When the forest is a crop

Some of the timber heading south on our roads hardly looks substantial enough to reward the decades spent growing it. Looking at a lorry loaded with relatively slender logs, I sometimes wonder how much useful building timber anyone could get from them. Yet those loads are the harvest of an industry occupying considerable stretches of the North Highlands. On the way to the viewpoint at Struie Hill, we drive through extensive conifer plantations, and this is where I usually introduce guests to the idea that we are passing a crop, just one requiring rather more patience than potatoes.

From that road, forestry can appear to occupy an enormous amount of the country, although a published estimate puts woodland at about an eighth of the wider Highland region. That includes native woods as well as plantations, with vast areas remaining open. Where we travel makes quite a difference to the impression we take away. Britain’s dependence on imported timber helps explain why so much planting took place. Wartime disruption exposed that vulnerability, prompting the creation of the Forestry Commission in 1919, while the Second World War reinforced the need to grow more at home. Grants and tax advantages encouraged private investment in a crop that would take decades to mature.

Around the top of Glen Loth, several stages of that investment sit remarkably close together. Within about a mile, we can pass a standing plantation, ground that has been harvested and replanted, and another area where branches and stumps are slowly turning silver, with young conifers appearing among them. It can look as though somebody has removed the valuable timber and abandoned the clearing up, although leaving woody material behind can return nutrients to the soil and provide habitat. A harvested plantation needn’t become a neatly cleared field before another crop begins. Where forestry gives way to peatland restoration, the intention is different, and we explore that separately in our peatlands section.

Meanwhile, the timber lorries connect those hillsides with people working in haulage, sawmills and manufacturing. Not every log is destined to become a substantial beam, because fencing, packaging, manufactured boards and fuel all provide markets for the harvest. My roadside assessment of a skinny trunk is therefore a rather limited guide to its usefulness. In the audio blogcast, we discover how wood that looks unpromising as a plank can still help build a house, and explore the scale of the livelihoods connected with the Highland forests.

To learn more, listen to the blogcast or book one of our North Coast Explorer private tours.