Category: Outdoor Activities
Remnants
11th April 2010 This weekend, I fitted in an overnight stay in Capel Curig and a strenuous walk over the top of Moel Siabod while en route from Dolwyddelan. Following that ardour, anything done today needed to be less energetic, though a hike over boggy ground and through woodland conveyed me to Betws-y-Coed from where I travelled home again.
Around the same time last year, I was in the same area and the one difference that stays in my mind is that there remained streaks of snow after the winter that we got. Moel Siabod had them and so had Snowdon, the Glyderau and the Carneddau too. It is small wonder that I had brought the Microspikes with me, though I largely avoided any difficulty in the event. Saying that, I did manage to inadvertently scoop up some snow in my right boot (I left off the gaiters, and the trousers are only fit for the washing machine now...) with a single ill-taken step. A spot of boot removal and flicking off any invaders from my sock was all that was needed for redress.
Last Sunday's outing was very different, but the sight of flecks, patches and streaks laying on much lower hills was held in common. Normally, you wouldn't see snowy remnants at this time of year while journeying along the A537 between Macclesfield and Buxton, yet I did this year. In fact, anytime that eyes gazed in the direction of the upper reaches of Edale, there were telltale white patches there too. If my imagination wasn't fooling me, I even think that I might have spotted a white speck on Lose Hill while on the train home. Not being accustomed to these sights, I tend to notice them, but a more seasoned observer mightn't pay that much heed.
This past weekend has distracted me from promised illustrated scribblings and, if the fine weather stays with us, I may be waylaid be the lure of well lit hill country next weekend too. Of course, we have what weather actually is coming our way first, but a look on Metcheck reveals signs to be promising. Meanwhile, I'd better be making time for some matters outstanding then. These hints of summer are a big change from what we were having...
Some competition for attention
30th March 2010 Last weekend should have seen me heading off somewhere for a day trip but nothing of the sort happened. Various excuses could be summoned and fatigue following a busy working week certainly would be among them. Then, there's the one that you cannot be away every weekend and that's true too. Still, it would have been nice to have made better use of the fine weather that visited us on Saturday and Sunday, especially with the weather for the forthcoming Easter weekend looking as if it will be as mixed as it is at the moment.
In the middle of all of this, there are a variety of interests competing for my attention. Sunday was taken up with a spot of messing about on a computer. In part, the cause was the resurgence of another interest of mine: cycling. With the bike's back tyre still needing attention to rid it of a (very) slow puncture, a damper should have been put on this but, no, it is threatening to send my brain off into places that are not compatible with adding contributions to what essentially is a hillwalking blog. It was that state of affairs that had me sent off exploring another piece of blogging software called Serendipity (yes, there's nothing wrong with WordPress but there's never any harm in having a look at the competition from time to time) in the name of crafting a cycling blog to complement this thing. While Serendipity itself works well, a few rays of reality fell on the idea and I am minded to consign it to the back burner for now. Saying that, a quick look on Google demonstrated that there might be a place for a cycling blog that revels in the countryside that gets explored. Of course, that also is what I do here so there may be room for including news of the occasional bicycle foray so long as it doesn't the focus of what you find on here.
With a website idea being left to come to maturity in its own good time, my mind again turns to the Easter weekend and any opportunities for restorative escapades. The weather has turned cold gain with blizzards visiting parts of Scotland and whiteness coating parts of Ireland. Here in Cheshire, it is cold rain that we have but that doesn't mean that I am ruling out the chances of an escapade between the showers that seem to be in the current forecast. It's just that I'll need to see how things look later in the weekend before making any plans. That's not to say that there aren't some ideas already in my head such as coastal hikes in Northumberland or Pembrokeshire, a short hop to Arran or, closer to home, a wander along the Peak District moors between Baslow and Hathersage. For any of those to happen, it's a matter of having at least some of the kind of weather that those such places visual justice. It will be a case of waiting, this time around.
A short sortie in snow-streaked hill country
24th March 2010 It's amazing how brainwaves emerge and the one that prompted my weekend visit to Glenmore and Abernethy is a case in point, and it might have been caused by the prevalence of cycling outings since my last walking excursion. What resulted was a hastily planned getaway facilitated by a Caledonian Sleeper journey between Crewe and Aviemore (booking a berth this time around) with an overnight stay in the SYHA Cairngorm Lodge hostel. For all that, it worked out very well in the end, and keeping things simple might have helped towards that end.
Overcast skies were pervasive when I got to Aviemore, but I didn't dally with disappointment at all. One thing that concerned me was that the later-than-usual arrival time because of the need for passengers bound for Fort William to continue their journey from Kingussie by coach due to engineering works. That concern subsided when I boarded my intended bus for Glenmore to make use of the full day ahead of me, one of the advantages of overnight travel.
That day was to be spent poking around a part of the world that I first explored on the last day of my stay in the area last August: Strath Nethy. With that in mind, I picked my way towards the Ryvoan Pass with patches of snow still littering the ground without my need to go that high at all. For safety's sake, I had my Kahtoola Microspikes with me so, while wary of over-exuberance, they gave me a little more confidence when dealing with what lay underfoot. Even so, much of the white stuff that I crossed was of the softer variety rather than its harder and icier counterpart.
