Category: Europe
Sometimes, others can walk further than you’d expect…
12th January 2013 Most of the time, my ambles take me away from crowds. However, there have been occasions when I happened on a honey pot that has attracted all and sundry. One place where I felt a little hemmed in by others would be a surprising one: the path from Ribblehead up to the top of Whernside on a Saturday in July 2006. My itinerary was taking me to Dentdale and eventually to Sedbergh and that took me through much quieter parts. Then, there was the time around Tarn Hows, but the paths were wide enough to accommodate everyone there on a sunny Spring Bank Holiday in May. Mostly, it hasn't taken that long to leave those out for a gentle amble behind me.
However, I also have found that it can take a while on a walk before you can feel as if your space is less restricted too. For instance, a hike from Burnsall to Ilkley needed to pass Appletreewick before things grew quieter again and that almost was how it felt from then on even if I passed the crowd-magnet that is Bolton Abbey. What may have helped then was my trotting along a broad valley with farmland about me for much of the way.
Something similar but far more concentrated happened on a walk on the first Saturday of last September from Thorpe to Hartington that followed the course of the River Dove for much of the way. It began quietly enough at a bus stop on the outskirts of Thorpe and the village proved a quiet spot with tempting paths leading here and there from it. One could have taken me from the public convenience to the banks of the Dove via Lin Dale but I had another plan in my head so I stuck with the road for Ilam until I met with a footpath to the right just before St. Mary's Bridge.
That proved itself a quiet course with few folk from the car park that I passed just a little earlier making any use of it. Having a tarmac road on the Staffordshire side of the dale must have kept them away from the crossing of fields. Without the sense of holding up anyone, I could soak up the views about me. That was just as well since Thorpe Cloud looked good in the morning sunshine. It only was later that the day would become the sort of scorcher about which so many fantasise when they dream of summer.
Others may have realised that this was ahead and it may have lured many out of doors to snatch a semblance of the summer dream that never came to pass. It was when I entered Dovedale that I realised just how many were so doing. Most remained on the opposite of the river, though some were coaxing young children along the rough track along the floor of Thorpe Cloud on my side. In fact, I was wondering if I was going the right way, even if I was. Another thought is whether the summer rains have washed away what would have been a more passable one, but that's not a question that I am able to answer.
The steeping stones beneath the outcrop of Dovedale Castle were busy with many families milling about. Many of them stayed just there but more were set to keep going as I was to discover. Even the incline leading to Lover's Leap did nothing to stop them and that kind of thing usually stymies many. It probably was the littering of the slopes above the river with many rocky outcrops like Tissington Spires that was the cause of luring them further in the sunshine.
As it happened, the bridge over the Dove near Ilam Rock was conveying its share of folk across to my side of the river too. With so many about, it was easy to feel that you couldn't stop for very long or your place in the elongated stream of folk would have been lost. That limited my photographic exploits until I again met up with quieter parts beyond Milldale.
Roadside walking usually isn't the best sort, but the amazing drop-off in the number going my way made it a more relaxing endeavour. There was little traffic along the road anyway and the availability of a footway meant that there would have been no perturbation if there had been any.
Soon enough, I was back trotting through fields again. These felt unkempt with the hangover of leggy weeds from the summertime that made for more of a rustic scene than earlier. This was peaceful, normal working countryside with no chocolate box sensibility about it, even if the land still was National Trust property. All it took to find an undisturbed lunching spot was a little climb uphill and a flattish limestone perch. As I took my lunch, all that passed the way was a mere trickle of folk and that was going to be how it was from there to Hartington too.
Getting to Wolfscote Dale didn't take too long either. Crossings such as Coldeaton Bridge became a useful check on progress and I was sheltered by tree cover too. The full force of the sun also was blunted by cloud cover and the restrictions on photographic endeavour didn't trouble me after what I already had anyway. Things continued like that when I finally did go through Wolfscote Dale and the passage of time from last May was apparent in those leggy eruptions of growth that appeared over the summer. This isn't a part of the world that sees a lawnmower being used and it's all the better for that too.
