‘THE LOWLANDS beyond the Highlands’ is an often used description of Caithness. But while the ‘Kingdom of the Cats’, which is surrounded by the mountains of Sutherland to the south and west and the sea to the north and east, is low-lying it is by no means uniform. In the north and east cattle grow fat and sleek on fine grazing alongside fields of barley. The River Thurso lures salmon fishermen, and the great alkaline lochs of Watten, St John’s and Heilan hold big silver trout in gin-clear water. In the winter wildfowl abound, and huge numbers of snipe lurk in every bog and wet corner. This fertile top corner of Scotland, which was historically part of the Viking kingdom of Orkney, is a sportsman’s paradise but it is the other unique and much wilder region of Caithness that holds even more attraction for the trout fisherman.
The exact boundaries of the Flow Country are a matter of heated debate, but so vast is it that even by the most limited definition it is the most intact and extensive blanket bog system inCountry still bears the scars of shocking environmental vandalism from the planting of conifer forests over tens of thousands of acres driven by subsidy, tax relief and greed. Many of the wonderful trout lochs that are scattered across this landscape were wholly engulfed by alien Sitka spruce, removing the single most stunning aspect of the Flow Country – its huge skies and vast vistas. My answer to the vexed question of where the Flow Country’s boundaries lie is defined by views, not maps. You know you are in the Flows if you can see Ben Dorrery to the east, Morvern and the Maiden Pap or the Ben Ghriams to the south and Ben Loyal with Ben Hope behind to the west. These are the defining views of the Flow Country and the landscape means that they stand out across large distances of bog and loch unless, of course, there are trees in the way.
