Glen Mooar

The Year of the Mud

Monday 11th February, 2013

 

This week started with somewhat better winter weather.  It was cold (three and a half degrees when we left the cars near the shore at Glen Wyllin), with just a dusting of light snow on the hills.  The slightly white tops of Sartfell and Freoaghane always make me think of Victoria sponge cakes, sprinkled with icing sugar.  It was fairly windy but the birds weren't flying backwards and the wind was from the east so we were sheltered on the west coast.  And it was almost dry.  Overcast to start off with, and only a couple of random drops of rain but not enough to wet us.  So, all in all, a good day for a hike.

 

We started along the shore towards Glen Mooar.  I decided to do the beach walk first because high tide was at midday.  Sometimes the tide is too far in and we have to scramble over the huge boulders which have been piled up to protect the entrance to Glen Wyllin but today we had timed it right.  The waves were just starting to run up the beach towards the base of the boulders and we were able to walk round them.

 

It isn't a very interesting stretch of beach but I noticed some bird activity on the sand cliffs.  I thought the white birds were probably herring gulls but I couldn't see them very clearly because they were so high above us.  They are barely visible in this photo - but you may be able to make out some white specks in the centre near the top of the cliffs. 

  

I took some photos using maximum zoom - not expecting very good results but hoping to be able to identify the birds.  This was the best.  I am almost certain that the white birds, which are apparently defending their nest site, are fulmars - because they have very distinctive beaks.  Fulmars usually nest on rocky cliffs but these appear to be taking advantage of an old eroded hole, possibly the remains of a rabbit burrow.  The smaller holes, which are being checked out by jackdaws could be old sand martin nesting burrows.

 

We turned up the road when we reached Glen Mooar and passed the ford which always reminds me of a Dorothy story.  A few years ago, she drove down to the shore during unusually cold and stormy weather and when she tried to return through the ford and up the road her car kept slipping back because there was ice on the road.  Not much scares Dorothy, so she reversed back, flattened the accelerator and took a run at the icy patch.  Luckily she managed to escape up the road.  When I reminded her of the incident, she said that she hadn't tried doing it again - once was more than enough.

Trevor got down by the weir to photograph the water which was splashing up behind the inset rocks in little fan-shaped fountains.  He is very good at photographing water.  I love his photo  titled "Running Sea" at the bottom of this webpage  http://www.westernphotographic.org/201213%20Year/Comps/Chairmans%20291112.htm     You can see a larger version by clicking on the image, and then enlarge it further by clicking on the image a second time.

The next part of the walk was along the old railway line where the gorse is already starting to flower.  We are starting to see signs of approaching spring.

We continued along the railway line as far as the road bridge, where we turned up the footpath past the two Skerrisdale Farms - Skerrisdale Mooar and Skerrisdale Beg.  There are quite a few adjoining Manx farms with the same first name.  One will be called . . .  Mooar (large) and the other . . .  Beg (small).  I wonder whether they were originally one farm and the Beg part was divided off for a younger son of the farmer.  We turned north at the top of the hill, along the extension of the Staarvey Road which is also called the Monks Road.  It is so eroded in places that it is more like a donga (eroded ravine) than a road.   It goes downhill into the valley near one of our best known waterfalls - Spooyt Vane.  I took a photo of Tim taking a photo of the falls.

  

At the junction of the track to the waterfall and the tarred road up the hill, we had one of our committee meetings.  There was a choice of routes - the railway line which was probably muddy or the tarred road which involved climbing another hill.  Tim voted for the hill and Dorothy said she wasn't bothered - so we headed up the hill.  It was fine until we reached the end of the tarred road.  Then the track down to Cooildharry turned out to be a mixture of puddles and mud.  So we ended up having both the hill and the mud.  Tim said that it is not the Year of the Snake on the Island . . . it is the Year of the Mud!