Category: Ireland
Into a sixth…
1st January 2011 After the passing of 2010, my only wish is that 2011 brings you and yours good things. The past year saw me distracted by a change of job in the middle of it, and I think that it may have reduced my output on here. However, after catching up with a few issues of TGO recently, I have come to thinking that I need to keep reading more from the outdoors media because my perusal certainly popped a few ideas into my head for the coming year. What's needed now is to make something of the few flakes that are littering my brain at the moment.
The recent arctic conditions may have made my Christmas travelling more adventure-filled than I'd intended, yet it also brought me an afternoon spent pottering around the hills beside Glossop gain. There is the seed of a post arising from that little outing, but I also got to see how Lindow Common and the Bollin Valley look with clumps of snow stuck to everything around them too. Then, there were trots around rural Limerick in Ireland to savour what are rare conditions for the south-west of Ireland. It might be that one posting would suffice to collect my experiences of those little tasters of a whitened world.
Though I also am playing with the idea of a local wander before returning to work on Monday, there also are designs on a quick sortie by Caledonian Sleeper to see what's left of any snowy coverings in the Scottish Highlands. That's something with which I have been playing for a while, but it'll be a little look rather than a deep incursion. It remains to be seen if I can make anything of it.
Other brainwaves for the year include a longer sojourn in an area new to me (and perhaps others) that resulted in a number of postings that I can share on here. Firm ideas are few and far between for now, but I did concoct a scheme centred on Mallaig that has me going out to the Small Isles. Maybe visiting Islay and Jura might be other propositions. Then, there's always the call of my native Éire for a fuller hill country excursion to follow up my nibble of the Wicklow Mountains, nearly two years ago now.
Regarding smaller forays, there are hills around Keswick that I'd like to explore too after a few years of struggling to find a reason to go back there. That has come from the TGO writings of others, and I am thankful for them too. Looking through old photos has brought thoughts of trying to better them, and that could see me exploring Derbyshire a bit more too.
It's all very well making designs for a whole year when it can surprise you in a way that you cannot expect, but not having the ideas at all will lead to torpor like what I felt towards the end of 2010. That is something that I'd like not to see happening again. Let's hope that all of us manage to get in some quality hill time over the coming year, even if life has a habit of getting in the way from time to time.
An alternative choice
1st August 2010 Today, I was in a shop when I overheard someone moaning about the less than exciting weather that has been with us for much of July. Many have very optimistic hopes for the summertime so that sense of frustration was understandable. It's why it's best to spread those aspirations around the year instead. Nevertheless, some spouts of sun this evening added some cheer and there may be a window of better weather latter in the week to break up things.
Maybe I should have made better use of the dry though grey day but I ended up doing some clearance at home instead. It was that activity that caused me to come across a map that I bought in Dublin in May. Surveying outdoors blogs can leave you with an impression that some have a soft spot for certain types of outdoors equipment. For on, it's stoves and another does footwear. For me, it seems to be maps, probably because they are so good at opening up any location awaiting exploration.
The map in question was produced by an alternative producer of Irish Maps, EastWest Mapping. For a while now, they have produced maps for Walking World Ireland to accompany pieces on walking routes in the island of Ireland. There was a time when they sold all sorts of outdoor maps and guides, including OSi and Harvey maps, but that seems to be over now. Nowadays, they use their website to sell only their own wares instead of those from others.
So far, those include three maps for the Dublin and Wicklow Mountains along with map guides for the Wicklow Way and the Táin Way, a circular trail starting and ending Carlingford on the Cooley Peninsula in County Louth (incidentally and perhaps ironically given it features in a Celtic myth regarding cattle rustling, it was the only part of Éire affected in the 2001 Foot and Mouth Disease outbreak; the disease was not allowed to spread any further). All can be ordered over the web and payment is by using PayPal. Regarding the maps for the Dublin and Wicklow Mountains, they are divided to cover the following areas: Dublin & North Wicklow Mountains, Lugnaquila & Glendalough, West Wicklow Mountains. There is another in the offing to complete the quartet and that will be for the eastern Wicklow Mountains. Currently, it is possible to by three of the intended four as a set from the website though that should become a quartet when the final map is released early next year. The scale is 1:30000 and overlap between each of the maps is generous so things look promising.