By the time that I reached Beresford Dale, I had passed through three other dales: Dovedale, Milldale and Wolfscote Dale. The crossing from Beresford Lane into the latter had been repaired since my last visit when I daringly crossed the bridge with no railing at one side and signs deterring me from doing so. There were folk around too but we weren't in each other's way and I went over the bridge to continue on mine. Beresford Dale proved narrow and another crossing over the Dove was needed before I left it after me for the day.
By the time that I left Morson Wood, the clouds had released the sun again and I couldn't but feel its full power as I crossed fields around Pennilow. The heat sapped my enthusiasm for continuing and I was glad that Hartington was near at hand. The final ascent, not a major one though, took me across the track near Crossland Sides and the heat seared the approach into my memory even if it only was a short hope into Harrington and its marketplace.
If it wasn't for the heat, I might have been more tempted to continue from Hartington to Longnor or Crowdicote given that it still was early afternoon when I had arrived at what became the end of my walk for that day. While awaiting the next bus to Buxton, I witnessed a well dressing ceremony for the first-ever time. The local vicar presided (wearing sunglasses too!) so there were prayers and hymns and there was a bit of pageantry too in the form of a parade comprised of men in suits with banners (called the Oddfellows for some reason); I have no idea how they bore their attire given the heat of the day. Morris dancers were in attendance too, as were a brass band for the provision of musical accompaniment to the singing. Quite why there was a bearded bloke dressed as a witch is something I still don't know, but there were plenty of folk around the event and Hartington was big enough to more than accommodate them all with someone sorting out any passing traffic too.
All of this was over by the time the bus arrived so I had partaken of a varied day: from well frequented dales to quieter ones to sun-scorched higher pasture and a well dressing service. Seeing Dove Dale at a quieter time would be no bad idea, so that might be one for an off-season weekday with a tweak to the route too. Many of the walks in the vicinity seem to be short so it might be a matter of stitching together a few to concoct something that is a little less obvious to most. A few have crossed my gaze while surveying a map during the writing of these words. Making a little to do some route constructions would be no bad idea given what is to be found around this part of Derbyshire and Staffordshire.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 108 from Macclesfield to Ashbourne and bus service 442 from there to Thorpe for the start of the walk. From Hartington, I used bus service 442 to Buxton and bus service 58 from there to Macclesfield.
Back to Pembrokeshire
2nd January 2013 When I first visited Pembrokeshire on the first weekend in June 2006, I had no idea that it would take more than six years to get back there again. Then, I only had been a month blogging, and the terseness of the description of my weekend down there reflects this. Nowadays, my description of the ups and downs encountered between Newgale and St. David's would merit more than a little mention, though perusing the photos from that sunny summer weekend do keep my memories of how steep the drops and rises were very much alive. Similarly, the article that inspired me to go on that first trip still hasn't faded from my mind's eye either, and I might just go looking through past issues of TGO to revisit it again.
Though I only had a long weekend, I got in more than just one stretch of Pembrokeshire's coastline and its national trail. Sunday saw me take in a circular walk around Marloes, with even more rugged cliffs to be savoured. Monday may have been when I went home again, but that didn't preclude a little nibble of what lay around Newport, both the coastline and the Mynydd Preseli hills. It was but a short stop while on route to Ceredigion, but it was memorable nonetheless.
My route home saw me continue to Aberystwyth by bus before going by rail the rest of the way. That had me playing with going to see more of Pembrokeshire by reversing the route to make more again of another possible weekend stay that never came to pass. It might have been the way that I'd have gone last August, but it never entered my mind. Time's passage and my looking for a quick getaway might have had something to do with it.
Like the last time, Haverfordwest became my base and I played with different walking options with practicalities like public transport and weather governing which would be my eventual choice. Only for clouds approaching from that direction according to the weather forecast, I might have taken in the south coast between Manorbier and Bosherston. If there had been time to spend at the former's castle and the latter's lily ponds, it would have been a double bonus, but they'll need to await another visit. The Preseli Hills were another option, but I came to the conclusion that they were an escapade too far for what was a flying visit. That left the west and north-west with my looking at options around St. David's with there being a summer shuttle bus in operation. My eyes even started to follow the coastline up as far as Strumble Head, even though the distance from St. David's is no short undertaking.
