Getting boots on and preparing for the walk takes time so the Hare
thought he would get the Hound to eat one of her meals to save
carrying it up the hill. She wasn't having any of that but was
prepared to hoover up the crumbs and fallen lettuce from his roll, he
ended up having to carry it after all.

The first part of the walk is through forestry, now partly cleared but
replanted, on an unmetalled hard packed forestry road making the going
easy, but I find hard on the feet. This two-mile section was to set
the trend for the rest of the walk. The Hound, oldest at 63 (9x7 human
years) although I think that should be halved as she has four legs,
roaming in front nosing into everything and anything she could find.
Next the Hare, typical Munro bagger, Alpinist, hill walker style with
hands stuck in the trouser pockets, head down and staccato steps
eating up the miles, at nearing 58 the youngest of the party. The rear
was taken by the Tortoise, nearer 60 than 59, with measured steps
pacing himself for the anticipated climb still to come. Half an hour
to this point was acceptable; it was all downhill, sorry, uphill after
that.

The great bulk of the mountain we were heading for took up the view on
the horizon with the path winding its way ever higher in the
foreground.

The climb from here on was on a well-made stalkers path, eroded
slightly in places but still in good order, you can tell that when it
is the only thing you see for three miles. That isn't strictly true I
had enough rest stops to look around at the view and the back of the
Hound and Hare far above me. They did stop and let me catch up a few
times though so that was considerate of them.

Three and a half hours, and a touch over three miles later, we
eventually reached the loch. I didn't even have the pleasure of
collapsing in a heap at this point as the tent had to be put up and
dinner made. The extra long sleeve t-shirt had to be put on and the
lightweight fleece on top of that too as it was freezing in the strong
north wind that was blowing right into the corrie.

The Hare decided on a reconnaissance of the area and the Hound
accompanied him, the Tortoise mucked about the camp then, when they
returned, decided that it would be warmer in the tent than standing
about in the freezing wind outside.

Next day the temperature hadn't got any warmer and the wind was
stronger if anything. I had woken during the night and my nose and
cheeks, all that was exposed to the air, were freezing so it must have
been a cold night.

We had breakfast, then, without too much hope of success in the
strong, cold, gusty wind, we started fishing round the loch. The air
temperature at this point was 12șC and the water the same. The water
was crystal clear and I could see the bottom clearly with the
polaroids. There were patches of small boulders with areas of mud and
short grass like weedy areas that shone brilliant green in the strong
sunshine. There were also deep black areas that could have been deep
holes or just barren rocky or muddy areas. There were only a few
patches of longer weeds that looked like last years growth with no new
growth discernable amongst the fronds. There wasn't a lot of fly life
about although the grass and heather seemed to be full of Cinnamon
Sedge and Stone Fly and every time you picked up the rucksack there
would be half a dozen clinging to it, I even found them inside the
gaiters and boots in the morning as I was putting them on. There was
the odd upwing fly that I didn't get a chance to identify but were
possibly Claret or Sepia Duns. At the edge of the water I saw shrimp,
snails and brown speckled tadpoles, possibly Toad.

Casting was a nightmare as the wind would go from a gentle breeze to a
full on gale even as you were casting. Being a corrie loch it also had
the tendency to change direction without warning in your face one
minute, left or right the next then gusting in from the rear as the
cast whistled by. I gave it my best and fished the whole loch, a bit
more in the afternoon when the wind calmed down and so did the loch,
but it wasn't to be, and I never saw nor touched a fish.

In between fishing we also managed to wander about the area. It is an
amazing place with great mounds of boulders covered with short dry
grass and stunted heather, real Alpine type terrain. In between, if
you looked closely, were the alpine plants, small cushions with the
most delicate of flowers barely above ground level. Difficult to see
at first but once found you seemed to come across them at every turn.

There were also large and small depressions where the rock was black
and bare of any lichens as if it is under water for long periods while
it slowly drains through the rocks to appear farther down the mountain
exploding as a full-grown river.

It was an early night again on the Saturday as the temperature had
dropped to 6șC by 8:00 pm although the wind had dropped and it didn't
feel quite as cold as it had the night before, either that or we were
just getting used to it.

Next morning, our last, the cloud was right down and visibility was
only thirty yards or so. We had breakfast and packed the tents and
sleeping bags into the rucksacks. The loch was flat calm but, what you
could see of it, was untouched by neither rising flies nor fish. We
shouldered our packs and after a check of the area we walked back down
the path to the car. Two hours and twenty minutes for the five and a
half or so miles; downhill is certainly easier than up.

If you are a walker it is worth the walk, even if you don't fish the
loch. Leave the path in the corrie and wander about the terrain and,
if it is June, look out for the flowers. We didn't lay Fred's ghost to
rest, he was sure he had seen rising fish there many years ago, but
the experience of the area and the alpine plants made up for the lack
of fish.

©2010 Alexander Birrell


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Don`t Worry, Be Happy

Sandy
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