Category: Countryside & Environment
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...
Going out with a bang
1st April 2010 March should start like a lion and leave like a lamb but it seems to have got that script wrong this year. You only have to hear the stories of trains being marooned in snow drifts to be reminded of the same sort of thing happening at the end of February. In its own way, it places into sharp relief the journey that I made to Aviemore a few weeks back. Then, snow seemed to be on the retreat though I was armed with my Kahtoola Microspikes in case I met anything harder than soft snow. Now, it seems that has been well replenished just in time for the Easter weekend. Of course, there's the ever present threat of avalanches (I took a quick peek at the Scottish Avalanche Information Service website and there is high risk up high in many of the hills up there) and the matter of travel too. Both of these matters are reminders of that coach crash tragedy in the south of Scotland and thoughts are the only things that I can offer to those affected.
A decade ago, the mention of the sort of conditions that have visited us more often than usual this winter would have sent anyone to their memory banks to see when they last happened. A few years back, I remember sitting in the Bridge of Orchy hotel enjoying an evening meal after a walk south along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe. What really struck me were all the photos of severe winter conditions of the sort that visited Scotland at the end of March and of February. They dated back to the 1980's and you would have been forgiven for thinking that those would never recur with the green winters that we were having and the prevailing debate on global warming. On a separate occasion, I was staying in Kettlewell and overheard a conversation at breakfast about sheep farming in much harder winters than the ones that were coming our way at that time. All the stories of deep snow covering were very far away in time and my upbringing in a more temperate maritime climate might have had something to do with it too.
In time, the wintry conditions that ended 2009 and stayed with us for so much of 2010 will be found in the same memory area as those in the 1980's and the 1960's. It is a reminder that, even with rising global temperatures (a contentious subject for some and one whose complexity is made all the more apparent when we get colder winters), we aren't going to be denied extreme winter like what came upon Scotland this week. With the milder winters that started the century, you might be forgiven for thinking that they were the start of a pattern but I have come to the conclusion that they were part of a one (El Niño and all that) that mixes mild and arctic as time goes on. We might know more about climate than we did but times like these are a reminder that there's always more to learn.
Here in Macclesfield, it isn't warm but we have no snow. Currently, it is drying up after a wintry shower that was more of rain than anything else. That's not to say that it mightn't have been sleety snow because I have been out in one of those week. April is noted for a mixture sun and showers and it cannot be said that it isn't living up to that stereotype. In fact, a quick look at the synoptic charts on the MWIS website confirm that Easter will be accompanied by a steady queue of low pressure areas. Let's see what can be done with it.
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.
A little white surprise
31st January 2010 This morning, I got up and peered out my window not to see sunshine but falling snow instead. After that prolonged cold spell earlier in the month, I'd thought that we'd to wait a while before seeing another white covering and that was even with light snow showers being forecast. Even so, I wasn't expecting much to come of them if anything at all and that made the snowy spell that we got a even bigger surprise. In the event, it was sufficiently heavy to leave quite an accumulation on the ground. Not having subsequent falls left that white covering vulnerable to trampling into slush and roads began to hold standing water. Thoughts of what happens when slush freezes was the cause of my going clearing the pavement outside my house in the afternoon and some of what I was removing was partially frozen by the time that I got to it!
With the clearing skies and emerging sun, I was lured into taking the bike out for short run around by Prestbury. That roads that I used were clear so there was little change of I coming off in an inappropriate place. Though the late afternoon light was fading, I still got to testing what a spot of photographic activity would produce; at time of writing, I have not had a good look at the results just yet.
That cycling wasn't the only burst of outdoor activity this weekend with yesterday taking me up to Cumbria. More specifically, I ended up opting for a circular walk that took in Place Fell in Patterdale. The outing may have left me with aching legs but that's a small price to pay for the delights that were enjoyed. Beyond that, I won't say any more for now but that a full account is to follow.
All in all, January is ending on a high note and could be month that many will remember for those spells of colder weather that brought us both delights and disturbances. February looks to be getting going with an Atlantic run of weather so anyone who enjoyed this weekend might be very glad of it. Of course, wet weather never goes on forever so something more attractive should come to draw us out in the open from time to time and we are in 2010's early days yet.
Now that an arctic visitor has departed
22nd January 2010 One night last week, after I had tired of trying to break up ice on the footway outside my house, I finally got to watch my copy of the BMC's Winter Skills DVD. That act may have brought a wealth of information my way but I have no intention of launching a full-scale incursion into hill country whenever weather like that which we had for the last month arrives. What I am planning to do with the information is to use it as a stepping stone to more learning experiences. Knowing the basics regarding crampon and ice axe usage along with a smattering of avalanche and winter navigation awareness is only ever a beginning. While winter hillwalking is my interest, there was climbing content in there too but I'll give that possibility a miss with my head for heights not being what it might be.