Returning to that map bought last May, it covers the Dublin and North Wicklow Mountains and I seem to remember that it needed discipline to leave the others after me at Eason's in O' Connell Street. Looking at it now, I have to say that there is a good deal of detail though I'd have to try it out on a real walk and not an armchair one to reach a definitive verdict. As well as claiming to be waterproof or water resistant on the cover, the paper used in the maps seems to be like what Harvey's use in their SuperWalker series so it should stand up to the occasional wetting, even if I wouldn't go opening the map up in a downpour like I got on the way home last Friday evening. Though my work circumstances have changed since the purchase, any excuse for more walking in my native Ireland has to be good. After all, any excuse to return to a area with pleasing hill country has to be good.
Catching some sun in Munster
28th May 2010 Last weekend, I crossed the Irish Sea for a more social visit to the south-west of the island where my parents live. While there was a spot of lawn-mowing, hedge-cutting and other bits and bobs to be done, there were chances for limited immersion in hill country too. Friday saw us heading to Gougane Barra in West Cork. The sun was playing hard to get until later in the day, but that didn't spoil any enjoyment derived from poking around Coillte's forest park in the Valley Desmond. There remains one trail that I would mind doing but it's best never to exhaust the possibilities of anywhere. In any case, having had good weather for photography on a previous visit meant that it didn't matter on this occasion.
If I had been dissatisfied, Saturday was going to rub it in with its cloudless skies and strong hot sunshine but I wasn't to be bothered. The sun did change my colour as I attended to lawn edging and other tasks but it was nothing that a rub of after-sun soother couldn't sort. It turned out that Sunday was going to offer more of the same, so hat-wearing and sunscreen were my defences against the attentions of strong sunshine. Letting down my guard wasn't an option.
Though many were heading for the coast, we struck on for Killarney. With the heat that was to be felt, it wouldn't have been the wisest to embark on a long hike without acclimatisation but it was not going to be that sort of day. In fact, the time was taken up with driving from spot to spot and strolling around them too. The locations included Looscaunagh (where the old disused pub is now for sale; who's going to buy a derelict building in the middle of nowhere in these times?), Moll's Gap, a stop to the west of Ladies' View, a lunch stop by the Upper Lake and Muckross House and Gardens. Though coach parties were being conveyed, Moll's Gap didn't feel overrun and it was only as we came downhill again that more and more other folk were being encountered.
Though there was a suggestion of haze, no cloud occupied the sky. Not was that a complete change from the last time that I was around there, but giving the sun unobstructed access to the countryside had a dramatic visual effect. In fact, I really have to think back in time to pick out a visit to Iveragh that was blessed with such good weather. The last one must have been on a Sunday in September not long after the turn of the century, when we were celebrating a family occasion with a ride out from Ross Castle around Lough Leane on the Waterbus. Before that, my memory is taken to 1995 by photos that I took that long ago. A few years before that, there was a drive down the rough track into the Black Valley and on to through the Gap of Dunloe. Maybe I need to visit more often to even up the odds of getting optimum weather.
With my luck with the weather around Killarney, it might be that 2010's visit will stick in the memory for being a photographic sweet shop. Only the chance of having an earlier start or a later finish would have made it even better. As it was, I had to contend with high sun and the risk of lens flare but I came away with something better than anything that I got before regardless. The viewpoints were by now familiar to me so I had ideas as to what to do with them and there was no fumbling in the ever strengthening sun. That's not to say that I wasn't open to anything that came my way and I now have quite a few photos to organise.
Apart from a longer out and back walk down the spit of land that separated Muckross Lake from Lough Leane. It was all short strolls for me, but that was no bad thing with temperatures hitting up to 25º C. That's not to say that some weren't embarking on longer journeys with a charity cycle in progress and a good of folk out on (hired?) bikes. Some of the latter were later found with their feet in the cooler waters of Muckross Lake, and who'd blame them? Others were loafing around in front of Muckross House as I caught it catching the sun for the first-ever time.
As good as the day was, I left with ideas for the future, with the main one being the prospect of a walk all around Muckross Lake. That would need more time than I had and figuring out something to occupy less patient souls while that is in train will be a must; I ended up most of half an hour late on returning from my walk and it sounded as if every minute was an eternity for someone, not good but I was at peace and I didn't let it get to me. An ice cream stop in Barraduff put that behind us and I got to capture a view of the Paps between the more urban paraphernalia too.
