2018 Scotland - Cattle, Battle, Dogs and Fiddles

We had a nice chat with William this morning and asked whether he raised his Cheviot sheep for wool or meat. They are destined for the table. He explained that the fleece of Scottish sheep is not really profitable, about 50P per fleece. It's coarse and not practical for jumpers (sweaters) and such. It's usually shipped to China and India for use in rugs and carpets. He does shear his sheep, though, "because it's the kind thing to do, isn't it?" (The wool of unshorn sheep will keep growing and matt into heavy dreadlocks.)

William told us that Scottish sheep farmers are concerned about the effects of Brexit upon their livelihood. The French, for example, love Scottish lamb. But without the EU protections , there will be more competition from New Zealand and Australia.

We were relieved we did not have a fire in the bunkhouse last night, because we did not see the handy escape procedure until this morning!

We completely revised our initial plans for today and decided to drive up the western side of Loch Ness and through Inverness to see the Culloden  Battlefield. This was on Lydia's original Scotland must-see list, but it didn't seem to fit in at first. 

On the way, we were excited to spot a small flock of Scottish Highland cattle on the side of the road. Characterized by long horns, long wavy coat and  inscrutable eyes behind a curtain of bangs, they are the cutest cows imaginable. Their long coats help protect them in the winter. They are raised principally for meat.

We drove the length of Loch Ness with several glimpses of the water from the road, but none of Nessie. We didn't stop for a good search, though, as we were focused on our next destination.

On April 16, 1746, Culloden was the site of the last battle on British soil, and the death knell for the Jacobite uprising led by Bonnie Prince Charlie. The battle lasted only 40 minutes. The Jacobites were both outmanned and outclassed by the superior forces and weaponry of the George II supporters. Like Civil War sites in the US, Culloden Moor is preserved with a few memorial sites and quiet places to reflect. There is also a modern interactive visitor's center that walks you through the history leading up to the battle.

Memorial cairn at Culloden 

Markers commemorate the graves of the clans.

This old croft house was used as a hospital after the battle.

We had rearranged our itinerary both to see Culloden and to visit a working sheepdog demonstration that we'd heard about from a couple we'd meet on Skye. The demonstration was at 4 pm. Our host last night, William, was very keen to learn more about this when we mentioned it to him this morning and asked us to let him know how it is. He uses three dogs on his farm.

The Leault Farm in Kincraig is typically bucolic Scottish countryside: hilly, rocky, sparsely dotted with sheep and a rare farm structure. The trainer's two sons, around 8 and 12, directed us to park and collected £5 each. Dogs and some unperturbed lambs (we later learned they are orphaned lambs that are being handfed) wandered around the area until Neil Ross pulled up in his truck. As soon as they heard the truck, the dogs leapt to attention and quickly surrounded their trainer when he got out of the truck.

Resting up until the boss arrives.

The demonstration was great. Neil introduced the 11 border collies he was working with today (he has about 2 dozen trained), which included a 20 week puppy that participated with great enthusiasm although not yet trained. 

The sheep spend the winters about 30 miles away, free ranging in the highlands. They are rounded up in the spring, separated according to owner and turned out to graze on the farms. They are sheared in June and July, a process that takes a farm several weeks. As William had told us, the pelts are shipped to Asia. It takes 4 or 5 years for the sheep to reach market size, so the sheep are herded back into the hills in the fall, then cycle through again. Neil said that the meat of a sheep is worth £50 while the wool perhaps £3.

Nell used a system of shrill whistles to signal and direct his dogs through their paces. Each knows its own signal, plus the cues directing what they should do. They were eager, attentive and responsive. Those not being directed would lay down or trot among the spectators until they heard their signal.

Three dogs were sent over the hills and returned shortly with a group of sheep, darting back and forth to pick up stragglers.

The shepherd's crook is used to pull a sheep out of the scrum, hooking over its horn.

The sheep became totally passive when turned on its back.

Lydia took a turn at shearing the sheep.

And on to Ballinluig, a small village near Pitlochry.

We arrived at our Airbnb to find the house empty. I called, and Wayne was there in 10 minutes to welcome us with tea and some some gourmet cookies from the chocolatier where his wife works. He invited us to join him and his son, Liam, at a weekly session of traditional music at a "wee historic town" 8 miles away. I said yes, Lydia decided to pass. So I am writing this part of the blog in the bar of the Royal Dunkeld Hotel, enjoying a half point of hard cider. Sixteen local musicians (fiddlers, recorders, accordions, bagpipe, flute, guitars) are jamming with great precision. Wayne is playing accordion; Liam, (who teaches high school music), is playing fiddle and a guitar his grandfather made of rosewood. It's grand!

I'll try to add a link to a video later.