In among all the expected winter skills stuff was a discussion of winter weather trends. The DVD was made a few years back and the winters at the start of the century were of the milder variety. With the wider awareness of global warming, some of us were beginning to think that cold winter weather, like what we had recently, was set to become a memory. At this point, I have to say that included me, but these things now look cyclical after the last few winters having longer spells of snowy weather and it appears that it has been like that for a while. There was a mention of the green winters of the 1950's and they were followed by much colder ones in the early years of the next decade. This was all before my time but I do remember cold snaps during the winters of the 1980's with my being unable to get to school for the most of a month one winter and the water to my parent's house being frozen for a similar length of time during another. The last decade of the twentieth century wasn't one with much in the way of snowy winters if I recall correctly and I was living in Edinburgh at the time.
It seems that every time that hefty snowfall visits us, travel chaos results and a whole cacophony of media comment ensues. That may amaze those from places that have cold weather every year such as Montreal or Berlin, but the maritime climate of Britain and Ireland must mean that we see such things less frequently anyway. Not only does that mean that it is difficult to justify investing in measures to deal with the sorts of conditions that prevailed from last year into this one but it must also mean that we are not so practised when it comes to dealing with them either. This thinking also sets me to asking question of my own skills and experience. Spending my early years in the milder rain-soaked part of the world that is the south-west of Ireland would mean that I wouldn't get to sample as much of the white stuff as others do elsewhere. One consequence of that is that I only recently took a bicycle for a spin on snow, an act that taught me the importance of maintaining good contact between the tyres and the road through any skids were arrested by planting a Hedgehog-shod foot squarely on the ground.
In a way, I suppose that what we got was a rare experience for many of us. An Irish television meteorologist was heard to opine on air that a retreat to the record books was to see how the length of the cold spell was compared with previous forbears. In Britain, many were cut off by a covering of several feet of snow with an excursion for a Christmas turkey in the far north of Scotland taking a month longer than expected. The hills of Cheshire and Derbyshire were so plastered with snow that many were cut off by closed roads and I know a few of them. In the middle of all this, I got to read Joe Cornish's experiences of walking in deep snow in the Lairig Ghru without skis or snowshoes. Whatever I may have made of his exploits, his latest book, Scotland's Mountains, is well worth a look and the images in there amaze me with their lighting and sharpness. My own attempts are pale reflections in comparison. All of this was causing the usual questions regarding personal preparedness to bubble up in my mind.
It wouldn't be the first time because I penned an entry on the subject over a year ago after another snowy visitation and recycling of content is not really my style if I can help it. This winter's arctic episode, it was on with a semi-retired pair of Scarpa boots for getting to and from work, a job that they did with aplomb until everywhere became icy. Before that point, I made good use of what lay on the ground for confidence building and I am not just talking about a certain pre-Christmas constitutional. Well, there was a lunchtime amble about Nether Alderley and that piece of reconnaissance that took me to Buxton and Bakewell, both in the first full week of the year. It was because the snow on the pavement outside my house had become packed and even turned to ice that I was out with that spade.
Now that I have come to thinking of ice, I am minded to add a set of Kahtoola Microspikes to my gear collection because snow usually doesn't stay long and the customary icy aftermath is always both a danger and a nuisance. In fact, they even might come in handy for low-level trips in hill country too; I feel the need to add to my experience of snow-covered terrain but without rashly putting myself in the way of danger. On the same subject, there's also Icebugs's Trail BUGweb with steel carbide studs for gripping on ice and they do footwear with the same type of thing integrated into their soles, an interesting innovation though I see it having more use in their home country of Sweden.
It's all very fine talking about walking on level ground, but uphill gradients are another matter. It's then that the sight of ice really does concentrate the mind like it did when I went exploring the Howgills near the end of 2008. After all, you don't want to slip and end up careering downhill towards a stone wall or worse. Though noting the amount of effort expended in travelling over about a foot of snow played a part in my rethinking of plans on that outing, it was the ice lower down that really constrained my upland wandering. Walks over some hills between Buxton and Macclesfield when snow lay underfoot haven't troubled me as much, but that may be down to local knowledge and experience as much as anything else. However, on the whole, I think that a certain glimmer of confidence is creeping upon me with regard to winter conditions. The acquisition of an ice axe is being pondered though I don't intend going beyond the softer snow of lower reaches for now. That isn't going to make the ideas of having an appropriate boot/crampon combination go away or do the same with the idea of getting in some training. The recent conditions may have added to my level of experience and that DVD supplied me with additional information, but there's a good way to go yet. Quite how the desired experience is going to accumulate is a journey whose course is as yet unknown.
