Category: Europe
Better late than never
14th May 2013 If you are a magazine publisher, it helps if you can do so on a regular schedule. Walking World Ireland has fallen foul of that more than once within the last year, and it has taken five months for the current issue to arrive, both to subscribers and to shops. Last year's annual featured multiple walking routes taken directly from Collins Press' series of walking guides, instead of coming from regular contributors such as Dennis Gill and Tom Hutton. That left me wondering if financial troubles were the cause of that, though the content wasn't any less useful as a result.
For any struggling magazine, an irregular publishing schedule is the sort of habit that needs breaking. It also was one that afflicted the now defunct Cycling World magazine, and it leaves a gap in the marketplace these days. If you were after a magazine that prioritised route features over cycling kit, then this would have been the one to have. Now that it's gone, it appears that coverage and reviews of new bikes and other pieces of equipment is what sells, and that the experience of getting out in the countryside to clear your head is playing second fiddle.
Thankfully, walking is more about the experience of being outside in the countryside than about the kit that you use. The result has been that we are keen to read about new routes and the experiences of others. Walking World Ireland has done well on both counts for as long as I have known it and gives prominence to a country whose countryside deserves it. Reassuring, the latest late edition has something of the character to which I have come to expect of the magazine. There are two routes from a long-standing regular contributor (Tom Hutton) and Andy Callan is doing gear reviews. EastWest Mapping still supplies route maps, so things feel as if they may be returning to normal.
However, there are changes afoot too, and these are described in an otherwise apologetic editorial. The publishing frequency is set to go from bimonthly to quarterly, and a digital edition is planned too. Hopefully, that will be available for Android tablets (there is a Nexus 7 in my possession) and that blinding by iPad isn't witnessed as has been the case for other magazines. It sounds as if the last few months have been difficult ones for a magazine that has been with us since 1993, so I hope that it has a future in uncertain economic times. Hopefully, the ample amount of satisfying Irish walking will continue to have a place on new stands because it is more than deserved. With subscriptions priced now from €18, the offering looks more attractive than it ever did.
Update 2013-05-20: Cycling World magazine has turned out not to be as defunct as I thought that it was; the May issue is out now, and I have a copy in my possession after a visit to the Macclesfield branch of W H Smith on Saturday. However, the Walking World Ireland website is down as write these words, so that's not a happy harbinger for its continued existence after there being a troubled year for the magazine.
Update 2013-06-09: Walking World Ireland has got its website up and going again, so all is looking more promising. Now, let's hope things stay that way for them...
Within a landscape of loss
14th April 2013 It's been quiet on here since last February and part of the cause has been a life event. Within the last few weeks, my aged mother passed away after a short illness. There were other underlying medical problems too so we couldn't expect the increasingly frail lady to be around forever. Yet, she went quicker than we would have grown to expect. In fact, it was my father who was of greater concern with his nearly dying on us at the start of January. Miraculously, he came from that but still needs round the clock nursing care. That has placed him in a nursing home and it's not something that he is accepting easily; every so often, we have the pain of him inventing schemes to get away from there and it's very far from being a bad example of the breed. Loneliness, grief and perhaps a certain amount of homesickness may be behind his ever more desperate and worrying suggestions. He cannot live as he did before so it would be great to see him settle where he is.
It's at times like these that a good natter with a friend can mean so much, especially someone who intimately knows a little of the situation that is being faced. Also, there's trotting through the countryside. Most of these are short strolls in nearby parks in Wilmslow and Macclesfield. There is something about purposeful striding that gets stress out of your system (much better than taking it out on someone else anytime) while also allowing a bit of head clearing thinking. Amusing encounters with other folk's dogs lift the spirit too.