The day after couldn't have been more different with its foggy greyness, but things got ever brighter as I continued north to Dublin as I commenced my eastward return. It had taken over well by the time that my flight took off into the air. On the way over Wales, I spied the hills of Snowdonia and made out gashes like the Ogwen Valley and the Llanberis Pass. They were helping me to draw distinctions between the Carneddau, the Glyderau and Snowdon itself. In the midst of all this, I even tried looking for Moel Siabod but without enough certainty whether I had picked it out from the surrounding bumps though the Conwy Valley was unmistakable. Apart from recollections of Welsh hill outings, all this was reminding me that I am in the middle of giving the Snowdonia photo album in the photo gallery a makeover. That's not finished yet and new photos of Kerry already are in mind as is doing something with the uncertainties of the bank holiday weekend that is upon us. All this is the sort of activity that has to take second place to the necessary tasks of everyday life but it never stops in its own way either.
Those Irish strolls may have been short but I was left feeling so at ease that I ended up thinking that I don't go over there often enough. That's an old problem but resolving it could be interesting if perusals of recent issues of Walking World Ireland are to have any effect.
They don’t have to be that high
28th January 2010 Last weekend's greyness did nothing to coax me out of doors and other things took up whatever spare time was available. With a promising forecast for the coming one, I am minded to make use of what goodness comes the way, though it will mean preparation for colder temperatures and mindfulness of the threat of snow showers too. The shadow of winter hasn't left us just yet but the thought of crossing frozen moorland does sound tempting. It's too soon to say where the first full hillwalking trip of 2010 will take me but I hope to make a getaway soon, even if only for a day.
One of the things that I got around to doing last weekend was to see what more sympathetic processing would do for older photos brought away after outings among the hills of Kerry over in Ireland. Apart from the now customary thoughts about returning to see more or to do better photographic justice to the place, I got to being amazed by how proud of their surroundings and shapely even low sized hills can appear.
That observation propels my brain to another point: that steeper flanked humps can deceive. Well, they certainly can tire, as I discovered along a stretch of the West Highland Way between Balmaha and Rowardennan. None of the humps rose much above 100 metres in height but the constant up and down action wasn't kind either. Hillocks don't just possess the party trick of feeling higher than they are but they can look it too. That observation takes me to Loch Seaforth (Loch Shìphoirt) on Harris where Seaforth Island (Eilean Shìphoirt) has a high point not exceeding 200 metres in height but it doesn't rise out of the water by half when seen from Ardvourlie (Aird a' Mhulaidh). I suppose that everything looks higher when seen from next to sea level and you have to wonder how Ben More on Mull presents itself to someone walking in from the coast to reach its summit too.
Those smaller isolated hills might have their uses though, especially when they offer vistas featuring summits. It is for that reason that Diamond Hill near Letterfrack in Connemara has taken my fancy after seeing it featured in a Walking World Ireland route. If I ever manage to make to that part of County Galway, I'd have in mind for that first-ever visit. Ben Tianavaig on the Isle of Skye fulfilled a similar role with views of the Red Hills, the Cuillin, Raasay and the Trotternish all on offer in a 360º panorama on an evening that mixed bright sunshine with spells of rain. Orrest Head in Cumbria is another such delectable picking and illustrates that being deceived into expending energy to reach a lesser top is not foolishness at all. There are enough of the same kind that I risk making a big long list when only a few examples will do. The steep sides to any of these is a hint that any panoramas need work, but who can complain with the rewards on offer?
2009: a year of reconnaissance and rediscovery
26th January 2010 Before Christmas 2009, I tried making a start on this round-up, but the attempt came to a full stop. One cause was a memory block and a certain loss of chronology in the trip report postings. Along with this, end of year fatigue and lack of inspiration had their parts to play too. The latter came home to roost when I failed to capture the year in a nutshell. It's a chicken and egg kind of problem: you have to get writing to crack what it is that lies at the heart of your planned jottings, but you also need a theme in mind before you can get writing. Perhaps, it is for that reason that a month by month structure falls into place for these pieces each year.
Eventually, I cracked the problem and here is the posting that fell into place. At its heart lies a few recurring themes that the words reconnaissance and rediscovery help to convey. The first of these turns up a lot in the trip summary and reflects my iterative approach to exploring the countryside. While there are times when I go somewhere, and it all falls into place, there are many when I am setting things up for a return. The second refers to my realisation after a ten-year spell (call it a decade if you want) that was a lengthening list of places where I hadn't been for a while. Compounding that was a review of photos in the gallery that revealed that a new visit was in order for making new replacement photos. Having another go at image processing can only do so much, and that especially applies to scanning prints. It was a successful tack when it came to encouraging to go back to locations that once used to attract a lot of my attention.
