Outdoor Discoveries

From Hathersage to Sheffield with clag abounding but not obstructing

In many ways, this hike follows on from the last one that I did in 2017. It was the first of a pair of moorland rambles that finished in Sheffield city centre in darkness. The second one started from Grindleford to make the most of the shorter hours of December daylight, while this one began from Hathersage to fulfil a possibility that was spotted on that 2017 outing and followed part of the Sheffield Country Walk next to some appealing crags.

The way out from Hathersage shadowed the end of the previous hike. Because of declining light, that had made use of Coggers Lane after Denis Knoll for the sake of easier navigation; my memories of this are that it was quiet because motorised traffic went elsewhere from the car park at Denis Knoll. The views were available to a point at the start, but I entered Hathersage in darkness. This time around, I followed the off-road Baulk Lane on a course that took me to Green’s House via Brookfield Manor and Brontë Cottage.

My passing Green’s House was reminiscent of a walk that I undertook more than fifteen years before. Then, I was also bound for Stanage Edge, but I believe that I went north that day and returned to Bamford via Ladybower Reservoir. The walk may even have begun from Bamford, though the mists of time somewhat fog up certainty on that matter. There was even a photo in the online gallery of this website for a time that recalled this, and the approach was from the west back then.

This time around, I came to green’s House from the south and continued past it to the north, and not the west like the previous time. All the while, sunshine was coming and going, as it had been all day. There was a hazy feel to long-distance views too, with things looking a little claggy from time to time. There also was a piercing east wind, so that also ensured that I kept moving.

After Denis Knoll, I was retracing some of the steps that I traipsed the year before. The light was stronger because of the earlier time of day, and the views beckoned me forth. Buck Stone was passed, with Stanage Edge coming ever closer. As I approached, I surveyed the views that lay about me.

My lure was Long Causeway, a clear track that led through the crags of Stanage Edge. Tracks like this always appeal to me, so long as there is not too much multi-modal usage. This time around, that was not the case, so I could enjoy what surrounded much like I do on such things in Scotland.

The track took me past Stanedge Pole before dropping down to Redmires Reservoirs. The day was advancing, and I needed to be determined if I were to get to Sheffield. There would have been a time when I might have reconsidered my plans, but there was always the fallback of using a head torch later if needed. There was quite a way to go yet.

To get to Fullwood Lane, I made use of concessionary paths that were more boggy than that on which I had been travelling. There was some added route finding too as I veered around by White Stones. Nevertheless, I returned to tarmac and set to finding the path leading down to Porter Brook. Now, my course to the heart of Sheffield was largely set.

Light was declining noticeably by then, though, and that took away a little from the enjoyment that I might otherwise have gained. The banks of the watercourse felt wilder than I might have expected. The other surprise was how many were making use of the amenity that late in the day. It was not just stragglers like myself who were pottering about in the dusk. The attraction of more natural surroundings must defy any lack of light for them.

The trail does finish up in Endcliffe Park, and the increasing darkness caused me to bail out around Hanging Water. The rest of the way had me shadowing Porter Brook under street lights with by now tiring limbs. Beyond Endcliffe Park, it was a matter of making for the city’s train station. This was not as easy as walking along the banks of a stream, since improvements for motorised traffic add deflections to any sense of a direct course.

It had been a Sunday filled up with a station to station walk and many delights. If I had been more motivated or less occupied by other matters, I might have got out on Saturday instead. That might have meant an earlier start (trains start later from Macclesfield on Sundays) and hence better lighting on the Sheffield section of the amble. Instead, I was pondering another way to do just that. What was filling my mind was the prospect of another station to station walk: Grindleford to Sheffield. With shorter days, that shorter course might mean that I would not have needed to wait too much longer. In the event, it did not, and that is the next trip report that needs doing.

Travel Arrangements

Outbound train journey from Macclesfield to Hathersage with a change at Manchester Piccadilly. Return train journey from Sheffield to Macclesfield, changing either at Stockport (faster train) or Manchester Piccadilly (slower one); the journey is lost to my recollection now, but my sense is that I would have gone via Stockport for sake of speed and convenience.

