Category: Europe
Revisiting the Howgill Fells
11th November 2012 Compared to the Lake District, this part of Cumbria has seen me nowhere near as often. In fact, my visits to Sedbergh can be counted using the fingers on one hand with two left unused by the calculation. The first time was at the end of a walk from Ribblehead train station that skirted the side of Whernside before dropping down to pick up the Dales Way that took me past Dent on a hot day in July. That afternoon was a quiet one with a football match involving the English national team drawing folk into whatever pubs are to be found there. The passing of the last bus of the day before my arrival meant a taxi to Kirkby Stephen that showed me more of a flavour of the peaceful countryside that is typical of the area.
My second visit was a snowy affair and took me up the slopes to venture onto the foothills of the Howgills themselves rather than skirting them as before. That white covering may have limited my movements as much as the limited extent of the December daylight. It made up for that in the bright sunshine with the vistas that lay about me and the Lakeland fells glistened too in the distance. It was a fabulous from atop the modest top of Winder before I descended from there to follow an indirect course that had me confounded at one point (I could have done without shouted insolent directions from a quad bike rider on a nearby road, though).
My incursion last July was set to disturb no one and it started with sunshine and blue skies, albeit ones littered with clouds too. It wasn't set to stay that way though and cloud had completed its takeover of the sky by the time that I really was up among the tops and later photographic efforts got stymied by that obstruction of the sun. However, that's not to say that there weren't advantages to what happened. July's sunshine can be warm so that change in fortunes made for cooler walking, never a bad thing.
That was in the future as I made my way out of Sedbergh even if clouds got in the sun's way at one point as I did so. Picking my way along the dead-end road, I noticed the signs at various junctions highlighting the way to the fells. These seemed handmade affairs, so the locals must have had lost folk going around their patch instead of where they should have been heading. At the end of the road, it was time to take a footpath towards Settlebeck Gill with Winder to my left. A little height had been gained but more was to come, and the views opened out as I did so.
The right of way ended at the wall separating Sedbergh's commonage from other parts. This now is Open Access land so it didn’t matter that the way to the saddle between Winder and Arant Haw wasn't a right of way. That didn't mean that I wasn't using a well trodden path though and it even was distinct when I last used it. The, it was covered well with snow, so the surroundings looked so different this time around as I gained height: green instead of white. The going was steep though and plenty of stops were afforded to take advantage of the sunshine for some photography. After all, there was the steep cutting made by Settlebeck Gill between Crook Hill and the aforementioned Winder.
Hills other than the Howgill Fells were on show too. Whernside, one of Yorkshire's Three Peaks, cannot be overlooked, although its southern position makes it tricky for midday photographic exploits. Therefore, I contented myself with views towards the Garsdale hills and not too shabby did they look either. It's been a while since I have been that way so it might be an idea to make a return at some stage again.
The Howgill Fells may not be as high as some, but that's not to say that they aren't steep sided. Anyone starting out from Sedbergh will discover that for themselves. However, that gradient does level off once you get up so far and, on my path, the going got a bit boggy when it did so too. Given how much rain had fallen since April, that came as no surprise to me. As I left the banks of the gill, Arant Haw came into view and I noticed something else too: a sheet of cloud approaching from the west that just kept going. Before that made its impact known, I spotted another sight that had a certain wonder about it: a spring burst forth to fill a pool and start a steam on its downward trajectory. This must be how some rivers rise.
By the time that I reached the saddle between Winder and Arant Haw, the day had become a cloudy one and that was how it was set to stay. While I might have liked some sun for more pleasing photos of more central Howgill Fells, capturing the sorts of scenes that I have glimpsed from trains before then, that was not to be. Undeterred, my walk continued and I deviated from the right of way to go over the top of Arant Haw, a sloping flat-topped affair. It was only then that I started to encounter any other fell wanderers after a silent solitary ascent from Sedbergh. Still, there weren't so many about and that was how it was set to be.
Leaving Arant Haw returned me to the bridleway again and saw me losing of that height I had gained. The ascent had been noticeable but far from overwhelming, but leaving Rowantree Grains, the saddle before Calders, involved a rather steeper ascent to the top of my next hill. Taking things steady was all that was needed and I found folk lunching atop Calders so I didn't delay, just to leave them in peace. My target anyway was The Calf and I was happy not be so far away from there.