While all the above threw up appealing options, I decided to trim my cloth to my measure to settle on a hike from Strumble Head to Fishguard, and it rewarded me copiously too. Of course, it helped that Sunday morning came sunny after a Saturday with plenty of wet moments. Though its situation is imperfect, Haverfordwest's castle ruins still caught my eye and became a target for photographic capture before breakfast and before my departure for Fishguard. To my mind, the photo above could have been taken in May or June, such is the green colour of the surrounding foliage. Maybe the wetness of the year we got meant that the onset of autumn became delayed.
After a little wait, a busy Strumble Shuttle bus conveyed me and others to Strumble Head while others may have gone the whole way to St. David's, a journey of around two hours along narrow country lanes. This would make good use of a day with suspect weather, but it was that of the glorious variety that I was lucky enough to have. There may have been a white cloud approaching in the distant, but its leisurely approach meant that it was no spoilsport while I was around Strumble Head, though it did end the sunny spell early in the afternoon.
Strumble Head's lighthouse is on an island called Ynys Meicel and there is a footbridge across to it. However, this was locked so no one could ramble about the spot. Even so, I went down to the bridge for a look and took in the sight of the narrow channel that it crossed while a dog started barking; apparently, he took exception to the walking poles attached to my rucksack or so his owner said. Leaving that ostensibly odd situation after me, I decided to make my way south along Carreg Onnen Bay before starting in earnest for Fishguard.
As I looked to the south, I fancied that I could discern Carn Llidi near St. David's in the distance. There still is nothing that would convince me otherwise, unless another visit were to see me proven wrong. As I went south along the joint rote of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path and the Welsh Coast Path, I lost sight of the more distance view, but there was more than enough to keep me busy in the sunshine. The path was narrow enough and others had the same idea as me, some going slower than others. Going south opens up views of the islands of Carreg Onnen and Ynys Onnen, along with keeping that of Ynys Meicel. Those of the coastline by which I was passing were attractive too with their sea-eroded wild ruggedness, and there was no trepidation intruding on the proceedings as I did so.
Because I was planning to go in the other direction, I eventually had to find a southern turning point, despite how glorious it felt. A piece of higher ground in access land near Carn Melyn did the job for me. It allowed one last panoramic view of what lay around before I retraced my steps. By the time that I reached Strumble Head's car park again, there had been a change that couldn't be missed. The approaching bank of white cloud had come much closer and was encroaching on the sun's space, too.
Before there was any more in the way of change, I set to shortening the distance to Fishguard. Given how expansive the eastward views were from there, I stopped for a bit of lunch near Carreg Gybi. Hurrying on ahead of the cloud might seem tempting to me now as I write this, but it had no bearing after what I had got from the day by then. As I was stopped, the sights of the likes of Dinas Head and Cemaes Head were within my line of sight, albeit in the far distance.
To reach those far-off places from my location would have taken several days of walking, so I was happy to enjoy the views and leave it at that. After all, there was plenty of this coastline to pass before I ended up in Fishguard again. Ups and downs lay ahead, yet they were nothing like what I met between Newgale and St. David's. There were to be twists and turns too because of the indented coastline, but I hadn't cut myself short on time and was happy to ease myself along. Each inlet was a marker of progress and there were many, many of which with names. Watercourses and muddy stretches were passed too, and the civilised world felt further than being a kilometre from a public road would suggest.
There were human intrusions aside from other walkers too. For instance, there was the house near Penryhn and the Carreg Goffa Monument commemorating the ill-fated French landing at Carregwastad Point; rough seas, drunkenness and a wily Welshwoman saw off that foreign invasion. The drop into Cwm Felin and the subsequent rise to sweep around Aber Felin may give clues as to why the landing happened there.
Beyond that site of that historical intrigue, the distance to my destination very clearly was receding. The access land of Ciliau Moor lay in surroundings that felt well isolated, even if I were to pass barking dogs just afterwards; they were on the other side of a hedge, thankfully. As my southward turning was approached, I met up with a local man going in the opposite direction who told me about a miniature Giant's Causeway around Anglas Bay that he found for the first time when he got a little lost while out on a then recent walk, though I never did confirm this for myself; my (southern) Irish accent had given me away as it always does.