To ensure views over well blanketed summits like Cairngorm and Braeriach, I reversed a higher level course to An Lochan Uaine that had me reproaching my wisdom in August until the vistas repaid my efforts. Though the sun was trying to get through any breaks in the cloud cover, conditions weren't so conducive to photography, and I contented myself with a few record shots in case nothing better came the way. That is not to say that there was no tinge of blue appearing, but it was taking its time doing so. It was after An Lochan Uaine that any real brightness began to grace the slopes of Meall a' Bhuachaille.
Leaving the track for Nethy Bridge to take the one going for Strath Nethy took me by the Abernethy Forest National Nature Reserve with the surrounding countryside being eerily reminiscent of what you find around the Rothiemurchus Estate with its mix of lone trees, a heather carpets and a smattering of lochs and lochans. Grouse were making their presence known, and I got to hear the classic "go-back, go-back" call for the first time ever; I have heard grouse before, but never making this sound as clearly as I heard it last Saturday morning. Having left a party of ice axe equipped mountaineers go ahead of me, I could take in the surrounding sights and sounds without worrying about holding up anyone.
Reaching Strath Nethy and the bridge over the river flowing along its floor was marked by a spot of early lunch. There were vague ambitions of reaching Glen Avon and Loch Avon in the back of my mind, but the tempting track shown on the map as following the Nethy on the floor of the glen was anything but appealing on the ground. In fact, it was a boggy mess, punctuated with occasional stretches of stepping stones. Any efforts to make it more passable looked far from concerted, and it's little wonder that the right of way for Glen Avon took a higher route.
In fact, I chose that right of way to get me onto an unnamed hill acting as a long shoulder to Bynack More. It was at this point that I became beset with rain showers, but there were dry respites too. That reminded me of a rain drenched trot over Meall a' Bhuachaille's neighbouring hills last August, albeit with the breaks that allowed so drying time. Snow took over as the main covering underfoot, but it remained largely soft, and I had the Microspikes on in case I needed, and they didn't let me down on one icy patch where I put them to the test.
Gaining height does allow you to resolve geographical counundra and I saw the way to a well snow-enveloped Bynack More and confirmed that it was its neighbour Bynack Beg that I was seeing from the floor of Strath Nethy. The slab-sided Sròn a' Cha-no was another landmark across the same glen, and I think that I spotted a small cornice lining one of its minor side valleys too. While I was concentrating on what was near at hand, the views ranged far and wide too, with those opening up towards Cromdale's hills and those at the back of Aviemore while the showers stayed away.
Satisfied with a pleasing bit of reconnaissance, I left a snow-covered Bynack More for another time and retraced my steps. Glen Avon and Loch Avon were left to wait too, but my patience with the passing showers, though wearing thin, was rewarded eventually with a clearance that was to remain for the rest of my time in the area. One of the advantages of an out and back walk is that views that didn't appear at the best on the outbound trip can look better on the way. So, it was on this occasion and I made the best photos of the surroundings while on my way back to Ryvoan and Glenmore.
After An Lochan Uaine, I stayed with the track headed for Glenmore Lodge, but chose a variation later on. This took me over Abhainn Ruigh-eunachan and around by Allt Mòr before crossing the road that leads to the skiing centre and the funicular railway to head for the shores of Loch Morlich. Seeing sandy beaches by a freshwater loch is unusual, but having it all backed by woodland and snow-covered mountains was something else again. With the accessibility of the loch, there was no way that I was going to have it to myself, and I didn't begrudge anyone out enjoying the sights like me. That's not to say that there aren't quiet corners, and I sought one of them out to see what I could capture with a camera.
With the evening light fading, I made for the hostel to secure my bed for the night in a room named Ord Ban and across from another named Bynack More. It was a reminder of where I had been during the day and that a rest was needed after the way that the day had been spent. An early bedtime followed, a fortunate development given that someone rose at 06:30 the next morning and wasn't being so quiet about it either.
Sunday was never going to be much of an outdoors day, with a journey home to fit into it. Fatigue after the previous day was a factor too, as was the need to sort out a few things before I left Aviemore. Nevertheless, I did fit in an energetic trot from Glenmore to Aviemore by way of the track called the Old Logging Way. Having gone the way before in August, I had memories of the trail that gave a reassuring sense of progress as I was walking. The day was starting out like the one before, with grey skies letting some sunshine through and displaying vague signs of blue colouration. With few distractions, I got into a walking rhythm that made good use of any downhill sections (that there were plenty of these may go some way to explaining why snow was never that far away) to complete the five-mile distance in under two hours. There were patches of snow and ice along the route, but none of these were unmanageable, and it wasn't overly busy either, though I did encounter the occasional cyclist and jogger.
As if to give me a good send off after a fleeting visit, clouds had broken to reveal blue streaks in the sky by the time that I got to Aviemore. The hills underneath which I had slept looked resplendent in the distance as the sun got more opportunity to work its magic as the day grew older. The journey to Glasgow allowed more chances for admiring any hill country that caught the sun before I continued south again from there. All of this has me pondering an Easter escape. Of course, this is dependent on weather and other circumstances, but the mind is starting to wander, and who knows what brainwaves might be unleashed?
