WFS Diapensia expedition No 1 June 8th 2006
Diapensia lapponica (Diapensia close up)
Diapensia lapponica (Diapensia habitat)
Loiseleuria procumbens (Trailing azalea)
Vaccinium uliginosum (Bog Bilberry)
Diapensia expedition No 1 near the summit The extremely faint dots in the bottom foreground are Diapensia flowers
The Summit
Fortune favours the brave and apparently also the botanically obsessed. The clouds parted and sunshine came through for the first time. The party was strung out over the high hills by now and the experienced walkers plus Bridie were likely to be the first on the scene with the botanists behind them and the photographer botanists (me) last of all.
As I gathered myself for the final 100 feet or so, I could distinctly hear yelps of pleasure from those already at the top. I hoped they'd found the plant but it seemed too much to hope for. Surely they couldn't already have found the one rock on which this very rare alpine grew.
As I reached the first plateau at the top it became obvious why there was so much shouting. Clumps of Diapensia were everywhere basking in the summer sunshine. It was at its very best and in full flower. Far from being one clump on a single rock there were hundreds of cushions each with several disproportionately large creamy flowers compared with the tiny oval leaves of the plant.
It seemed too good to be true so we checked that the flowers had the three lobed fused stigmas which they did although the books didn't seem to mention the very distinctive twin lobed bright yellow anthers. It was indeed Diapensia lapponica growing on bare acid rock most of which had the shiny white crystalline quartz veins accurately described by previous expeditions.
The leaves although generally a darker colour, did look remarkably similar in shape and habit to Loiseleuria procumbens (Trailing azalea). We also noted that the short flowering period might be related to how easy it is to knock a whole flower from its stalk. Whole Diapensia flowers easily fall off like Speedwells when knocked slightly.
As we looked around trying to choose the best clump to photograph, it occurred to me that this plant grew on the least nutritious piece of rock in Scotland. Later I discovered that it also grows on top of Mount Washington in the United States where wind speeds of 234 mph have been recorded. It is now believed that some of the nutrients it needs to survive are blown in by wind and trapped in the clumps. If this is true then it probably needs an exposed windy position to survive and probably wouldn't be able to compete with plants growing in even poor soil. It is a sort of ground dwelling version of a sea anemone.
We spent some time at the top marvelling at how this famous and inaccessible plant had not only successfully colonised the three or more rocky plateaux on this single mountain peak but seemed to love it there. As long a this habitat remains the cold, high, inaccessible place with bare rock and no soil that it is, Diapensia would appear to be in no danger.
My reckoning is that there are probably over 1,000 separate Diapensia clumps on the various rocky promontories which make up the summit of this mountain. I guess that the reason why the abundance was never mentioned to us by other botanists was that so many have made the ascent only to reach the top in bad weather or after flowering and been only too glad to get back down to civilisation without doing too much exploring of the summit plateaux.
The Descent
It was too much to hope that our descent would be a joyful wander down the way we'd come up. Our leader decided that we would descend by route better suited to hang-gliders and we went directly down the mountain at a steep angle. As those of you will know, this is the time when you are really glad of your stick. Two would have been even better. Descending a mountain doesn't get you out of breath like climbing but it can ruin you knees and it's very easy to slip.
The sun shone all the way down and we even started to worry a little about sun burn. Eventually we reached the track by the river where we were able to splash ice cold water on our feet and faces. A two mile stroll back to the car park led to a very happy group saying their goodbyes. Unencumbered by fickle youth, our successful expedition had been on a trip seven and a half miles long (measured only on the flat), we'd taken about eight hours and that included at least 2,800 feet up and down again.
However the day had just one other special surprise for us.
The sky was now completely clear of clouds with no trace of cloud or mist even on the highest peaks. As we travelled back towards Fort William we were treated to the sight of Ben Nevis basking in the rosy glow of early evening sunlight. A few snow filled pockets and all the splendour of its crags and huge cliffs presented a sight not too often seen.
A few of us were then privileged to be invited for a drink at the nearby house of of one of our party. We looked down a neatly cut croquet lawn edged by specimen trees, rhododendrons and azaleas in full flower. In the background was the full grandeur of the Nevis Grey Corries backed by a blue cloudless sky and to the right, Ben Nevis itself.
We'd seen one of the the rarest plants in the country at its absolute best and now looked out on a view the splendour of which which even a London estate agent couldn't exaggerate.
I sipped my cold beer and reflected on a successful day seeking a rare alpine with good friends in one of the most beautiful parts of Scotland and thought that however materially rich you might be you simply couldn't buy a day like the one we'd enjoyed.
And this was an unofficial WFS trip.
Think how good the real ones must be.
Peter Llewellyn June 25th 2006