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.

Shoreline stravaiging in East Lothian

Aside from getting windows upgraded in a house in Ireland and an announcement of future disruptive tax changes, the autumn of 2018 was steadier for me. It was a big difference from that of 2017 when emotional decompression was in order, or in 2016 when I had a big task in progress in Ireland. With less weighing on me, I was able to get out more whenever the weather offered.

One such occasion happened during a weekend stay in Edinburgh. That allowed me to walk from North Berwick to Seton Sands, surveying the East Lothian coastline as I did so. This had been inspired by an issue of The Great Outdoors magazine that I had read shortly beforehand.

There may have been a plan to follow the John Muir Way, but I was lured onto the beach at North Berwick, so I attempted to do most of my walking in the intertidal zone with exceptions when it did not work out. Views of offshore islands like Lamb, Craigleith and the more distant Bass Rock all held my attention as I continued on sand and over rocky outcrops.

It took time for views to change, although the ground underfoot was ever varied. Eventually, the islands that had been near where I started began to grow ever more distant. Others were out strolling too, but there was ample space for all of us. The tide was well out, and I even spied some kitesurfing going on in the shallow waters near the island of Fidra. After that, my lot included crossing of dunes and rocky outcrops to get to Gullane Bay. My course was changing from westerly to southerly as I went.

Eventually, I needed to go inland a smidgen around Gullane Point to reach Gullane Sands and Aberlady Bay. The prospect of a rising tide began to occupy my thoughts as I made my way across a broad expanse of sand. Behind me, I could see North Berwick Law catching some sun. My way to Gosford Sands was blocked by the depth of Peffer Burn, so I had no option except to turn inland to Aberlady. Momentary concern about tides cause me to cross the burn and get my trousers well wet in the process. A calmer mind would have ensured a retreat to a bridge instead of that more drastic action.

Sunshine had been terminated by a cloud-filled sky by this stage, but views of Edinburgh’s hills were not obstructed. Following the route of the John Muir Way conveyed me from Aberlady to Seton Sands, where a waiting bus convinced me not to walk any further. Nearby Gosford Sands or the beach of Seton Sands itself did not tempt me. Wet attire, though drying, was one dampener, but another came in the form of a little rain for a time. As it happens, I do not remember Gosford Sands not having that much extent at the time, in any case. What was also comforting was the quietness of the trail as light began to decline, since I was feeling more than a little foolish after my dunking.

While there might have been the prospect of following the John Muir Way for most of the way back to my hotel, it probably was best to curtail those ambitions for another time. Another trip to Edinburgh could use such a scheme, and there also is the possibility of including Dunbar in a hike. Neither idea has been used yet, but one hike easily inspires more, as I have found over the years. My wander along the East Lothian coastline had brought many delights and I even hear the sea as I look at the photos too.

Travel Arrangements

A return train journey got me from Macclesfield to Edinburgh and back. A single train journey got me from Edinburgh to North Berwick for the start of the walk, while Lothian bus services returned me to my lodgings from Seton Sands.

A time with little sun around the counties of Galway & Clare

2022 became a year when I enjoyed many hikes in Ireland. Even with other things to do, I got out as much as I could. There was a lot of sunshine and some rain too, but the expansion of horizons was beyond my hopes. Another aspect of this was that I could enjoy seeing the country of my birth without feeling guilty. Before, my ventures had felt more like theft, in that I stole in and out of the place. This includes brief saunters around Howth Head and to the top of the Great Sugar Loaf near Kilmacanoge. The reason is that trips to Ireland were always about family, and it felt wrong not to do that. The passing away of my parents and the passage of time since then means that I can move beyond that now.

The seed for the Galway trip was sown one weekend when my father was still around when I was returning to the U.K. It was a fine, sunny Sunday afternoon, and I was tempted to stay on the bus all the way to Galway instead of disembarking at Shannon Airport as planned. The need to be at work the next day, together with a lack of accommodation, put paid to that proposal, so it had to wait.