Travel arrangements:
Service 38 from Macclesfield to Crewe, ScotRail Caledonian Sleeper from Crewe to Aviemore and service 34 from Aviemore to Glenmore got me to the start of the walk. A railway journey conveyed me home from Aviemore with changes in Glasgow, Preston and Manchester.
A weekend among the Cairngorms
22nd March 2010 It was the feeling of a developing rut that triggered it and a ride on the Caledonian Sleeper that got me there but, if that was what was needed to get me out among snow streaked hills and under snow blanketed summits, then it did the job well. Though I met with hefty (rain) showers in the middle of the day on Saturday, I am inclined to think that I might have gone where drier weather was more plentiful. After two postings regarding cycling, it was time that some walking ones made their appearance on here, and there was a good deal of that before I came south again. As luck would have it, the bike now has a puncture, so that needs a repair. Serves me right for taking a shortcut through the woods on the way home on Friday. As seems to be my wont with these things, more is to follow and, hopefully, I'll avoid my near habitual dallying with this one.
Looking in on a (quite) different world
19th March 2010 St. Patrick's Day was a few days ago and it seems to have heralded a sustained onset of spring this year with birds singing their hearts out and daffodils attempting to take over from snowdrops on the roadsides. A work colleague took to his bike for the first time this year on Monday after having being prevented from doing so by his asthma acting up when his lungs are hit by the cold air that has stayed with us for so much of this year. Needless to say, it's his legs that are now making him pay for his exertions after that long layoff.
Speaking of layoffs, I haven't been out walking in hill country for a while now and the general springiness has set me to considering the possibility of such an escapade. That hiatus doesn't mean that I have been inactive because I have been commuting on my bike for much of the last few weeks and even fitted in a Sunday ride to Northwich by way of Gawsworth, Astbury, Goostrey and Davenham. Much of the time, I was on quiet country lanes while following NCN 73 after a fashion so I got to enjoying the sunlit ambience of the rolling Cheshire countryside. A missed train (it might have been asking too much of me to cycle back from Northwich to Macclesfield again) afforded a chance to find my way around the town of Northwich itself, a potential source of confusion for anyone who hadn't been there before, before exploring a little of its nearby wetlands and woodlands. One of the disadvantages of a cycling excursion is that you are sharing roads with other users who travel much faster than you do and have other things on their minds too. Fellow cyclists are not a problem at all but you need to keep your wits about you when it comes to motorised traffic.
While cycling along quieter country lanes does burn off tensions piled on you by the world, there is something special about going for a walk in the countryside that makes switching off the pressures of life and tuning on the theatre of the skull so much easier. For much of the time, it's only the matters of navigation, weather and the time that is available that you need to consider. Since most of us don't fancy road walking and tend to avoid it, motorised traffic becomes removed to a world far away while we really are immersed in remote countryside.
That mention of road traffic brings up another point: discovering route ideas for a day out on a bike that keep you away from busy roads as much as possible. In these traffic congested days, they take some finding and, even then, you could find yourself on a confusing rat's nest of small roads that forbid you from going into autopilot (not that it's a sensible thing to be doing, by the way). In the brief amount of time that I have spent perusing cycling magazines at a newsagent, none really have grabbed me when it came to route ideas. Whether that is because the ones that kept coming to hand contained more about mechanicals and other matters that didn't interest me so much is another question; even with hillwalking, outdoors gear is very much a functional interest for me and I very nearly stop looking when what I have satisfies me. That's not to say that there aren't guide books out there and I already have a few that I should consult more often but it feels as if I could end up with an entire cycling library if I'm not careful.
Thinking about it now, I am inclined to wonder if I need to work out what sort of cycling I'd like to do. Pure mountain biking might sound as if it tallies with my love of hill country but I cannot say that I enjoy the thoughts of careering downhill completely dependent on the effectiveness of cantilever or disk brakes for stopping me. That still leaves open the idea of a cycle into a Scottish glen for commencing a walk but a walking magazine might cover that possibility anyway; whatever else you have to say about it, Trail magazine has been known to feature the occasional route like this. Leaving that aside, I am led into the exploration of those quiet lanes and the countryside that surrounds them. Of course, I first have to find them...
Even with this uncertainty of thinking, I went and joined the Cycling UK, an organisation pondering changing its status from club to charity. With what has been going on with The Ramblers and the forthcoming demise of the Nevis Partnership, I can see how arguments about the CTC Trust being a government contractor can come into being. However, that's all in the background and the bimonthly Cycle magazine might have a role in letting me in on ideas for excursions and where I want to take this cycling thing. Naturally, any organisation representing cyclists will cover everything from the realities of everyday commuting though to cycle touring and bicycle maintenance but a little broadening of horizons never hurt anyone.
Of course, all this talk of cycling doesn't mean that the hiking is about to stop. In fact, I have just such an excursion in mind for the coming weekend to break up any semblance of a rut that might be forming. For now, I'll say no more but hope to let you know what happened afterwards.