Still on the subject of rediscovery, the joys of two-wheeled travel along country lanes were enjoyed too. Before the pedestrian hill wandering took hold, cycling was the way that I did all my exploring, but 2007 didn't see much time spent on my bike. That was addressed in 2008 and continued into last year. On some of my walking trips, the usefulness of cycling was brought home to me and 2010 may become a year when I go away somewhere and hire out a bike for a little while, something that I haven't done for more than a decade. Who knows, but I may get to take my bike with me to somewhere further afield once I get over a certain fear of the consequences of mechanical failure or a wheel getting punctured.
Slowly Building Up A Head Of Steam
Appropriately for a year that was to see me revisiting a number of locales where I hadn't been for a while, the first walking trip was on familiar local turf. Mind you, it took me until the last Saturday of January to get things moving, and you really end up with tight leg muscles if you decide to go up a hill in such blustery conditions that even standing upright takes a huge effort. That hike started outside the Cat and Fiddle pub before descending towards Wildboarclough and going up again to the top of Shutlingsloe before dropping back into Macclesfield once more.
Two descriptions that were to fit February of last year were freezing and frenzied. The first of these was down to a visit to British shores by a spell of cold and snowy weather that tested out a Mountain Equipment down jacket obtained at a knockdown price in the January sales. Though the cold snap was nowhere near as severe as the one that we have had since before Christmas, mountain rescue teams were littering the media with warnings about the need for winter skills and equipment. Even so, that did little to stymie my walking in four nations in four weekends, the last of these slipping into March.
Nevertheless, the first of these was a low-level walk along Great Langdale that followed the Cumbrian Way for much of the journey to Ambleside. Even though I stayed low, that's not to say that I didn't need to keep my eyes peel for ice on the ground and some of it was none too nice, if I recall correctly.
That Cumbrian adventure was followed by an Irish escapade, my first ever dedicated hillwalking trip over there. Snow still abounded, though it was on the retreat, and I was to find bare rock near the top of the Great Sugarloaf not far from Kilmacanoge. The outing was a good start and on a mild springy if grey day, but it needs following up on a suitable occasion.
After one outing on the western side of the Irish Sea, there was another on its eastern flanks. That took me to Dyffryn Ardudwy in Wales for a circular yomp around by Moelfre with clag covering even lower tops. That put an end to any idea of reaching the summit of Moelfre, but it didn't mean that the day was spoilt; low cloud has its own appeal too and the sun did get through from time to time, especially near the coast where I found old burial chambers reminiscent of Irish dolmens.
After walks in England, Ireland and Wales, it was Scotland's turn and the escapade was a very wet one with an hour or two of dryness and sunshine. The starting point was Tarbet on the shores of Loch Lomond and I rounded the lower slopes of Cruach Tarbet before doing the same with the head of Loch Long and following Glen Croe to reach Rest and Be Thankful. There was some dryness at my finishing point after a wet weather walk up the glen, but Argyll soon got its hefty shower conveyor belt going to convince me that I was going home at the right time.
The remainder of March was quiet so it was over to April to be busier, and it is here where the order of things got a bit confusing, so I'll eschew the practice of following chronological order. At Easter, I fitted in a memorable if short first visit to Aviemore to spend a wonderful day around Rothiemurchus with some ascent of lesser summits to really set off the proceedings. Other outings were less dramatic and featured a contorted trot from Congleton to Leek on a mixture of public rights of way. There may have been a battle between sun and cloud overhead, but the walk was not spoilt at all.
A long overdue return trip to Derbyshire was in the same vein, with the low-level walking offering a perfect opportunity to break in a pair of Meindl Burma boots that I purchased in the January sales at a knockdown price. My chosen route shadowed the River Derwent between Baslow and Matlock. My choice of starting point exposed me to a busy Chatsworth with a TVR owners' meet, no doubt helping the visitor numbers. The hoards were lost by continuing south on an ever brightening afternoon.
In between all of this, there was a trip to Wales for a hike from Dolwyddelan to Llyn Idwal on a gloriously hot sunny day that needed the hat that I purchased in Capel Curig after rounding Carnedd Moel Siabod. There may not have been so much height gain involved, but I was content with being surrounded by hills.
Into Early Summer
The month of May started with a trip to Eden or, to be more precise, to Cumbria's Eden Valley. I hadn't ever gone walking around Appleby-in-Westmorland before, but this was to become a good introduction. This is Pennine Way country, and I was to find my way onto the said trail near High Cup Nick. Any designs on reaching the Nick were stymied by a late train, but a good day of walking was enjoyed on an ever improving afternoon when cloud cover surrendered to the sun.
