Outdoor Discoveries

An Irish Year

Changes that I am making to matters in Ireland were the cause of my spending a lot of time there this past year. That also meant that I really got to see more of the place than ever before. That was just as well for two reasons. One is that my explorations of Irish hill country have been more limited than I fancied. The other is that the pandemic had grounded me for 2020 and 2021. Being over there a lot allowed me to get more courageous again. There is further to go, but this start was useful compared to where I was earlier in the year.

The nerves applied during various trots starting and ending in Marsden during the spring, so some movement was needed. A day trip to Dublin got me started on flying again. After that, there was a hotel stay in Limerick that allowed me to sample the delights of Adare, the Limerick Greenway, the Lough Derg Way, the Slieve Felim Mountains, Killarney and around Lough Derg. Much of this was in unexpected sunshine, and some was inspired by what I saw from my hotel room as well.

A getaway from jubilee celebrations returned my Ireland. This time, my base was Tralee and I got some wet weather as well. Even so, any sunny interludes got used when other matters allowed. A hike along the Dingle Way from Tralee to Camp was one such beneficiary, as was a circular walk featuring Dingle and Ventry. An amble along part of the North Kerry Way also saw dry weather before something inclement arrived in for the evening time. That affected a second trip to Killarney as much as the presence of a bikers’ festival in the town. The weather also affected a hike from Dingle to Anascaul that might have seen me wander up to the Conor Pass if there were better views up there.

The Lake District got some attention for the first time in some years as well. One trip featured both Lingmoor Fell and Loughrigg Fell on a walk that attended to a photographic need as much as using up an idea that had lain in my mind for a few years. That was followed by a reprise of the Fairfield horseshoe, along with an ascent of Helvellyn. All of these enjoyed warm sunshine that allowed many photos to be made.

The same could be said for the major holiday trip of the year, for that took me to Ireland again. Killarney and Cork were the bases for this one. The former allowed me to frequent parts that I had not surveyed for nearly thirty years. There was one all-day stroll that took me around Knockreer Park, Ross Island and Muckross Lake. This was followed by a hike from Kenmare to Killarney that used past of the Kerry Way, with a diversion to the top of Torc Mountain. The Kerry Way also had a part to play in a serendipitous walk that took in the Gap of Dunloe, the Black Valley and the Upper Lake. These were followed by trips to Bantry, Whiddy Island, the Knockmealdown Mountains, Kinsale and Cobh as the weather continued to warm.

There was a return to Scotland too, though luck with the weather was such that a return trip is in mind. Staying in Stirling again would allow the Ochil Hills and Ben Ledi to be revisited. That awaits longer hours of daylight and a favourable weather window. The two trips that I have had already whetted my appetite for a part of Scotland that I either overlooked or surveyed twenty years before.

There was one trip to the Welsh hills too. This took me to the Ogwen Valley for a dramatic day that saw me go over Glyder Fach and Glyder Fawr. Eroded slopes were the cause of some adverse comment, but this was a warm, sunny day that offered much. Any plans for descending to Pen y Pass and Llanberis were rejected for time and transportation reasons. Assessing one’s progress often needs a change of route, not that it mattered in this case.

The last Irish trip did not allow more hill wanderings. Time was short, the weather was unfavourable, and other matters needed attention anyway. It was not as if a lot of satisfaction had been given, so I was not put off by this. The temptation might have been unwanted anyway.

The rest of the year saw me grow increasing tired, mostly because of lack of progress with the things that I need to get done. They are spilling into 2023, but that is another year. It remains to be seen how that will go, but trips to Galway and Clare as well as other parts of Europe and North America entice. Only time will tell how things proceed.

Grey at the start and at the end, lots of brightness otherwise

The trouble with trip reports is that they can descend to being a direct factful recollection of a route followed on a day hike. That may explain partly why I have been tardy with sharing these, but the lockdown period of the pandemic has had its impact as well. Sometimes, it works best to leave things a while so that their associated emotional intensity wanes. The vantage point at the time of writing matters too; when there is nothing much happening in one’s life, it can result in uninspired scribblings.