Once past Crincoed Point, the breakwater of the Stena ferry harbour was growing in view. Earlier, I had seen the same ship coming and going from there, so it would have been much busier than the quiet desolation that I found on my own passing. Before reaching that lower ground, the coastal path was to take me onto tarmac again for the first time since Strumble Head. It would be tempting to think that navigation from there would be a simple matter but, if anything, it was more complex than following the coastal path while away from conurbations. The intricacy was greater than what the map could show, so it was up to signage to point out secluded pathways that dropped me from one road to another, taking me near a hotel at one point. Once over the footbridge across the railway, matters became simpler again. Passing the ferry terminal, I made for the tourist information centre to see what food might be served. However, I instead found my way to a useful public convenience and ended up at the local Tesco. My next stop was a seat in a nearby park to partake of an ice cream before going further.
The final stretch of my wandering made use of the coastal tarmacked walkway around Penyraber. It's a pleasant place to be strolling even without the sun, and seeing Fishguard's older and more sheltered harbour full of pleasure-craft made me wonder what the sight would be like if clouds hadn't filled the sky as it had. There was a bus to be caught for Haverfordwest and that was playing on my mind too, so I didn't dally. In fact, I timed things just right and had a little wait before it came. When en route, another matter of timing was brought to my attention: there was a rain shower around Wolf's Castle and hills to its west, so my hiking had stopped before the rain to get a dry day's walking. The next day came even wetter, so thinking about the blue skies and sunshine was at odds with the soaking I got on the way to Haverfordwest's train station. That won't stop me pondering a return, though.
Travel Arrangements:
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Haverfordwest, changing at Stockport on each way. Return journey on bus service 412 between Haverfordwest and Fishguard. Single journey on Strumble Shuttle (bus service 404) as far as Strumble Head.
A return to Gower
30th December 2012 The last weekend of July 2011 (a month of five weekends, incidentally, and each of them were spent away from home too) saw me make my first-ever visit to the Gower in south Wales. Though the sun gamely attempted to break through on occasions, grey skies were the dominant feature of the trip that saw me use the Heart of Wales railway line for part of my return train journey between Macclesfield and Swansea. Even without the sun, the day was a warm one with plenty of folk around too.
However, it was not a full walking trip like others that I undertake. Even so, I trotted out towards Worm's Head and returned to Rhossili, making a short loop featuring the coast as I did so. Then, I was lured up Rhossili Down towards its trig point before I scotched the brainwave of making another circuit from there in favour of a quicker return to catch a bus back to Swansea again, pondering a return as I did so.
Unlike Pembrokeshire where it took me just over six years to make a return, the Gower was to see me sooner with a visit in early August of this year. Unlike the previous trip, this was a walking outing and there was more sun about too. The hiking started off where I last left off too, with a trot over a windy Rhossili Down that completed the circuit that tempted me before. As I did so, the sun went into hiding on me behind clouds. Even so, there still were better views towards Worm's Head than in 2011.
Other folk were making the effort to gain height as I was doing so and I played with the idea of avoiding the trig point but revisited it upon reconsideration. From there, it was a matter of picking my way over Sweyne's Howes and Bessies Meadow before dropping down to Hillend Burrows. Rhossili Down is access land and seems to see a lot of footfall, so there were more paths on the ground than on the OS map, so keeping to the right of way would involve some effort if so desired; there was a strong wind so staying upright was more of a concern.
Once down a steep incline (the Down may be low, but that's never to say that it isn't steep-sided as so many are), I picked up a bridleway at Hillend Burrows for returning to Rhossili again. Initially, this went by a caravan park, but that was soon left behind me and boggy sections were set to be found too. In fact, there were none of these on the hilltop so it must have been the shelter that sustained them. The sun began to emerge from the clouds again and the heat of a scorching summer day could be felt; it left me wishing for the cooling buffeting that was my lot up high.