That vigil lasted until August 2018. By then, inheritance works had settled, a career break has passed, and I was back in work as a freelancer. With those in place, my mind could turn again to longer excursions, and I stole into Galway without telling very many at all. Staying in a hotel about thirty minutes walk from the city was about keeping costs under control, not keeping a low profile. That distance did add peace and quiet, even if there were building works ongoing at the time; it never meant that any excursion from the city became impossible, though catching a regular city bus did speed things up from time to time.

On the day of arrival, I naturally pottered about Galway, especially with the evening becoming brighter. This was one of the sunnier periods during the whole trip, for grey skies were more common. There also was dampness that affected an incursion into Clare as well as the Saturday evening in Galway itself. Saturday itself was spent around Recess and Clifden in Connemara, with low cloud and leaden skies predominant. Sunday then had a grey start, but there was more brightness between Maam Cross and Oughterard, even if having it arrive earlier would have made my surroundings rather magical. On Monday, I ventured to Aran where there was some sunshine after a grey start, though rain showers were about the place at times.

All the dry sunny weather for which many recall 2018 was a passing memory, while the introductions could do with following up should life events allow. There was to be one trip report for the lot until it got too long. Thus, it got split into five other parts, which you will find linked in the preceding paragraph. Along the way, there were some awkward moments to recall, but there was a lot of solo wandering as well. This was the start of Irish hill country incursions that I followed with numerous others this year. Returning to Galway and Clare in better weather remains an unaddressed possibility for now, though.

Travel Arrangements

Getting from Manchester to Galway involved a return flight between Manchester and Knock and a return bus journey between Knock and Galway on Bus Éireann Expressway route 64.

A day on Aran

This is the last of four hiking trip reports from an August 2018 stay in Galway that allowed me to venture on day hikes in the counties of Clare and Galway. The first of the four ventured along part of County Clare’s Atlantic Coast, while the second related reconnaissance wanderings around Connemara, and the third followed a section of the Western Way as it went from Maam Cross to Oughterard. There is also an account of a preceding evening stroll around Galway among my Travel Jottings. This instalment describes a day out on the largest of the Aran Islands.

It often is the case that I get more adventurous on the last full day of a trip away. The cause is that I have got acclimatised sufficiently in a place to do so. This is something that I noticed on a trip to Iceland in 2015, and it has recurred so many times since then that it almost is a regular pattern. One downside to all this is that it can jeopardise making a return flight on time if things go awry.

There were a few reasons for my heading out to Inishmore, as it is known in the English language. First, there is a handy walking loop on the island with added side trips if I wanted to explore more of the place. One of those would take me to the well-known Dún Aonghasa, and there are others. The name of this first fort also echoes my own surname in the Irish language, Ó hAonghusa, though the link may be more incidental than concrete in nature.

Skies were grey as I left Galway and travelled by bus through south Connemara, and within sight of the coastline. There was plenty of time to buy a ticket and catch a passenger ferry, too. There were a few leaving at the same time, so there was plenty of space for everyone, a good thing since day trippers on coach excursions were going too. In fact, I got onto the island earlier than I might have hoped.

The chance of hiring a bike might have been tempting, but I kept things simple and stuck with the Shank’s Mare approach. As part of orientation, I followed the island’s central road a little before turning back on myself to go in the direction of Killeany. At An Poll Mór, I turned onto the Back Road to continue in the direction of Gort na gCapall, not having seen much in the way of sunshine. The lanes were quiet, though, and I wanted to avoid the minibus and horse-drawn excursion traffic going down the spine of the island.

This section was to be the quietest part of my hike around Aran, and I certainly relished the quietude of it all. The grey barrenness of the landscape was as striking as it was reminiscent of the Burren in County Clare. Quite how anyone could make a living here was somewhat revealed during my reading of Tim Robinson’s Stones of Aran duology later in the year. It certainly is not easy harvesting seaweed or bird’s eggs while finishing off cattle for the market on the dry landscape in exchange for turf from the mainland.