This is being written in a time of tumult, when looking back on the past can offer a brief diversion from a life beset by strikes, wars, ongoing works and increasing costs of living. Public transport is not as dependable as it once was, so getting into the countryside now involves a mix of patience and creativity, unless you have your own transport. In fact, many will rely only on their own resources when others appear to be letting them down.

When I went to Shropshire in February 2018, none of this lay in my mind. Then, I was on a career break and contemplating my next career moves. This was a matter of rest, healing and reflection after a few years of upheaval, bereavement and legal works that wore me out more than I had realised. Only later did I learn how caffeine consumption covers up a lot of this weariness.

The prospects for a sunny day out did not look good when I arrived in Church Stretton. Skies were grey and gloomy, and there was a hint of drizzle in the air. None of this deflected me from heading for Carding Mill Valley, and my first encounter with this part of Shropshire may have been on a grey, cold December Sunday, assuming that my memory is not failing me.

Shropshire’s hills may be low in stature, but many of the ascents and descents are steep and joint-testing. Thus, there was quite a pull to get into the Carding Mill Valley, and it got tougher on the way up Mott’s Road. This did nothing to deter others who were going the same way, persisting as I was.

In time, gradients eased and people peeled off on my going onto a bridleway leading me towards the Port Way. Instead of continuing on towards Woolstaston, I turned left towards the Betchcott Hills. Around there, clouds broke overhead to give more hope for the rest of the day. Clouds were still going to obstruct the sun at times, but there were photographic opportunities to come too.

Farm tracks were what was going to convey me across the Betchcott Hills to Wilderley Hill. Until there, navigation was a simple affair. Near Thresholds, things became a bit less clear, so my route finding was not as smooth as I might have liked on someone else’s land. The size of the field meant that it probably was ideal for map and compass work, but I found my way without any untoward encounter or any exchange of cross words.

After becoming more confident about where I was going around Cothercott Hill, views of the Stiperstones opened up before me. There was a catch though because there was a stiff descent down to the road near New Leasowes Farm. Some of the going was muddy, too, especially as I neared the road. From there, I went around by Leasowes Bank Farm by byroad and farm track until I met with another lane.

While I fancied cutting the amount of road walking by following a right of way that lead through Hollies Farm, this did not look like such a friendly option even if it was part of the Shropshire Way. Going through farmyards never appeals that much to me anyway, so I opted to walk the quiet road instead while marvelling at how many larger vehicles were travelling along the one linking Stedment and Stiperstones. The surrounding countryside appealed to me too, which lessened the length of the journey for me.

Near Stedment, I turned right to close in on the Stiperstones ridge. On the final approaches to that turning, I noted how old my paper map was. There was an entire farmyard missing from it, so it was time for a replacement. Given that I was backed up by the Ordnance Survey app on my phone, there was no chance of a wrong turn based on old information. A new paper map was acquired soon afterwards.

Gaining height meant opening up more views of what lay about me. If there was more traffic on the road crossing the Stiperstones than what I saw earlier, it largely is lost to my recollection now. What I do remember is seeing a tractor being used to put out winter feeding to otherwise grazing sheep. Seeing the size of it caused me to remark to myself how large tractors had become these days compared to what they were when I was growing up on an Irish dairy farm.

Since it was half-term time and I may have seen more people about because of that, I chose to overshoot the obvious way up to the top of the Stiperstones ridge in favour of a quieter approach. That meant that a father could ask me about a good way up there for kids with trainers. As I often find myself doing, the answer included perhaps vaguer directions than I might have liked to give. The way that I was going might have been one suggestion, but I directed them to where I had deliberately overshot. In any case, I was not seeking company and my line may have been too muddy for them anyway. Not everyone goes out in the countryside equipped for what they can meet; there was a car park and visitor centre not far away, which explains the encounter we had.