The path was a narrow with deviations from the main track when things got really muddy. Once past the caravan park, I began to build up some pace even with others using the right of way at the same time; the deviations came in handy for this. Once by the Old Rectory, I could see my destination was coming nearer and it was reached in less time than I had grown to expect.
The heat of the afternoon was the cause of my visiting the National Trust shop for some ice cream and a drink. While I was there, some souvenir items for others were purchased too before I sat outside to enjoy the ice cream with views back along Rhossili Bay with Rhossili Down on the right-hand side. Though I stayed a little while, it was later in the day than I had anticipated it would be. A delayed arrival due to traffic congestion and the Rhossili Down circuit perhaps taking longer than expected were contributors to this so I needed to get going again.
Port-Eynon was my next destination and I started by making my way out the busy promontory towards Worm's Head. The time of day precluded any more serious efforts to make photos of Worm's Head beyond the hazy ones that I got on the way up Rhossili Down. In fact, it was those views north along Rhossili Bay that yielded the best results for me.
My itinerary was to take me south-east and away from the terminus of the Gower Way. Another development since my last visit to Gower was the instatement of the Welsh Coast Path, though it has been in place long enough for some of the signage to have fallen prey to the elements, so careful use of a map is needed in places too. Some of its course already had been sampled on my Rhossili Down circuit and there was to be more to come. Being along the coast gained me a cooling sea breeze that was strong enough for kite flying and some enthusiasts were making the most of the conditions on offer.
Passing them, I began to see some of the coastal scenery that I was to pass after leaving Worm's Head behind me. From reading guidebooks, I knew that this was worth walking and it reminded me of that previous visit to Pembrokeshire some years before. Such is the indentation of the coastline that the sights of Rhossili and nearby Middleton weren't to leave me so quickly. There was a path diversion due to erosion too and recent coastal landslips due to all the rain that we have been seeing make me wonder if more have been needed since then.
In the initial stages, there were a good few folk around, but there was to be more in the way of solitude later on in the walk. Many of these may have been on circular strolls and those can be left behind to go their own way. So, it appeared after passing Fall Bay and doing the same for Mewslade Bay meant an inland deviation and attendant loss and regain of height that reminded me of a hike from Newgale to St. David's that I did on that Pembrokeshire trip; this yomp was to have less of that, though.
With the last of the undulations behind me, it was onto steady field crossing on the way towards Overton. Cloud had arrived from the west to put an end to the sunshine and gave a sense of close-down to the proceedings as well as a warning of what rain was to come. As I continued in the dullness, there seemed to be more footpath signs than my OS map gave me to expect and I have not been able to see where the paths were leading since then.
In time, field crossing was to be replaced with rocky shoreline walking as the Welsh Coast Path lost height to go under Overton Cliff and along Overton Mere. This section felt wilder and more dramatic than any other part that I had passed all day and would make a worthy excuse for a return sometime; Port-Eynon seemed very away at this point. There was a bell to be heard too and I thought it to be a church bell in that village but I was being deceived. It was but one atop a buoy bobbing out in the sea that could be heard all around. An outsider with easily disturbed slumbering would have some acclimatisation to be doing. That apparent reassurance that I was really near my intended destination had been but a mirage.
In fact, I wasn't that far away either; one last ascent was to prove that to me. Though I needed to keep going, curiosity had me surveying a monument erected by the Gower Society to commemorate efforts to preserve the surrounding coastline. From there, I then dropped down towards the YHA hostel and trotted across the beach to the roundabout at the Port-Eynon end of the A4118. Following the road from there, I found my bus stop with a few folk waiting there, one of them being a Welshman wearing a kilt!
Having others waiting at the bus stop was comforting because it meant that I hadn't missed a bus, but the wait was to be a long one that extended into dusk. The earlier traffic congestion that I met on the way to Rhossili was the cause of delaying bus services even more by the time that I was going away again. There even was a call to First Cymru to make sure that buses still were running and it was just as well that I had a mobile that worked in Port-Eynon; O2 and Vodafone didn't while T-Mobile and Orange did. That bus did arrive before any rain though and that was just as well since thunder and lightning arrived around midnight and stayed for most of an hour in the sultry early hours.