There was a longer trot in the sunshine of last Saturday from Hayfield to Glossop via Coldwell Clough, Kinder Reservoir, William Clough and Doctor's Gate. It was the prospect of going through a less peopled countryside that was the cause of drawing me there. There wasn't complete desertion though, even if there was more than plenty of space for everyone. It granted me the long episodes of solitude that allowed for gazing upon the surrounding moorland and dealing with any unevenness in the terrain; the Doctor's Gate footpath was a little tricky due to subsidence and areas of banked snow, but most of my course was less taxing than this, even those snow banks I found higher up William Clough. Mostly, I wasn't concentrating much on where my legs needed to travel and more on enjoying the experience of being out and about, of feeling that not all life comes to a stop when a loved one is lost.
Hopefully, there will be more of those longer outdoor escapades. My mother may wonder at where I went but she loved the outdoors too. Scenic parts of counties Kerry and Cork were particular favourites, but Connemara and Wicklow saw their way into her canon as well. She was the one who most appreciated any souvenir volumes of landscape photos that I ever brought as gifts. The last of these that I ever gave to her came from a trip to the Isle of Man, a gift for Mother's Day. Of special delight to her was the exposure to sea air with many a trip to Irish seaside destinations such as Ballybunion, Beale, Ballyheigue and Banna (all in County Kerry as it happened, and she was a Corkwoman) resulted from this desire. Though I do coastal walking, I have never been a seaside person with my own preferences causing day outings to Gougane Barra and Killarney. In fact, the best ever visit to the latter also had the best weather of a hot sunny Sunday in May 2010. With a decline in my father's well-being, that was our last such trip like that together and its memories are all the more important now.
It is from my parents that I got the hill country bug that has been the cause of so many excursions. Times may be trying now but they also may be the cause of my getting out and about more too. In times past, it may have caused some conflicts of its own, but the head clearing properties of a good walk are more than apt right now.
A trot through the Goyt Valley
24th February 2013 Having glimpsed it from a walk in January of last year, thoughts of strolling along the length of the Goyt valley took until early in last October to become reality. Though the day itself had plenty of sun, the soggy summer meant that there were plenty of muddy stretches to be encountered. After all, the head of the valley is a watershed and they hardly ever are dry places to be going even when a drier year comes our way.
My walk started from the Cat and Fiddle Inn and the sunshine had thrown a confusion of decisions my way before I even left Macclesfield at all. First, there was the prospect of retracing my steps along the Gritstone Trail between Bollington and Disley. Though it was a wrench at the time, that prospect happily got used up at the end of the next month. There also was another possibility that involved travelling along paths and tracks that I sampled before: going from the Cat and Fiddle Inn back home again via Shutlingsloe and Macclesfield Forest. The weather aborted that round of indecision with advancing clouds from the south and so I journeyed towards Whaley Bridge. There is another round of retracing of steps in the form of going to Whaley Bridge via Shining Tor, Windgather Rocks and Kettleshulme and that happily was left for another time as was going towards Rainow via Lamaload Reservoir. With the number of excuses for going around those parts, it makes me wonder why I cannot summon the zeal to do so more often than I do; maybe the cares of life weigh on me more than they should and that gaining a little perspective may be in order.
As with a number of those previous trots, I walked by the side of the A537 until I met with a path towards either Shining Tor or the Goyt Valley depending on your itinerary and I have embarked on both at different times. As it happened on that Sunday in October, I made as if for the latter but with a different twist to what I did on one of those previous outings.
That twist was to involve taking a right turn before any of those left turns that I took on those prior explorations. Doing so meant my descent down a slope that became increasingly muddy as I grew ever nearer to Stake Clough and continued in that vein all the way to Deep Clough. It didn't stop others doing the same as me, though they did thin out over time. For those who braved the ground conditions, there were ample rewards in the form of views east towards Burbage Edge and north up the Goyt Valley towards Errwood Reservoir and beyond that again.