My way towards Manstone Rock was the quieter one, and I relished both that and the well sunlit views that going that way offered. In time, I was to join the main track, which was surfaced in a better way for trainer travel, so my instincts had been the rights for that family who I met earlier. The surface may have uneven, but it was not muddy like what I had traipsed. These rocky outcrops probably fascinate kids anyway, since many would clamber onto them. That certainly was what was happening to one concerned mother who was having her patience tested by her boisterous boys around the trig point on Manstone Rock. Quite why Ordnance Survey surveyors placed the trig point upon such a difficult to reach site is beyond me. What is equally beyond my understanding is how they got their heavy equipment onto the thing afterwards. The sighting of these things can amaze.

My own desire was to get back a sense of grater calm. Beyond the Devil’s Chair, that really proved to be the case, and I relished this in the late evening sunshine. However, I did not get it all to myself on the way to Snailbeach. Still, I managed to get myself as much solitude as I could by veering away from my preferred route, and the final descent was a steep one.

My heart sinks a little whenever I see a large rambling group out on perambulations. They take up a lot of space if anyone needs to pass them, and I wonder just how present one can be in a scenic spot when chatting with others, as they often do. It also prompts the following question in my mind: can groups like these just get too big to be in the countryside? We are social animals, though, so I can see the attraction this holds for many, and they are often friendly to more solitary creatures like me.

Once I reached Snailbeach, I saw the minibus that was awaiting them, for this was an organised outing. They reached it while I was awaiting my bus to Shrewsbury, and one said to me that they thought I knew my way down. In reality, I only was finding my way on the go, as it is with so many things in life. They left before I did, and I then wondered if my bus would show up, or if I would need to consider later alternatives, possibly from elsewhere. As I continued my vigil, rain arrived, but this was no dampener on my spirits given the day that I had enjoyed. The bus came too, and I started on my return home after a very satisfying outing.

Travel Arrangements

Train journey from Macclesfield to Church Stretton. Bus service 552 or 553 from Snailbeach to Shrewsbury, followed by a train journey from there to Macclesfield. Doing this walk on a Saturday, like I did, now needs a route reversal since later departures from Snailbeach have been removed from the timetable.

Tops

While I am not really focused on bagging summits of hills, a good number of them have featured on hikes this year. If conditions are clear, it often can be surprising how much of the surrounding countryside you can see from a lofty vantage point. Admittedly, some work better than others but it has been a noticeable trend and it is about the height above the neighbouring landscape rather than the actual height above sea level that matters.

That point has been proven on some trips to Ireland too. In April, I happened on the top of Feenlea Mountain near Killaloe in County Clare only to be stunned by the expanse of Lough Derg that lay below me with the nearby Arra Mountains in County Tipperary drawing my attention too. It helped that the morning was sunny and there are times when you need to try again with better conditions.

That was the case with Torc Mountain near Killarney in County Kerry. My first summit ascent was in poor visibility and only got done for the sake of personal satisfaction while the second was a diversion from the route of the Kerry Way that I was following from Kenmare to Killarney. Though sunshine was limited by cloud cover at that stage of the day and my legs were weary, the rewards were unmistakable; an American that I met on my way was awestruck by it all. The lakes of Killarney (Upper Lake, Muckross Lake and Lough Leane) lay below me and eastward views led my eyes as far as Lough Guitane and the hills that lay around it.

My encounter with Knockclugga in the Knockmealdown Mountains near Clogheen in County Tipperary was another case in point. While being surrounded by hills can limit what can be seen, this was no drawback on this rounded top. To the north, there were the Galtee Mountains while fellow hills like Knockshanahullion, Sugarloaf Hill and Knockmealdown brought scenic interest while the Comeragh Mountains lay to the east of everything mentioned so far.

None of the above hills is particularly high so it is their sitting that matters but I do not limit myself to those lower hills and trips to the Lake District have been a case in point. That did start with lower tops like Lingmoor Fell and Loughrigg Fell with the former allowing sightings around Great Langdale and Little Langdale while the former facilitated some photography capturing scenes around Grasmere that had been on my wishlist longer than might have been wise.

Greater heights were walked on the Fairfield Horseshoe and that included other tops like Heron Pike, Great Rigg, Hart Crag, Dove Crag, High Pike and Low Pike in addition to Fairfield itself. There were ample views of Grisedlae Hause, Grisedale Tarn, Helvellyn, St. Sunday Crag and Patterdale to occupy the time and the available if warm sunshine added greatly to the experience. One walk often begets another and so it proved in this case.