Even with any traffic congestion, the Gower remains alluring for me. Seeing what is around Port-Eynon again with some sunshine would be a good thing and there's Oxwich Bay and Three Cliffs Bay (the latter's near Penmaen) to be savoured too. As well as this, catching Worm's Head at a better time for photography would be another draw and there's the Gower Way and other parts of the AONB to be experienced too. All in all, there are ample excuses for making a return sometime. Let's hope one actually happens.
Travel Arrangements:
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Swansea, with a change at Bristol Parkway on the outbound journey and at both Cardiff Central and Birmingham New Street on the return one. Bus service 118 from Swansea to Rhossili and travel on the same service from Port-Eynon to Swansea.
A catch-up on Irish walking magazines and books
25th December 2012 Recently, I got the opportunity to survey the current editions of both Walking World Ireland and Irish Mountain Log. The first of these is a magazine that I have featured on here a few times before, while the latter may be new to regular readers of these musings. It is published by Mountaineering Ireland, the Irish answer to the British Mountaineering Council, on a quarterly basis and does feature some articles that catch my eye. Those pertaining to clubs and climbing usually are those over which I skip but others such as an example entry from the perhaps overly grandiosely titled Irish Peaks Guidebook, a West of Ireland hill country photo essay from Adrian Hendroff, an article about a Pyrenean nature walk and others about the spirit of the sorts of special places in which all of us outdoors lovers love to immerse ourselves.
Walking World Ireland puts out its Annual around this time of year and the 2013 one is out now. There is no year planner inserted into the current one as there used to be in years gone by. Lists of walking festivals and organisations still have a place though and there is an index like there often is for these. Interestingly, the usual route articles are excerpts from a series of guides from Collins Press about which I say more later. Usually, we see similar contributions from Dennis, Gill, Tom Hutton, Gareth McCormack and Helen Fairbarn but that's not the case this time around. Loop Walks also seem not to have a place like they have had in recent issues. Otherwise, it's all the customary sort of content that you'd expect along with articles looking further afield than Ireland. Still, the differences seen in the Annual make me wonder what is set to come in the first actual issue of 2013.
Collins Press seem to be on their way to become the Cicerone or Frances Lincoln (the latter is particularly appropriate for this comparison since their outdoors publishing only seems to have commenced with their taking on Wainwright's guides) of Irish walking guide publishing. Like the latter publishing house, they do produce much more than just walking books. Most of these are available as what they call "Limpback" editions, like a hardback but with something of the paperback feel. The range of subjects includes: Carrauntoohil & MacGillycuddy's Reeks; Connemara & Mayo; Donegal, Sligo & Leitrim; Ireland's County High Points; Northern Ireland; Scenic Walks in Killarney; Scenic Walks in West Cork; The Burren & the Aran Islands; The Dingle, Iveragh & Beara Peninsulas; Tipperary & Waterford. There is a good range available with the Dublin & Wicklow Mountains being the only stand-out omission, but time may see that addressed yet. The guides seem to be temptingly presented so it might make a good excuse for a visit somewhere for me to try out one of the books for size to see what it opens up for a walker in Ireland's pleasing hill country; this is but one of the excuses that I should make a reality. Let's hope that they see success with these and that more get to experience the delights of Irish hill country too.
All of the above are set to be illuminating once I get around to setting aside some time to go further than cursory glances. The Kindle version of the Irish county high points (why not just call them tops?) guide has made it into my possession already and needs more consultation like the aforementioned magazines. After all, it amazes me to see how many Irish counties shared their highest hills with others; Limerick and Tipperary are far from being the only ones (the Munro-class Galtymore is the one that they share). There may be more Irish entries on the trip ideas page here yet.
Another pair of TNF Hedgehog shoes
14th November 2012 For the last four years, I have been well served by a pair of The North Face Hedgehog trail shoes. They may look more tatty these days but they have plenty of life left in them yet and I am not planning on retiring them prematurely either. Good service and durability has been what they have given so I have no complaints. In fact, they feel more like slippers than some footwear that I have and the shoes that I use for work come into this category.
