Heading for higher ground

A traditional walk-about on the hill to mark the Glorious Twelfth yields little in the way of grouse but offers time and space to reflect on seasons past, present and future

- PATRICK LAURIE

I shot my first grouse on the hill where my grandfather farmed in Galloway. That was 12 August 1999 and I was three days shy of turning 14. I would love to claim that moment as a shining example of my own sporting prowess, but in truth it was quite shambolic. I fired twice at a straggler from a covey of six. There was no way that I could have made contact and I felt sure that my uncle was just being kind when he claimed to have seen my bird with a leg down. The dogs were sent to explore and to my surprise and delight, a bird returned to my hand with a gentle plop.

It was the only bird in the bag that day, but we filled the gap with a couple of hares and a handful of rabbits. This was my first proper introduction to the sport I love and it stays crystal clear in my memory as we approach the 21st anniversary of the day. The hill has hardly changed a bit during that time, though my grandfather passed away soon afterwards and the land has been farmed by my uncle ever since. It’s a white and tussocky kind of moor and the best of the grouse live on 900 acres of the highest ground.

Heather beetle

Sift through the undergrowth at ankle height and there is plenty to be said for this hill. There’s blaeberry and crowberry, and when spring comes the wet ground is alive with cottongrass. We have struggled badly with heather beetle in the past and it is generally reckoned that most of our heather was lost to beetle in the 1980s. Recurrent outbreaks spring up now and again, but the truth is that we don’t have much to lose any more.