Another sampling of the verdant scenery that makes May my favourite month of the year took my from Leek back home to Macclesfield. It might have been Plan B on the day, but I was rewarded for my patience around Tittesworth Reservoir with wondrous peace and quiet as I continued to Dane Bridge, from where I picked my way for the rest of the journey home.
Another Cumbrian outing completes the set for the month with a jaunt from Coniston by way of the Cumbrian Way and Loughrigg Fell, an idea inspired by a cold weather trip in May. It was not the quietest of routes and the day was sure to draw the masses anyway, but it had its quieter stretches too.
The Cumbrian theme continued into June with my embarking on a walk from Kirkstone Pass to Windermere by way of Stony Cove Pike, Threshthwaite Mouth, Park Fell and Troutbeck Park. It was a day often spent in the sort of splendid isolation that allows some clearance of mind. Any idea of taking the high route around by Ill Bell was left for another occasion in the interests of time. The steep ascent from Stony Cove Pike may have had its role in persuading me of the sense of a lower level route.
There was a weekend visit to Scotland too, with a wet and dry perambulation along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe to Kinlochleven. The start was none too promising, but the improvement soon started but, while I sorted out some hill identification by topping out on Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin, the idea of obtaining better photos than those which I already had has yet to be fulfilled. With the scenery that resides up there, there's never any harm in returning time after time. The day after saw me enjoying a resplendent Sunday morning stroll among Inverness' leafier parts; the Ness Islands are well worth finding.
As was to be the case throughout the summer, my bike was carrying me out on local outings, with an evening trip around by Congleton and a hot afternoon cycle taking in a busy Tatton Park and a quieter Dunham Massey. After that deluge of outdoors activity, the month ended with a social trip to Ireland that took in the hills around Gougane Barra and the cliffs around Kilkee.
Barbecue Summer?
Except for ongoing local cycling trips, July was a much quieter month for me and the weather that we got was to make a mockery of the barbecue summer predictions in the long-term forecast from the Met Office (these must have become an embarrassment by now and the winter forecast was more accurate). The month did start with a visit to Liverpool while on a damp day trip to the Isle of Man, a place where I hadn't gone before and hope to revisit sometime for some hill country hiking. Even with a continuous mixture of weather, I found a dry afternoon (and evening) at the end of the month to go walking from Kidsgrove to Wheelock. Along the way, I took in Mow Cop before getting to the Macclesfield Canal on the South Cheshire Way and then crossing to the Trent and Mersey Canal for the remainder of the trek.
August turned out to be more active on the hillwalking front, and it began with a flourish, too. A day spent walking around Cwm Cau may have caught more low cloud than sun, but what could have been a continually hot August day had its cooler interludes. It was that point that kept annoyance at bay when I saw the sun gracing the sands near Barmouth.
Generally, August was like July in that a mixed bag of weather was on offer. There may have been visions of basing myself in Mallaig for a week and spreading out to the likes of the Small Isles, Knoydart, Ardnamurchan and Glenfinnan, but I was deflected by thoughts of seeing the area in less than ideal conditions.
The result was that I headed east to Aviemore for a few days instead, and the weather offered quite a mixture, quite unlike the faultless day spent up there earlier in the year. Day one got me a soaking as I was walking over the summits of Meall a’ Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a’ Chaillich and Craiggowrie and the dampness wouldn't leave well alone as I went exploring around Craigellachie. Day two was better behaved with only light showers about while on what became a low-level reconnaissance walk Inshriach that took in Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean. The evening saw me seek out the start of the Speyside Way in much the same vein. Day three had an unforeseen damp start that was the cause of my making use of the Strathspey Railway, an experience that changed my mind about steam locomotives. After that, it was onto Glen More, where more "rooting around" ensued as I reached Strath Nethy under dull skies that were battling the sun. Later, I followed the "Old Logging Way" back to Aviemore to await the overnight train for the south.
That wasn't all of my Scottish wandering because the end of the month saw me ensconced in Edinburgh with the Festival in its death throes. An escape to the Pentland Hills occupied Saturday after a stroll over Salisbury Crags. What otherwise was a dry sunny day was punctuated by light rain showers, but there still was much to enjoy. There may have been notions of an excursion to Melrose, but they were parked for an easier day around the city, revisiting old haunts. For now, the Eildon Hills lay unvisited, but there always needs to be a reason to return.
