The strange case of the Highland bull who learned to jump

The new day was bright, crisp and clear. A sharp overnight frost had formed a crust on old snow. All was well in the world of Romesdal, and had been since the start of the winter feeding season.

Then came an unexpected knock on the front door. 'If you're the keeper of a Highland bull then the animal is on the main road', said a strange but kindly-faced man.

The phone was ringing also and my wife answered. Her cousin from the cottage on the eastern edge of the croft told her the bull had jumped the fence and onto the main road.

I rushed about in frantic haste, throwing on jacket and hat and exited the back door in time to see our bull, Big Iain, cantering down the Mill Road. The dun bullock, his companion, was on the field side of the road fence keeping pace.

(Image is of Iain the bull in his park)

'Phew! at least he was off the main road', I thought with relief.

As to how and why they got out of the bull park, that would have to wait.

As I ventured out the bull had stopped half way down the road and with head up was looking all around. He was obviously in an agitated state.

I reached the side gate into the field where I hoped to lead him back to safety and began calling him to me - he knows his name's Iain, by the way - with no success.

Experience tells that the easiest way make beast do what you want is to entice with food. At this time of year anyway. So I headed to the byre for a bag of cobs. As the bull is used to seeing me on a quad and associates it with feeding time I decided to take the quad as well.

Riding down the Mill road towards the bull I could see he was interested. I stopped about twenty meters from him and advanced on foot with the bag of food. He didn't run away or charge towards me, which I took to be good signs.

Carefully I edged near him, softly calling his name and offering him a look at the feed bag. The bull slowly and nervously advanced. I placed some cobs on the ground in front of him and retreated with the bag back to the quad. He finished the cobs and looked up for more.

(This is the quad bike mentioned)

Mounted on the quad I began the slow journey back up the road to the field, stopping every so often to lay a cob on the ground as a lure. The thought of food seemed to have calmed him and thus I managed to entice him off the road, through the gate and into the field.

I was lucky there were no vehicles trying to get up or down the Mill road during this time otherwise he would most likely have been spooked again and taken off.

I left the bull and bullock in peace to settle down and got on with the job of feeding the rest of cattle and sheep.

Once finished, I loaded the quad with a bale of hay and some cobs and went to feed the bull and the bullock. The plan was to lead them back into their bull park at the southern corner of the croft and let the matter be.

A necessary digression: The bull park.

There is a house on the croft, Romesdal Cottage, the former home of my wife's late aunt and uncle bounded in the east and south by the Romesdal river. Access is by a track from the main A87 trunk road. The northern boundary fence of the cottage has created a 'corner' of the croft which we deemed ideal as a place to put the bull when not working. All that was needed was to run a fence down the side of the access track to cottage with a gate in the middle.

Anyway, back to the day in question, I'm on the quad with the feed, the bull and bullock are in the field and, as I lead them over a rise in the ground back to their park, I notice two cars at the top of the cottage access track by the main road. The gate is also open. There is a woman coming up the track from the direction of the house. My wife's cousin and owner of the cottage.

I about turn and with the beasts in tow go to a far corner of the field out of sight of the main road, cars, people and open gates. There I feed them their cobs and spread the bale of hay in the hope they will settle down.

Finished, I rode up to speak to the cousin and see what had happened. I was told that as she was dragging a wheelie bin from the cottage up the access track to exit by the main road, the noise of the wheels on the crunchy snow had caused the bull and bullock to freak out.

The bullock jumped the fence onto to track and was away whilst the bull jumped the fence by the gate at the main road. Actually, he more went through the fence rather than jumped and it was a sorry looking section of fencing indeed. The idea of putting the beasts back in their park would have to be curtailed for the moment, until the fence was mended.

So there you have (for the moment for there is more in part 2)

A case of what can go wrong will go wrong, expect the unexpected and that's what you get for being smug and complacent and thinking you are in control.

A short drive around Trotternish

One of the benefits of living on Skye is that you can go for a drive and admire the scenery. Last Sunday, for instance, instead of returning home from Portree by the usual route, I took the Staffin road instead.

Trotternish is a peninsular and Staffin is on the east side with Romesdal on the west so basically this is is a circular drive. The first landmark is The Storr.

Next point of note is Lealt and then Kilt Rock and on into the township of Staffin itself.

A small road just beyond Staffin is a shortcut across the peninsular to Uig, but first you ascend a very steep section to the Quairang.

Alternatively you can drive on and pass Flodigarry with its beautiful hotel and stunning views across to the mainland and on up the Duntulm, site of another hotel and the ruins of an ancient castle on a headland.

A few miles before Duntulm, however, at a lonely Phone Box with a tiny carpark beside, is the start of a pathway which if followed will take you to an old coastguard station on the cliff edge, and a steeply descending path to the tip of Trotternish, Ruabh Hunnish. From here, in season, you can watch minke whales and basking sharks pass by on their migratory wanderings.

All the time their are stunning seascapes across to, at first, the island of Rona, then the mainland and finally at the top across across the Little Minch to the mountains of Harris. Like I said, there is a lot of scenery to admire.

The road back home via Uig is also full of wonders and places to admire.

The Trotternish Museum of Island Life is a restored township of thatched houses and gives a taste of life as it was lived here not so long ago, This is a must stop for the first time visitor. Close by in an old graveyard is the final resting place of Flora MacDonald of Bonnie Prince Charlie fame. Seems Flora got about a bit as she once lived at Flodigarry and Kingsburgh. Of course, Flora was also a world traveller and spent years in the Carolinas.

And then on to Kilmuir and sheep and cattle in small fields by the roadside, down to Totescore and on to Uig bay and the road back home.

This little drive never fails to impress and underscore the luckiness of living in such a beautiful and ever changing environment.