Once past the wood surrounding Goytsclough Quarry, it was time to drop onto tarmac again. That dalliance didn't last long, though I might have been tempted to go up the road for a footpath going across Goyt's Moss. Instead, I chose to drop down to a nearby footbridge and follow a less formal path instead. It, too, had its quieter interludes and granted me views towards the woods on the side of Hoo Moor and of Errwood Reservoir itself too. Naturally, the going remained muddy though I was less surprised by this than others who I met coming against me; one gentleman was wearing trail shoes and I gathered from the few words that we shared that he'd have come more prepared if he'd realised what was ahead of him.
Over time, the cloud cover was progressing on its northbound journey just as I was. Sounder ground was my lot as I rounded the reservoir to meet a track that was better again. Maybe that is how some were deceived into going further than perhaps they ought to have done. My course took me along the lower slopes of Wild Moor and involved a dogleg around by a bridge over Wildmoorstone Brook. Around there, there was a minor profusion of right of way signs luring me into seemingly isolated countryside that felt as if moorland extended in all directions. It's amazing how less tame corners exist surrounded by man-made intrusions like roads and reservoirs.
With a course set in my mind, I left those other itineraries for another time to join a right of way for the rest of the journey to the dam of Errwood Reservoir. Though I was going along its side, tree cover meant that it wasn't in sight all the time either. Advancing cloud cover was overtaking me by now too, though that didn't perturb me unduly. Any pleasing photos from that dam would need another day and provide a useful excuse to come and visit these parts again.
The going along that public footpath wasn't anywhere near as muddy as it was further up the valley and conditions underfoot were set to become even more solid when I met the road going down to the reservoir dam. This had a former life as part of the original course of the High Peak railway from Cromford to Whaley Bridge that took an uncompromising line around Buxton and down the Goyt Valley. The remains of the old alignments are still in place to be seen near Buxton and I have been passing some of them without realising their significance. They date from a time early in railway history with a mixture of horsepower and stationary steam engines were the way of things until self-propelled steam locomotives overtook both.
One across the dam of one reservoir, it was time to meet up with another: Fernilee. My crossing of Errwood's dam meant that I had declined to stick with the old route of the High Peak Railway to follow a track through woodland beneath Hoo Moor. The last time that I had been along here, I had been following the Midshires Way from Buxton to Whaley Bridge on a showery summer day. That got a little complex and needed map reading in the rain, not a good combination when you only have a paper map and no map case. That the sun emerged from clouds every time a shower came upon me was a perplexing experience that cut down on any photographic efforts.
Not being in the mood for a navigation test, I stuck with a low-level path right by the shore of Fernilee Reservoir. There wasn't much scope for photography either because of the overcast skies, but there can be another time for that activity. However, lunch was still a possibility and I stopped at a useful bench for that. Folk were out and about with a loud child noising on the opposite bank, leaving me to wonder why some folk feel the need to shatter peaceful silence. There was irritation or rancour in my mind cause by this since there was plenty of space for all of us.
These reservoirs provide drinking water for the town of Stockport, a surprise to see that one of them (Errwood) hosts a boating club. More in tune with its use, Fernilee hosts no such antics and I suppose that water treatment plants take care of the differences even if signs around the likes of Trentabeck Reservoir near Macclesfield have signs on their banks advising against messing up a water supply. After the foot of Fernilee Reservoir, there was one more dam to be crossed before embarking on a gentle walk by the River Goyt.
Dropping down from the dam, I left the course of the old railway to pass more industrial workings before emerging into quiet fields once again. There was a sense that the day was darkening noticeably at this stage as I picked my way from field to field and across stretches of woodland too. The last of these was Shallcross Wood and it was around here where my OS OL24 should have been followed by my OL1, if I had not neglected to bring the latter with me. However, the A5004 was near at hand anyway and a little stretch of following my nose was enough to get me on there at Horwich End.