While part of the inspiration was provided by Terry Abraham’s feature film on Helvellyn, the reminder came from the Fairfield Horseshoe. Having some free time in July might have allowed the trot to happen earlier but for uncooperative weather, rail strikes, the prospect of a then-forthcoming trip to Ireland and my not having thought of using Carlisle as a base. The latter was to enable the escapade and get around rail travel constraints so I got to Glenridding and chose a route that avoided both Striding Edge and Swirral Edge to contain any sense of exposure. That may have limited my sightings of Red Tarn but I was glad of the gentler way via White Side and Lower Man. There was a punishing descent to Thirlmere but any sightings of Catstye Cam, Ullswater, Skiddaw, Blencathra, Thirlmere and other landscape features made it all worthwhile.

That was followed by a Scottish incursion that did not enjoy the same kind of weather. Ben Ledi near Callander stayed largely clear on a day with cloud-filled skies that limited any sunshine but the views round about it inspire thoughts of returning. There was an associated hike around the Ochil Hills with limited visibility and pervasive dampness that adds even more impetus to the idea of returning when better conditions are in prospect. Tops can be clear and they can be clouded so it is the former that we all seek. Nevertheless, having gained so much from hilltops this year means that there is much for which to be grateful.

Tweakage

Eventually, my ongoing attention to website appearances was going to include what you find here. The changes have been evolutionary and updated some underlying technologies as well. There has been simplification too as well as some rethinking of what should be in the different sections.

All the images in the photo gallery are now the same size and many film photos were rescanned. Some have been replaced with digital ones and the prospect of doing so was the cause of some added trip ideation. In part, the wanderings around Calderdale, Marsden and Hadfield were inspired by this and day trips to Dublin and the Lake District also aided the effort. Some photos were removed without the prospect of any replacement too. Sometimes, images can feature subjects that no longer inspire or have been added when photo albums acted as components of trip reports, things that now appear on this blog. Times change and so do we.

As I was doing all this, knowledge of the happenings in Ukraine hit hard since global wanderings feel more plausible in the absence of global strife. That feeling has eased now and several trips to Ireland have happened. These took me to places new and old. The former of these included Lough Derg, the Slive Felim hills and the Clare Glens while the latter included Killarney and parts of West Limerick like Adare. More may follow yet.

A Marsden project

This past spring has been a busy time for walking in areas of hill country and growing boredom with what is near me in Cheshire and Derbyshire after traipsing around various places repeatedly during the constrained times of the pandemic led me to look elsewhere and Marsden caught my attention again after around fifteen years of not venturing near the place.

First up was a trot from Marsden to Hadfield that retraced steps not taken since 2002 when I was only starting hill wandering and a dull day heavily limited photographic efforts even if it brightened up near the end of the day. The reprise saw brighter sunnier weather albeit with a bracing aspect in the form of a stiff chilling easterly wind. Even so, I enjoyed my stroll along the Kirklees Way as it rounded Wessenden Moor and passed numerous reservoirs. Eventually, I passed onto the Pennine Way that conveyed me across the A635, over Black Hill and down into Longdendale. There was an intrusion in the form of an American hiker with two dogs who asked for a photo while my mouth was full of food but that passed and it was the edge above Crowden Great Brook that really held my attention.