That itself reminds of what I did between those Scottish outings when I cycled to and from Lyme Park near Disley in Cheshire. The outbound route took in the Middlewood Way, Marple and part of the Macclesfield Canal, while the way back went out the back gate of Lyme to take a more hilly course that skirted Kettleshulme and dropped into Pott Shrigley and Bollington. The latter course may have involved more walking due to the gradients encountered and under ever whitening skies. The cycling was broken otherwise by restful exploration of Lyme Park on what was a busy day. Nevertheless, I still found a quiet spot where I could linger while and discover one of the joys of cycling: having more time to loiter in between all the travel. It was all part of a little photography project of mine that was sending me around by various locations in the hope of improving the Cheshire album in the photo gallery. That was set to prove successful, though there are other places that I'd like to revisit with the same purpose in mind. Anything that gets you outside has to be a good thing.
A Quieter Time Following A Rush
It appears that every busy month is either preceded or followed by a quieter one, and August had both. September was less frenetic, though there was a social visit to Ireland at the start of the month. Apart from a walk around by Springfield Castle, there was no Irish excursion of note while I was over there. An "Indian summer" visited us later in September, and the realisation that I hadn't been there for a few years sent me back to Wharfedale in Yorkshire. The weather on the day was splendid and many were out and about. To a point, that limited the enjoyment of walking all the Wharfe between Burnsall and Howgill, but it was quieter from there on and there was plenty of space for all around Bolton Abbey. The last stretch to Ilkley offered plenty of solitary moments should they have been required.
October wasn't the busiest of months for outdoor trips, either, though I did make my way to the Yorkshire Dales again. This time, it was a circular walk around Ingleton that drew me. That took in limestone country and crossed both Scales Moor and Ingleborough. Sunshine was a rare commodity until late in the day, but that didn't dull the delights of being among limestone pavements and outcrops. On a brighter day, it would have been photographic heaven, so I'll keep the idea on file for when such an opportunity arises. The same applies to explorations of the Lune Valley, along which I had made my way while travelling out from Lancaster and back again.
Waking Up For The Winter
People in Cumbria will have good reason to remember last November, and not for the best of reasons. The deluges were partially to blame for my outdoors activity being limited to a day trip to Chester, with urban strolls there and around Stockport. My giving old photos the treatment that they needed was the cause of spending a lot of spare time sat in front of a computer, too, so I set up a plan to snap myself out from what was beginning to feel like a rut.
The result of that plotted escape was a weekend trip to Fort William at the start of December, and it started with a frosty morning, too. The evening before saw me getting drenched while picking up tickets for the Caledonian Sleeper that was to carry me north overnight. While cloud was advancing from the south-west, I enjoyed the morning sunshine with a stroll around Fort William before heading out to Morar for a spot of reconnaissance after taking in the sights from the train while on the way over there. The next day was relentlessly cloudy while I set to undertake my first visit to Ardgour. It looked as if Glen Coe were catching the sun, but some ideas have been planted in my mind for future excursions. As if to draw me back again, the sun seemed to making a better battle with the clouds and I on my way home on the day after. The weekend reminded me of the plans that might have come to fruition in August, but I wonder if the way that things have come about is better.
A Sunday afternoon visit to Derbyshire followed a week later, but an onset of wet conditions may have put paid to any notions that my Scottish break had been a week too early. Even so, I enjoyed a walk from Edale to Hope that took in Mam Tor and the Great Ridge. What amazed me was how fast I got from the top of Lose Hill to Hope's train station and with some time to spare before a Manchester train came along too. It still was a nice complement to the few hours spent testing a puncture repair on a cycle that took in some of Cheshire's hill country as well.
They were the last outings of 2009 that I made before snow came and visited us. To make something of the white stuff, I embarked on a local stroll that took in the Macclesfield Canal, Tegg's Nose, the Gritstone Trail and Rainow. The lying snow was pristine and clear skies allowed the sun to do its magic, so I reached home again, satisfied with what was gained by my labours. A trip across the Irish Sea completed the year and, though another social one, there were hikes around by Springfield Castle and Kilmeedy in West Limerick.
And so to 2010...
In summary, there was quite a mix of destinations, with new locations like Wicklow and the Cairngorms mixed in with local haunts in Cheshire and places visited a while back. 2010 is without big plans and has a feeling of a watershed about it. The idea of doing something a little different from previous years appeals. As of now, I have no idea what it might be, but it won't be a case of consigning all previous things to the bin. Saying that, having a bit more variety and less repetition wouldn't be a bad thing.
