Category: Outdoor Activities
Confinement
24th May 2020 Looking back on last year now, it strikes me just how I never went walking the countryside as much as I might have done. However, there were preoccupations weighing on my mind. Ongoing political events were among them but a then forthcoming upheaval in my working life was a more pronounced concern. The latter continued into this year but was sorted in March though it had limited excursions in January as much as the weather did likewise in February.
Whatever tricky challenges I had imagined for 2020, they became nothing compared to a new viral disease that had sent us all into lockdown. In my case, it also brought added tension that got the better of me in April. Chats with clinicians have helped and I am moving beyond the episode now thanks to clarification of thinking as much as daily relaxation exercises.
Throughout all of this, I ventured out of doors every day for physical exercise in the locality. Some days, I have contented myself with local parks (Riverside, Victoria, South and West) but my horizons have expanded on other ones. As well as walking, I have returned to cycling too in an effort to make the current time feel less confining. While fairer weather and the time of year add encouragement, it also is amazing how a level of restriction causes you to make more use of what you have and that applies to me too.
All the while, I have been seeking our quieter places for an added sense of relaxation. Generally, I would have sought solitude anyway but social distancing is another motivation. Living in Macclesfield, I am fortunate to have nearby hill country into which I can escape. Of course, others can have similar ideas and that is why I limit travel along both the Macclesfield Canal and the Middlewood Way.
Tegg's Nose and Croker Hill have seen encounters along with a variety of local places like Henbury, Gawsworth, Bollington, Prestbury, Rainow, Siddington, Marton, Alderley Edge, Chelford, North Rode and Bosley. The latter list sounds fairly extensive in its disorderly arrangement but it is good to have such surrounding countryside when so many are staying close to home.
Some places like Henbury can be busier that might be expected so it is taking some time to learn how to ensure social distancing is ever improving. Cutting down on touching of surfaces and bringing hand sanitiser on an outing is part of the way of things at the moment though there have been little moral boosters as well.
It might any some but the pervasive of sunny days is a blessing too and I have been making photos as I go. It is amazing what new sights you can find on a local patch. For instance, Macclesfield's South Park offers views of Shutlingsloe and Croker Hill that add to a sunny evening stroll. There are new rights of way to find and travel as well as amenities like Bosley Reservoir. It all helps to lift a mood and can grant you a quiet relaxing cycling or stroll if you get things right with timing. Going out when others are not inspired to do the same remains a possibility as much as finding where they have not been inspired to go.
An autumnal return to Derbyshire’s Great Ridge
3rd March 2020 Late last year, I got to read Tim Flannery's Europe: The First 100 Million Years. While this mainly is a palaeontological tale, it also features geological facets too, and it fascinates me that Europe is in essence built from an island archipelago. Putting all that together probably gave us the hills and mountains that we enjoy today, and I am left wondering if there are echoes of those former islands in the diversity of nations that exist throughout history and into our own time. The latter story leads to the politics of preceding and current ages, of which I was reminded while reading Simon Jenkins' A Short History of Europe: From Pericles to Putin. That was another of my recent reads, though I do limit my exposure to news of current developments since they tend to hurt just a bit.
It is not the latter that causes me to recount my recent reading, but the book that I mentioned at the beginning. After all, I am recalling a hike from October 2017 that took in an area with limestone formations laid down by undersea creatures when it was in the tropics, such is the rearranging work of plate tectonics. Yorkshire may be better known for such things, but Derbyshire has its share too.
The autumn of 2017 was for me a time for recuperation and recovery, and there were sunnier slots that lured me out and about. In contrast, its counterpart in 2019 was filled with near-continual wet weather, uncertainty and some big career decisions. 2020 has seen much of the same kind of weather already, but the work conundrum is on its way to getting resolved, so I can look ahead a little more.
All of that lay in the future on the sunny Sunday in 2017 when I travelled to Hope after having whetted my appetite for hill wandering around Calderdale. Naturally, the weather lured others out and about too, with some being less prepared with knowledge than was ideal. Hearing the questions of some, it was if they were destined for a self-contained spot like Lyme Park rather than the more open country around the Hope Valley. Still, they made their own way after some guidance from others, and our paths crossed later in the day.
My destination was somewhere that I reckon I had not trodden since a wet weather outing in December 2009: Derbyshire's Great Ridge. This time, I walked it in the opposite direction from the two other occasions that I recall walking it; in addition to the 2009 encounter, there was a sunnier Sunday traverse earlier that decade (perhaps in 2002) and that took me over Win Hill too if I remember correctly.
In some ways, it was that first-ever trip that lured me back again. Then, film photography was my means of recording any sights that I witnessed along the way, and I fancied seeing what I could do with digital image capture. That was more than enough encouragement for the initial ascent of Lose Hill. Getting there from Hope train station took me around by Aston, Farfield Farm, Kirkhill Bridge and Losehill Farm. Sunny skies were my lot all the while, though greater cloudiness was to intrude later in the hike.
Once up on Lose Hill, I could see a lot more of what surrounded me, with Hope village and Win Hill being among these. The Great Ridge is a popular place to hike too, so I needed to share the way with others as far as Win Hill when I took a quieter route on the way to Castleton. There still were plenty of moments of solitude, though, so the trail did feel too crowded.