The rest of my trot was by the A5004 as it took me into the heart of Whaley Bridge. The timing of that last half mile meant that any designs on catching the next train to Stockport were extinguished; legs only can be pushed to go so fast at times and this was one of those. By the train station, folk were waiting at the nearby shelter for the next bus towards the same destination, and onto Manchester Airport in some cases, so my walk happily finished there. However, the Goyt Valley cannot be ticked off as if on a list, so there could be more exploring to do around there yet.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 58 from Macclesfield to Cat & Fiddle Inn. Bus service 199 from Whaley Bridge to Stockport and train from Stockport to Macclesfield again.
Sudden stratospheric what?
20th January 2013 Last night, I saw BBC video clips about the phenomenon that has been behind our cold spell. Apparently, a mixing of air between the troposphere (up to 10 km high) and the stratosphere (10-50 km high) in the atmosphere has disrupted the usual polar winter vortex and had an effect on our weather too, with the usual Atlantic jet stream getting blocked and winds drawing cold air from Europe over to us. Part of this whole thing is something called sudden stratospheric warming and it gives weather forecasters a hint of what is to come even if it doesn't become an Arctic spell of wintry weather like what we are getting now.
Macclesfield's nearby hills have been getting their share of the white stuff, but its hold on the town is more tenuous. In fact, there was a semblance of a thaw earlier on today. Many pavements were clear of ice and snow as I popped down the Riverside Park by the river Bollin for a short taste of the winter conditions. There were plenty of folk out and about too and many of them were walking dogs. Not everywhere was coated in white and the river was flowing well too.
The sights of green grass with which I was surrounded could be changed though by what is falling from the sky as I am writing these words. It is nowhere near as heavy as some places though the Met Office is forecasting near constant if light snowfall for tonight and tomorrow, so who knows what could build up on us? Still, we are not expecting dumps like what south Wales and south-east England got or what has been predicted for both sides of the Scotland-England border.
Funnily enough, times like these used to have me wondering about seeing hills and they coated in white, but the excitement of snowfall appears to have been lost on me for whatever reason. It might have been those cold spells in the winters of 2009/10 and 2010/11 when I got my fill, but there may be other factors. After all, having ageing parents means a certain amount of worry in times like these and there is the obvious nuisance factor of snow and ice too. Or is it the general greyness that seems to be accompanying this cold snap where I live? Still, the mix of white snow and grey skies can be a powerful one in photos so that could liberate me for whatever is jaundicing my outlook right now. It'd be no harm leaving the cares of the world behind me for a while to enjoy something that usually happens to be ephemeral in our climate.
As it so happens, my eyes have been feasting on sunlit greens and not grey whiteness. The cause has been a catch-up with trip reports from last summer and autumn. There should be more to come and I may have one from this year in the form of a walk along the Macclesfield Canal from Congleton to home from last Sunday too. The one long walk a month plan remains and I am hoping to be among hills more often too. Of course, that depends on how life goes this year and that is a story yet to told and may have a few unexpected twists and turns too. January, normally a quieter month, has been a roller coaster ride already too so I'm keeping an open mind as to how things will go from here.
Update 2013-01-21: Overnight, Macclesfield (and its nearby hills too since keeping the roads from Buxton to Macclesfield and Congleton clear is quite an effort) did get quite an accumulation of snow until it stopped around midday. Some of it has melted since but there still is a lot of whitening with snow sticking to trees now too. With the cold week ahead, it looks like it'll stay a while too, so a weekend escapade may come to pass. It's not likely to be too adventurous and a train journey along the Settle to Carlisle railway line came to mind last week. Making a loop of that outing using the West Coast Mainline popped into my head too. It's a far cry from the heights where you'd need an ice axe and some avalanche awareness. Maybe I might get to the foothills yet like I did in previous cold snaps; today's whitening certainly brightened my day in its own way.
Along the Saddle of Kerridge and around by Tegg’s Nose
19th January 2013 The last Saturday of September came up sunny and weariness had forestalled my trotting elsewhere. Teesdale had lain in my mind for a while but I never could summon the energy for a Saturday morning getaway. The previous weekend saw me head to a retail park on the outskirts of Macclesfield for a bit of computer component shopping by using the Macclesfield Canal for part of the way there. The ambience and sights of that stroll still remain with me. Maybe it got me to sample the Saddle of Kerridge the very next Saturday.