Usefully, it was a matter of tackling relative undulations to get to the Calf. The gradients encountered while skirting Bram Rigg Top didn't prove to be at all taxing and there was another saddle to be crossed before the trig point marking the top of The Calf was reached. That may have meant loss of height and subsequent regain, but this was minor compared with some that you'd find; for instance, the central Brecon Beacons come to my mind here.
Folk must reach The Calf from starting points other than Sedbergh because I found more here than anywhere else on my trot. Subsequent perusals of issues of TGO have revealed one or two of these and they might have future uses. It still felt odd to find more folk away from habitation than near it, though.
As tempting as it might have been to continue walking deeper into the Howgill Fells from there, I decided to turn around at the Calf in the interests of making sure that it wasn't a rush back to Sedbergh to be in time for a bus back to Oxenholme train station. The fact that I found myself with ample time meant I could fit in some deviations from the outbound route. The first of these took me around some tarns on the top of the Calf before crossing some tussocky boggy ground to reach the saddle separating it from Bram Rigg Top.
On reaching the saddle, I stopped for some lunch before deciding to find the top of Bram Rigg Top. That wasn't so easy how flat-topped the hill is but I returned to the bridleway again after believing that I found it. The sun gamely battle with the cloud cover to brighten my surroundings and I stopped to see what I could do with what was on offer. My efforts now look more like record shots, so this could be an excuse to return.
Once the sun had given up on its efforts, I continued to a now quieter Calders before descending it again. My next passing point was Arant Haw, though I chose to stay on the bridleway skirting its side rather than going over its top again. More height loss followed, and shaggy horses came into sight. Though the lack of other folk might lead one to think otherwise, these creatures were far from being spooked by any passing stranger, even a journeying Irishman. Better lighting could have had me making more of them with a photo but I left my efforts to rest with a record shot.
Another deviation followed in the return to the top of Winder where its hill identification plaque awaited me. Another soul was about too but passed on before I was reaching the top to get in five hills in a single day. After looking around me for a little while, I retraced my steps to pick up a bridleway that lead to Lockbank Farm though I was descending the slopes of Winder itself. Steep ground wasn't to be escaped though and overcaution with time caused a premature descent that made it steeper than it should have been. While folk were in the farmyard below me, I negotiated the last steep section that took me back on the right of way again without any complaint from there; my knees were similarly understanding too for a change and they aren't always thus. It was an unplanned use of my right to roam in these parts.
With folk tending sheep in the farmyard through which the right of way passes, I decided not to disturb them and followed a path east along a wall instead. This returned me to that public footpath that I had used earlier to get to the Open Access land. On reaching the road end, I noticed that hens were out and about with a cockerel with them too. Speeding cars clearly don't go this way.
My return to Sedbergh was well before when my bus was to run so I could linger awhile. That extra time was used for ablutions and a little shopping for essentials. There were quite a few folk about the place too, more than I had encountered on previous visits if my memory isn't fooling me. Cafés were open too and it seemed set to be more of a lively evening in the town; hotel rooms were available and I would have been tempted but for my course being set. There was a chippy too and it was doing good business. The smell of its wares was enough to get me finding out why, as unhealthy as this kind of eating is. While I am no foodie, the batter that encased the fish was the best tasting that I'd ever found and the chips weren't bad either. More time on the hill would have been healthier than this indulgence, but the good might have been undone by any rushing. Sometimes, it's best to keep things relaxing.
For those photos that are to my tastes, a return to the Howgill Fells probably is in order. Since my day up there, that later bus which came in so handy no longer runs, so a hotel stay would not only make the trip more feasible but also allow me to spend a little more time in the area. The summer of 2012 also saw a good bus service linking Sedbergh with Dent train station on the Settle to Carlisle railway line. That might offer possibilities if it were to make a return next year. Before plotting any return to this corner of the Yorkshire Dales National Park though, I'll have a look at what the available travel options might be; they surprised me in 2012 and may do so again.
Travel Arrangements
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Oxenholme; outbound journey took me by Kidsgrove and Crewe while changes were at Preston and Manchester on the way home. Bus service 564 between Oxenholme and Sedbergh.