An easy-to-follow trail carried me along the undulating ridge, and the pleasing sights in the autumn sunshine continued despite all the clouds in the sky. Views were there to take my eyes back along where I had come, as well as peering where I had not been. Hope Valley and Edale were there to be surveyed as much as the hills that surrounded them. While there was much that was familiar, there also were a multitude of new sights to savour just as well.
Mam Tor was a busy place as it so often is, and it was not solely foot travellers who had found their way there, but paragliders also were about in numbers. As is often the case with honeypots, it takes going a little distance away to regain added solitude. Unusually, this act took me downhill instead of gaining some height, as is so often the case.
By now, I was en route towards Castleton as the sun declined ever more in the sky. The day was nearing its end, but the scenery was not to be plunged into darkness so quickly. My route was to take me over Windy Knoll and past Rowter Farm as I traipsed towards a rendezvous with the Limestone Trail for the last stretch of my outdoor strolling for the day.
It was to address a missing section of a hike from Buxton to Castleton on a summer's day that lost the route of the Limestone Trail somewhere near Peak Forest. Getting the rest of the way took a spot of muddled navigation, with general positioning being evident, but greater precision was lost to me at the time. Still, I got to where I wanted to be, albeit with a sense of dissatisfaction at its execution.
Even with declining light, there was none of that imprecision this time around, and I dropped into Cave Dale as intended. What slowed things was the need for careful progress along a track over limestone paving. That took its toll on my already fatigued limbs, but I got to Castleton without any sense of mishap. From there, a mix of bus and rail travel was to get me home again after a more than decent day out.
Travel Arrangements
Return train journey between Macclesfield and Hope, with a change in Manchester Piccadilly. Bus journey from Castleton to Hope.
Reeling in some leap years
27th February 2020 There was a series on Irish television called "Reeling in the Years" where each program covered happenings in a certain year in the past using archive footage. The concept may not have been all that original though the focus of Irish events gave it a certain uniqueness. It was the sort of light television programming that could be repeated endlessly should a vacant slot need occupying.
Of course, that is not how I tend to view the entries on here and I often struggle to complete a trip report as I have been doing for a while with a day spent along Derbyshire's Great Ridge in the autumn of 2017. Sometimes, what should produce a timely report can gain the feel of an archive item.
Nevertheless, 2020 is a leap year and a very rainy, snowy and windy February gains an extra day; it is hard to believe that we were basking in unseasonably warm sunshine just over a year ago. Perhaps, it is little wonder then that I often state that we get weather instead of seasons and such is the defining characteristic of a maritime climate.
January and February often are the quieter months of the year so there is some time for looking back and a little forward planning. Thus, I take this opportunity to cast my mind back over leap years from a outdoor wandering vantage point since that stops me at 2000 when I commenced my working life after formal education.
By 2004, my pedestrian hill wandering had come into being with Scotland being a major focus along with England and Wales. The year itself was terrible from a weather standpoint with the summer being a washout. Only some flexibility at work allowed me to snatch a drier interlude to go north to Lorn and Lochaber to make the most of a fleeting opportunity.
2008 then was the third calendar year for this blog and saw a high point in my Scottish rambling. Until very recently, a week in August spent among some of the Western Isles became my most adventurous escapade ever. Skye was a staging point and I managed to avoid much of the rain that came from a stalled front lying across Ireland, England and Scotland. It now seems surreal that there was some glorious weather to be enjoyed on Harris, Berneray, North Uist, Benbecula and South Uist.
The occasional good fortune of those islands again manifested itself in 2012 when they in fact endured a drought while the the rest of Britain has the wettest summer ever. It was only the dryness of the Outer Hebrides that stopped the year going down in records as being wetter than in 2000, a year that I hardly regard as being that rainy at all though there were autumn deluges. The differences in weather were missed in 2012, not only because of a certain weather myopia but also because the heavy workload of 2011 had drained me to the point that energy for planning a return to the Western Isles just was not there.
By 2016, major changes were taking place in my life after the passing of both my parents. These were becoming evident in 2012 and the combination of a busy working life and ongoing inheritance works became enough to break me. One saving grace was that I started exploring elsewhere in Europe and that began in 2015. 2016 saw an extended weekend spent in each of Austria and Norway while there also was a mid-winter break in Mallorca. It was the latter than really taught me a lesson with a heavy cold and the others might have been but palliative care for an ongoing malaise. Changes were coming.
As I look back, it is tempting to think that leap years are not always the best for me though I now reckon that they were not as bad as I might have thought them at the time. 2020 could prove no different but that remains to be seen. Changes are continuing and I now work for myself so overseas and other excursions can continue alongside the other things that need doing. Only time will show what chances are available.
Some Irish hiking titbits
22nd January 2020 In the middle of the first decade of the century, blogging was an activity that felt new and novel. Thus, walking, hiking, backpacking and other outdoor activity blogs felt likewise, and I did mention other blogs on here in those early days. That has lapsed, but some reading about Irish outdoor activities stoked it up again.