It may have been later in the afternoon than it should have been by the time that I got myself over to Bollington to start my way along Ingersley Vale. There may have been a number of public footpaths luring me away from the tarmac but I stuck to my planned course of making for the Gritstone Trail and following up to the White Nancy Monument as I had done several times before. The sun was out so there were more than enough excuses for stopping on the way up. Clouds were packing the northern skies but it stayed away from where the sun was going, never a bad thing.
On my final approach to the White Nancy, I spotted that it had been decorated with royal arms to celebrate the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth's reign and the Olympic rings were added to the other side. The double decoration highlighted quite what a year 2012 had been and why so many will have good memories from then even if economic conditions could have been better.
Like I did in April 2011, I continued along the Saddle of Kerridge with the still active quarry to my right. Being at the weekend, this was all quiet, so views in the opposite direction were there to be enjoyed in peace. They were of the hills surrounding Rainow and I kept going towards the trig point at the top of Kerridge Hill, a course that took me away from the Gritstone Trail and gained me more panoramic vistas to survey.
Next, I lost height to reach the B5470 that links Macclesfield to Rainow, Kettleshulme, Whaley Bridge and Chapel-en-le-Frith. While I could have followed that road to make my way home, I decided that it was too early in the day to do so and made for Calrofod Lane. There was some dalliance with a footpath going by Marsh Farm, but the farmyard seemed busy to me so I returned to the road instead; having grown up on a farm, I don't possess a burning wish to stroll through the farmyards of others when I am out in the countryside.
From Calrofod Lane, it was onto Cliff Lane and then up to the A537 between Macclesfield and Buxton. Once across the latter, I was away from tarmac again and skirt a Forestry Commission wood on a path leading to another stretch of the Gritstone Trail. The sun was starting to drop in the sky by this stage to make all shadows ever longer and even got stuck behind cloud cover too to make them disappear again at times. That was no perturbation as I made my way to Tegg's Nose and that hill even became lit up for a while too.
Once there, a chance to gaze towards Shutlingsloe was afforded to me again. However, it wasn't to be a chance to reprise photos like ones that I made previously, yet another useful excuse for another visit should the opportunity present itself. Retracing my steps from the car park, I rejoined the Gritstone Trail and followed it until I was dropped between Teggsnose and Bottoms reservoirs. Before. There was plenty of higher level tramping that on another day would have gained even more pleasing photos; it was no hardship to content oneself with the views, though. There was a procession by the remains of quarry works with old machinery and information boards offering deviations from just walking continuously. The latter even highlighted the health risks of inhaling dust during stone cutting and dressing, a world away from the peaceful recreation that the place now offers.
By those reservoirs, I took leave of the Gritstone Trail to drop into the village of Langley. Light was declining well by now, but that didn't deter me from escaping road walking to follow a well trodden public footpath by Birch Knoll and The Hollins. It is well known to me too, so the risk was a calculated one and I was a little surprised to hear the sound of golf balls being struck as I crossed a golf course. Beyond there, it was a short trot along a street before I dropped onto the towpath of the Macclesfield Canal as the day well into the throes of dusk if not nightfall. Going the rest of the way home took place along streets with lights on overhead, so everything was timed well.
One thought that kept recurring in my mind throughout the afternoon and early evening was how infrequent my incursions into Macclesfield's hill country can be. After all, I should be visiting Shutlingsloe more often than once every few years; a few times a year sounds more like it. Part of the reason may be how much there is to savour in the hills separating Macclesfield from Buxton. After all, 2012 became a year when I enjoyed many walks that didn't take me so far from home so it all can't be the allure of hill or coastal countryside that lies further afield. Still, redoubling of efforts sounds not a bad thing to go doing.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 10 from Macclesfield to Bollington.
