It is with great sadness that we bid farewell to Ian Scott, fondly known as Scotty, a true forestry legend who has touched our lives and left an indelible mark on our hearts.
Photo Myself, Scotty and Tracy
This has been one of the most difficult and gut-wrenching pieces I have ever had to write. My good friend Davy Marshall, AKA “Weasel” got in touch to see if I had heard the sad news regarding the passing of Scotty last week
This left me in a state of shock, as not only was it unexpected but Scotty was the youngest of the three of us.
I first met Scotty in the late 1980s when he was working for Tam and Ian Scott from Castle Douglas. At the time, I was working with Arthur Tulloch in Lauriston Forest and had some forestry items for sale. I was advised to visit Scotty, who was working just a couple of miles away, and was looking for similar items. It was an extremely cold early morning when I set out to find him, but when I arrived, there was no sign of life on site except for an old Escort Van parked in a nearby layby that looked like it had been abandoned.
I parked next to the van, hoping to see if anyone showed up. Just as I poured myself a cup of coffee from my flask, I noticed the van start to shake a bit. Then, the back doors swung open, and a dishevelled Scotty crawled out from under a bunch of old coats and blankets. His van had broken down the night before, and he had to camp out as everyone had left for home before he finished his shift.
It was a couple of years later when I saw Scotty again. By this time, Scotty, Weasel and I were all working for Elliot Henderson. I had driven down to Tweedsmuir, just outside of Moffat, from Aberfoyle, as I had just finished forwarding a site. My forwarder had been moved earlier in the day, and I had a few things to take care of before following it down.
It was late when I arrived, and because my tow bar was damaged, I could not bring my caravan. My idea was to work through the night so I could at least keep warm in the forwarder until my caravan was delivered. Unfortunately, the best-laid plans often do not work out, and when I reached the forest entrance, the gate was shut and locked.
It was now my time to sleep in a car on a freezing cold night.
The following morning, Weasel and Scotty arrived, and after thawing me out with hot coffee, we headed off to work.
A few months later, we were on a different site in the same area, but I was going through a difficult period, and Weasel and Scotty, who took me under their wing, made sure I was eating properly and never left on my own for long.
Both Scotty and Weasel were incredible friends who played a significant role in helping me turn my life around, and I cherish our bond forever. Over time, we all moved on from our previous jobs at Elliot Henderson to seek new opportunities. Scotty and Weasel were working with Pattison and Moffat, each at different locations, while I was operating a forwarder for the Dick Brothers.
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Timber hauliers need to encourage young blood in, and also look after the hauliers we have, we need make the sector a safe and positive place to work.
FIND US ON
One day, I got my forwarder bogged and had to call my boss for help. He arranged for another forwarder to come to the site, but the operator of that machine got stuck as well. I really did not want to call my boss again, so I decided to drive over to see Scotty, who was working about seven miles away in the same forest. I told him what had happened, and without hesitation, he jumped into his forwarder and came to our rescue. Thanks to him, I avoided a lot of trouble and stress, not to mention the risk of losing my job!
We were all working within the Dumfries and Galloway area, and I had rented a farm cottage outside Castle Douglas. Most Wednesdays, my wife Wendy would prepare a meal for everyone. Weasel and Scotty would come over, bringing alcoholic drinks to wash our meal down. I still remember the first time Scotty came to visit; he brought a nice bottle of red wine that we all enjoyed a bit too quickly!
He soon learned, and the next week, when he arrived, he brought a 3-litre wine box, having decided that quantity, not quality, was what these ex-woodcutters required.
They were great times, and I was pleased to give a little back to my good friends.
Tam Scott, one of Scotty’s early employers, stated that he would never make the grade as a forwarder operator. I have never known anyone more wrong. Scotty was one of the most gifted, hardworking, and productive forward operators I have ever seen. Tam was well known for being miserable, and Scotty’s impersonations of him were legendary, always leaving us in stitches.
Scotty was also an amazing Piper and would practice with his chanter when forwarding. He is legendary in Moffat: one night at throwing-out time in the pub, he went missing, and it was only when the Skirl of the pipes was heard on the high street in the early hours that Scotty was found.
All three of us kept in touch over the years, but geography kept us apart, and our get-togethers became fewer.
I think I had an amazing weekend with Scotty at the Moniaive gala day! We had a lot of fun, but we drank large quantities of alcohol, so most of my weekend was a blur.
Another great weekend was Scotty and Tracy’s wedding in Moniaive, and, sadly, that was the last time all three of us were together.
It was heartwarming to see Scotty so happy and settled in a loving relationship.
I was living and working in the Trossachs, while Weasel was down in Northumberland and Scotty was in Dumfries and Galloway. Because of the distance, we did not get to see each other as often as we hoped. We always planned to catch up, but something kept coming up. I tried to visit Scotty a few times on a whim, but he was never around when I did.
This year, I intended to make a trip to see him, but now, given the circumstances, it’s a decision I will always regret not making sooner. The silver lining, though, is that whenever we finally did meet up, it felt like no time had passed at all. We were always thrilled to see each other again, picking up right where we left off.
Scotty’s passing is a huge loss. He was a one-off, the kindest, funniest and most genuine person you could ever meet, and I feel lucky to have called him my friend.
Everyone who knew him will have nothing but fond memories of their time together.
Like all great legends, although he is not here physically, he will always be with us in our hearts.
Rest easy, auld boy.
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Written by loggers for loggers and dedicated solely to the equipment used in forestry operations.