Taking a longer way home
28th October 2012 The Bollin Valley Way is one of those long-distance trails that aren't marked on any OS map that I have encountered. Most do get recognition at some point, but this one seems not to have got it so far. Given that, it's just as well that good waymarking is a feature of much of its length so as not to have one using an incorrect right of way. However, it is prone to river bank erosion and that saw me confounded at one point on an evening walk last June.
Getting stuck on a bus that took around two hours that should not have taken it longer than forty minutes can put ideas into your head. The cause was a closure of the M6 that forced everyone onto the section of the A34 and traffic ground to a halt because of it. The sight of a Megabus coach going through Wilmslow was a hint of what was coming and there was no Alderley Edge bypass then.
Then, a bicycle ride would have got me from Wilmslow to Macclesfield is less than an hour. However, the length of time taken had me thinking of another option: walking. One winter's afternoon saw me following the Bollin Valley Way from Macclesfield and I was surprised at how quickly I got to Wilmslow after a lunchtime start. After catching a bus, it still was daylight when I got home. So, it wasn't that mad an alternative to being on a bus for two hours at all.
At my previous place of employment, there were times when even the longer hours of daylight in late April and early May were enough to get me trotting through the countryside on the way home after a day's work. Those escapades had me using a variety of rights of way that included sections of the North Cheshire Way as well as the aforementioned Bollin Valley Way.
Placing all of the above thoughts together, I got my act together of an evening this past June and started my evening stroll by the Bollin in The Carrs, a riverside park in Wilmslow, using part of the North Cheshire Way. There was road walking by the town's old Anglican church and the war memorial garden before crossing under the railway viaduct and the town's A34 bypass. Negotiating that lot finally landed me in pasture with soft earth underfoot again, always a good prospect.
Though the path that I was following was not itself a right of way, but that did nothing to stop any others from using it. In fact, there were plenty of joggers about and I was wondering if I was holding them up by being there. Even a stop to survey a weir was not used by them as a means for getting past me, something that surprised me a little at the time.
On the approach to Vardon Bridge, that path joined a public footpath and it was only on crossing the road near that bridge that I finally left any joggers after me. Though I may have hoped for fewer clouds, there were enough to ensure that any episodes of sunlight were fleeting. As I continued eastwards along the public footpath, there were a few of these moments. Stops in fields full of sheep or cattle needed to be fleeting since animals can get curious, not that I ever dawdled long enough for that to manifest itself.
There were plenty of twists and turns to keep me on my toes before I got as far as Newton Farm. There was a woodland crossing that wasn't expected from my map before that of a meadow. For whatever reason, the public footpath crosses a lawn at Newton Farm but it caused no disturbance and that's always nice. The footpath leading to Mottram Bridge was found too and I was there in good time.
However, river erosion wasn't to help my cause as the course of the suggested diversion left me uncertain enough to return to Mill Lane again and go by road again before picking up another footpath after Willot Hall that took me to another section of the North Cheshire Way near Top o' th' Hill. That deposited me at a footbridge and crossing it put me on the Bollin Valley Way again. All that took up time and I have it in mind to go having a look at the lie of the land when I have a longer stretch of time to do so. Avoiding walking along a busy road would be a bonus too.
The rest of the way was familiar to me since quite a few walks have taken me that way. Normally, a sewage works wouldn't be welcome but it was an unmissable landmark and I needed that after the earlier bout of cold feet near Mottram Bridge. The only drama on the way to Prestbury was a fallen tree that blocked the path. It resulted in a tip-off to a Cheshire East Council ranger that saw it removed on a day that was wet enough to make most of us take cover.
Getting through Prestbury and then to Macclesfield has become so familiar to me that I scarcely need a map to do so. That the right of way stops part way between both places hardly mattered since a well-used path on council land took up the slack. Any Longhorn cattle that were out in pasture or any dog walkers using later stages of the same riverside park did nothing to perturb my delayed course home.
The longer days of midsummer ensure that I still was home before dark, so having a longer walk was no problem. Like many a good walk, there is an excuse for a reprise. Seeing what paths go where around Mottram Bridge and Mill Farm would be good. That errand probably needs a mind that hasn't been tired by a day at work too and would make a good use for one of the shorter days of winter that are coming to us.