On Holy Thursday in 2007, I headed north from Marsden to Littleborough as part of an ongoing Pennine Way project but low cloud intruded on the start of that walk so photos were limited. That made a partial reprise of that hike a possibility so I started from Todmorden on a southbound hike to capture what I had missed. Ultimately, I overdid it and arrived in Marsden in darkness so the compensation had not been gained and it took several returns to the area before photographic possibilities were largely consummated. Still, Calderdale and its nearby moors were kind to me even if their popularity slowed me down at times. From Blackstone Edge, things were much quieter but the day was moving on as I made the most of the available light. Even so, my sightings of the Castleshaw reservoirs left me in doubt as to my misremembrance enforced tardiness. More was to come in my sightings of Pule Hill and Holme Moor in very much faded light. That was to apply to Redbrook, Black Moss and Swellands reservoirs as well so thoughts of a return were forced into my mind. Eventually light failed and I decided against a steep descent on not finding the path so I went another way that got me to Wessenden Reservoir after an improvised crossing in the absence. Still, the waterfall looked appealing in the night light and it was now easy strolling back into Marsden in the quietude of the time of day. That did nothing to remediate my mixing up train times so I had a much-delayed train journey back to Macclesfield with a tight connection in Manchester that was aided by the last train to Macclesfield being late. That was just as well since there should have been another but for there being a shortage of train drivers at the time. The day had been eventful and I am not just talking about a momentary standoff with a cyclist around Calderdale either; they seem to be getting everywhere but that is another subject.

While the stage was set for several returns, the weather was not playing ball when I needed it to do just that. Still, I returned to Marsden in hope. Things looked promising as I headed out of Marden along Waters Road. My good fortune persisted as I continued along the track by Willykay Clough. Unfortunately, it was not to last and I lost out when I was wanting the cloud cover to stay away. There also was a biting wind from a northerly direction but that did nothing to keep away the numerous hill runners who were out and about. They went another way so all was quieter again but the sun was in hiding. Scrambler bikes were heard and I wondered what the point of their short rides was with their turning back at a pass to avoid being spotted. To me, it looked a little cheeky and I continued on my way on a day full of compensations. One was finding that path that I missed on the previous hike and I was glad that I had not tried it in the dark even if I had a head torch (there has been a scary moment when one did not fall to hand but all was well). The could cover had broken by this point and it have been understandable if I had been wondering at my impatience but the cold would have explained that. By the time that I got back to Marsden, many were outside enjoying what by then was feeling like a warm summer’s day. For me, it was back to the train station for a more timely return home.

Even with the same midday prediction of trouble with cloud cover as the previous encounter with the area, I persisted with another Marsden to Hadfield walking idea. There were variations from where OI had gone on previous trots that the walked started similarly to its predecessor. It took a map enquiry from another walker to highlight my slow progress in adjusting to a post-COVID world and I reproached myself for being unforthcoming but I had a long way to go and an appointment with hope. There were bright spots and I made images of the Castleshaw reservoirs that advanced on what went before. The same could be said about Pule Hill and its surroundings because the aftermaths of hail showers bring their recompenses. Other places brought a bit more photographic joy too and a bit of National Trust work made the way to the A635 much easier. Beyond that, navigation and bog trotting became more challenging so getting to Black Hill was slow work. Once there, I did not delay and started the descent to Longdendale by a gentler moorland route that left me with a longer walk to Hadfield and its train station. Even so, the gentle quietude of what is now a heavily industrialised valley laden with reservoirs and pylons prevailed and other walkers shared words with me. Daylight was in short supply as I neared Hadfield but it held long enough for me not to need a head torch. The day had been long and tiring but there was a lot to savour.

Eventually, there was resolution and near-complete closure. The last Friday of April came free and the weather remained sunny all day so another attempt was made. In many ways, this was a reprise of the third Marsden trip of the year, albeit with many deviations. It also saw me take my time in many ways. The route took me away from Waters Road and around by March Haigh Reservoir before I retraced old steps. Heat haze may have affected views over the Castleshaw reservoirs but what I go was as good as I needed it to be so I was sated. Brun Clough Reservoir saw a visit and I got over the wire fence to rejoin the Pennine Way because my patience did not extend to finding the stile and I often wonder how entry points to access land get so rationed. That made no impact on my mood as I attended to my photographic objectives. Various reservoirs were ticked off a list that also included Wessenden Reservoir and I crossed some rough ground using my access rights so as to avoid retracing steps. There even was an ascent of Pule Hill so this was a day that was working for me and the evening light was attractive as I returned to Marsden to start my train journey back to Macclesfield. it was now time to look to other places because the moors around Marsden may have seen times when things did not work out for me but they also kept me engaged in so many other ways as well.