The past two weekends have seen me head to Knutsford and Tatton Park on consecutive Saturdays. The first of these wasn't so successful in that blundering in the name of finding another entrance to that park resulted in a misadventure involving barbed wire that ripped a coat and had me inadvertently find the source of Tatton Mere. In so doing, I submerged my TNF Hedgehogs in utterly sodden earth and left them both wetter and browner than they should be. Only for a wrong turn taken in innocence and some bloody-mindedness, I would have avoided annoyance at my foolishness.
By the time that I was along the track through Dog Wood with warning signs to keep to its course because of the bog of water that makes it a Site of Special Scientific Interest; there apparently aren't that many sodden woodlands in Britain and I had to blunder about in one of them... As it happens, it isn't so unsound away from that track but it's best to stay near it in my experience.
The sunlit scenes for which I was hoping were stymied by advancing shower clouds but I rounded Tatton Mere regardless and pottered into a few of Knutsford's shops too. There were those into which I didn't venture and one was Rohan. Looking at the window display, I noted that they have DWR-coated down jackets on offer this winter and I was wondering if such items were available last winter. The fill is 800+ too so they should be toasty and I cannot say that I am not tempted. However, online investigations revealed that the price tag is a little hefty at around £245 for the Nightfall jacket so I'll sit on the idea for a little longer.
As if to wash my shoes, a rain shower did make its appearance before I left again for home. On arriving there, the Hedgehogs got a good scrubbing to make them more presentable. Then, because of the deliberate and not so deliberate wettings, they took a few days to completely dry afterwards. Even with any mud that I failed to remove, they look more like their true colours again so they're not getting hidden away just yet. In fact, there were a pair of Columbia trail shoes that came apart on me after crossing a wet Irish hillside so the way that the Hedgehogs survived the aberrant episode says a lot for their quality.
Nevertheless, I got to reckon that a more respectable pair might be a worthwhile acquisition and so around £100 got me newer ones by mail order from Ellis Brigham that look like the one you see above. The colours have changed since I last looked and the demure blue and grey scheme of the older specimens that I have is not available any more, hardly a surprise if truth be told. Still, the available colours left me indecisive as to which ones to pick. The black ones weren't to my taste and I wasn't too sure about the grey and khaki ones either, though subsequent inspection in the Macclesfield branch of Millets would have reassured me enough to get ones in that scheme if I had looked there earlier. Still, the blue ones look just fine and I'll stick with them.
More importantly, the fit is good too and shoes from The North Face tend to suit my feet anyway. They feel stiffer than the older pair, but that could be down to years of using the latter. The same might apply to any little restrictions that my big toes feel in the new shoes. There will be a little more internal wearing in yet before they go out of doors, which, of course, is the whole point of having them.
The thread pattern is more chunky in the new Hedgehogs and that's a good thing given how the smaller lugs were prone to breaking off on my older ones; both generations may have Vibram soles but they are very different items. Laces are flat now and not round as they once were so lacing should be more secure. The newer lacing may pick up more mud, but I have been known to wash laces and they enclosed in socks; it may sound strange, but that's how I cleaned those (third-party replacements for the originals, as it happens) of the older shoes after that muddy dunking and they came out looking fine too.
In the main, I keep trail shoes for less taxing walks and it was my Meindl Burma boots that I took on my second more successful outing to Tatton Park. The previous day's rain had softened the ground and not just in watersheds either. There was a muddy encounter when leaving the park, so my choice of footwear seemed better than my choice of trousers; it was nothing that a washing machine couldn't sort. There was plenty of sun around before then and I made of the most of what it did to liven up the autumn colours. Dog Wood and Tatton were passed again and I moved on towards Tatton Old Hall before being lured across parkland alongside herds of deer. Antlers may have been on display, but there was more grazing than autumnal rutting and quiet than guttural roars, whenever there wasn't a passing plane from Manchester Airport of course (the newer runaway is not that far away from Tatton). Though the second trip undid the nagging unfinished business after the first, it produced its own reasons for a reprise of some sort: a new vantage point for making a photo of Tatton Hall was found but only after light started declining for the day. After recent experiences, it may not act as a testing ground for those new shoes until we have had a longer dry spell of weather first. Lessons are there to be learned though being a less messy learner would better.