Just as Aran’s human history is not so extensive in scale, notable event or record, its landscape is seemingly simple as well. There are no big hills to draw the eye, while its shoreline is another matter, with a long line of cliffs on its southern side. It is as if this land was sheared from the mainland at one time, given the similarities shared with the Burren in County Clare.

Once I was past the collection of houses that is Gort na gCapall, I was either bound for the west of the island or on my return to Kilronan. Going to the western end of Inishmore did appeal only for time concerns and a visit to Dún Aonghasa to deflect me from such a course. Visiting the fort was a must for me and I encountered my first (and perhaps only) rain of the day while en route from the gift shop where I paid the entrance fee.

Thankfully, the sun returned for me to spend a pleasant time around the antiquity while admiring the surrounding views as well. There is a raised platform in its heart that prompts questions as to why it was there and what the purpose of the construction was. The sharp drop into the surf also focusses many minds; I was to hear an American lady caution her father over exactly that consideration. This is an antiquity seemingly severed by landscape erosion, after all.

On my return from Dún Aonghasa, I stopped at the gift shop again and was stunned to hear “Go raibh míle maith agat” following a purchase of an item that did not cost much. This sadly forced an expression of gratitude in English that I regretted. The incident is probably forgotten by the other party now, but a thousand blessings felt excessive in the circumstances. Sometimes, a combination of knowing too much and translating directly is not a good one…

After that, I headed back to Kilronan while shadowing the north side of the island. The smell of horse manure was pervasive as I did so, since these roads do not get the planing that their Kerry counterparts get. This was a busier if narrow road, with pulses of added traffic intruding on a desire to keep moving. The beach at Kilmurvy too was an excuse to leave the throng for a while, but I also noticed the views of Connemara and the extra fertility of the landscape compared to what I passed through on the other side of the island. There were other opportunities to leave tarmac for a while, though, as I shortened the distance to Kilronan.

In some ways, I might have been overcautious because I had more time in Kilronan than I had expected. Small islands tend to have that effect on me; thoughts of being marooned are not good ones, and they first arose on a primary school trip to Sherkin Island, even though we surely were OK that time. Others were not so burdened and could wait, but I left them to that after using Kilronan as a food and information gathering stop.

On the return sailing, I noticed just how the boat swayed from side to side in the sea. It was easy to see how some might get thrown overboard, and I need to stop myself going too far just the once. Otherwise, it was a case of admiring what basked in the sun as we passed it. For one thing, the hills of Clare were catching some sunshine in the otherwise grey gloom. The lighthouse on Oileán an Tuí was another beneficiary, as was Inishmaan.

On getting back to Rossaveal, I started to explore the place a little without much sunshine or other movement. To me, this was a stilly part of Ireland, where Aran Island traffic became the only cause of any hubbub. There may have been signs for a seemingly defunct hiking trail, but this did not feel like walking country. That meant there was time for another food stop before the bus came to collect me and those who arrived from Aran on a later ferry.

While I was happy to be going back to Galway to get ready for returning to the U.K. the next day, it had been a good day out and there are possibilities for going back to see more of the place. Inishmore’s hotel offers the chance of a stay, avoiding any anxiety about getting marooned should the weather play nice. That would allow wandering to the western and eastern extremities without qualms, and it may even mean that early and late hour quietude could be enjoyed, especially if pleasing lighting was on offer. That would make a nice short break with plenty of strolling and, perhaps, some cycling as well.

The same comments may apply to Inishmaan or Inisheer just as well. They might even fit in with a return to Clare’s western coastline. Exploring that in brighter weather really does appeal, and there are passenger ferry connections from Doolin too. When reconnaissance has happened, more possibilities can emerge.

Travel Arrangements

Return bus journey on Bus Éireann service 424 between Galway and Rossaveal and return boat sailing between Rossaveal and Inishmore with Aran Island Ferries.