It was perusing an Irish adventure guidebook that had lain unread for more than two years that caused the perhaps momentary restart. Hiking and walking are my main interests, but the book also included others like swimming, diving, snorkelling, surfing, caving and climbing. It also promoted responsible enjoyment of nature's delights, so it perhaps was not a surprise to have mentions given to Leave No Trace Ireland with its Seven Principles and Invasive Species Northern Ireland.
There are very good reasons for highlighting the need to respect the countryside when legal access is so limited that there is much dependence on the permissive kind and goodwill can be lost so easily by a spot of carelessness. It is a theme that recurs in reports on the Mountain Views website, where many a hill outing gets documented. It is not just the likes of James Forest who visit Irish hilltops.
Of course, not everyone is bound for a summit, so initiatives that have given us the National Waymarked Trails or Loop Walks more than retain their importance. Satisfyingly, there is about 4,000 km of walking covered by the former of these and someone set to walking all of them, and that story gets told on the Tough Soles blog. However, this was not what brought it to my attention, but rather the maps that are shared on there. Completing the lot is quite a feat, and others might be inspired to do the same and make Ireland even more of a walking destination. Anything that drives enhancement of facilities has to be a good thing.
Trip reports often get accompanied by photos, and that is very true of my own offerings. What is more unusual is when artwork like sketching or painting is used instead, as is the case on the Hikelines blog. Initially, this featured many longer hikes in Ireland, but a knee injury sadly changed that. Even so, the shorter strolls still suffice for adding those alluring handcrafted images and new posts retain the same amount of interest.
Even now, my own incursions remain more limited than anything mentioned above, so there remains more scope for advancement beyond what I did in the counties of Clare and Galway during August 2018. For this, the prospect of an extended weekend in Killarney appeals when there is so much near at hand there. For that, the Killarney Shuttle Bus may or may not have a use depending on its intent, though I have seen it mentioned in the book described near the start of this entry. If not, longer self-devised circular walking routes would support any desired exploring like they have done for me in other places.
Another thought arose while writing these words: using previously visited places as launchpads for exploring new locations. Dursey Island in West Cork or the Blasket Islands near Dingle are examples that come to mind, and small offshore islands do have much to offer a seeker of wider adventure. The Irish mainland does some of that too and I even get to think about counties where I never have set foot; Down, Donegal or Sligo are just three of these with hills that await attention.
What gets in the way of seeing all this is a wider wanderlust that is the cause of my reading guidebooks while surveying other prospective holiday destinations. That will continue, and it is premature to talk of these possibilities and the ones that might have come to my notice during the Adventure Travel Show that I went to see last weekend. Some plans are best described when they have happened and, in marked contrast to my Irish ruminations, that will remain my approach to these other putative designs.
Revisiting Calderdale after a long absence
23rd December 2019 2007 became a year that was dominated by walking sections of long-distance trails like the Pennine Way. That in turn led me to Calderdale during the spring of that year. Two trips stand out for me with the first being near the start of February and the second near the start of March. Since those, I hardly have explored the area with other places gaining my attention.
This is a part of the world laden with so many public rights of way that it is difficult to pick out a few to facilitate some wandering. Maybe it is better to ramble from one to another in a more haphazard way and civilisation is ever at hand in the valley below the moors in any case. That sort of approach lay in the background as I plied my circuitous way from Hebden Bridge to Todmorden during the autumn of 2017.
It was a sunny if chilly Friday so it was little surprise to see others wandering about as well. Even so, I was about to find plenty of those quieter interludes that I relish so much. The advantage of having many paths to follow is that people can spread out everywhere. Some of these rights of way were not as clear or as well signed as others, but there was no conflict with landowners either.
There may have been a problem with train services going east from Hebden Bridge but it did little to delay my arrival and was soon forgotten as I scaled the steep slopes to reach the moors in the autumn sunshine. Because of all the path options, that also meant correcting a wrong turning and I got to wondering if having a GPS receiver with me might have been better. These days, the OS app on my phone would have been enough to put me right but that lay in the future back then.
The constant sunshine and the multitude of quieter places meant that I could navigate from right of way to right of way in peace and with ample time for ensuring that I was going in the right direction. Some of these followed clear tracks while others took me straight across boggy ground. Along the way, I took in views towards Heptonstall and Mytholmroyd though any sights of Hebden Bridge were lost in the steep-sided cleft of Calderdale. On any hike, some views are left behind you as you proceed towards others.
My eventual destination was Stoodley Pike and getting there meant passage along part of the Pennine Way, so the direction of travel was easy to follow at this point even if the air was chilly enough for me not to tarry for too long. Cloud may have started to fill the sky, but any disruption of sunshine was momentary so I started on my way towards Todmorden. That took me down a steep incline using part of the Calderdale Way to Mankinholes and Lumbutts from where a mixture of road walking and footpath rambling got me to my final destination in ample time for the train journey home again after what had been a satisfying stroll with an added element of problem-solving.
Travel Arrangements
Train journey from Macclesfield to Hebden Bridge followed by a train journey from Todmorden to Macclesfield.