A weekend of Scottish reconnaissance
24th October 2012 June's Diamond Jubilee holiday weekend with its two public holidays needed using and I picked a hotel in Pitlochry as my base away from home. Getting there did involve more effort than catching scheduled trains but it proved worth the outlay. Not only did I get to spend more time taking in the sights around the town where I had located myself but I managed to leave it to head into some hill country too. With other parts of Britain seeing rain, it would have been rude not to make good use of whatever opportunities that made themselves available to me like they did.
Pitlochry
A feature of my stay this time around was that mornings were spent pottering around Pitlochry before heading somewhere else. This included the Tuesday that I was leaving for home but it was Sunday morning that started the trend. For one thing, I needed to attend to a few necessities prior to the day's walk along the shores of Loch Ericht. The later getaway also allowed some time for walking by the River Tummel. That I had found a quick way to get there from the town centre on a post evening meal stroll the evening before helped too as did fleeting episodes of sunshine
In fact, it was the Pitlochry end of the Rob Roy Way that took me down to the river banks and across a disconcertingly bouncy suspension bridge, especially when other folk were using it at the same time as me. Once on the other side, I was reminded of the last walk of my last time around Pitlochry in July 2006. That took in the top of Ben Vrackie before I dropped down to Killiecrankie, from where I made for the eastern side of Loch Faskally. There was a lot of cloud around that day too though it did attempt to clear as the day wore on. That eventually took me by the hydroelectric generating station though I never crossed the dam for some reason and continued on by road to my then lodgings.
This time around, I was lured as far as the dam and took in the views north along Loch Faskally. As I did so, there were surprising plops; salmon were emerging from their ladder into the loch. It certainly was a memorable sight to see a large fish ever so briefly emerging from the water. It just felt like experiencing nature in the raw. For those wanting a more manicured experience, there's a visitor centre where television pictures of the chamber where salmon reside before going on their time-honoured way upriver, repeating a feat that has gone on for millennia. You may see more on that television screen but it also poses a question: why civilise the experience? That a fish ladder was included as part of the dam's construction is a display of the sort of enlightenment of which many of us would like to see more. It certainly would have helped defuse uneasiness about the construction of a hydroelectric power station in some quarters. The station now seems to fit well within its surroundings these days but I am left wondering what feelings about it were when it first was proposed.
Quite apart from denying myself the sight of leaping salmon, not crossing over that dam in July 2006 was the cause of my missing out on more sights. Looking back along Loch Faskally would have been one of them but there was another: a view of Ben Vrackie itself and one largely without the encumbrance of human constructions. If this had been presented to me back on that earlier trip, I wonder if I might have come away home feeling more satisfied than I did; it was as if I had savoured a little of a variety of different things without really sating myself with any or all of them. That proved not to be the case this time around.
In fact, it took a few tries to get the photo that you see above. That serendipitous sight on Sunday morning drew me back again on those of Monday and Tuesday. As it happened, it was the last of these when clouds kept out of the sun's way enough for me to make something of what lay before. That I didn't have similar luck with Loch Faskally is no irritation but rather a reason to return. Hopefully, that takes less than six years, unlike the last one.
Loch Ericht
Back on that summer 2006 trip to Pitlochry, I got in what now seems like plenty of decent walking: from Kinloch Rannoch through the hills and along by Loch Errochty to Trinafour, following the Rob Roy Way from Kenmore on the shore of Loch Tay to Aberfeldy and that aforementioned circular walk around Pitlochry itself that took in Ben Vrackie, the Pass of Killiecrankie and the shore of Loch Faskally. A grey day spent in the rough around Newtonmore was another walk that I got in while up. This sounds a lot so I am left wondering how I left without feeling a greater degree of satisfaction from it all. Was I expecting too much?
After all, this was an area that I then hardly knew and much of it remains largely unfrequented by myself even now. Maybe it might have been better to settle with getting to know it a little more before embarking on longer walks. The getaway was a last-minute one too, so there wasn't much of the advance planning that took me to the Western Isles and back in August 2008. If there was more of that, there wouldn't been any chance for drowning in the many possibilities that the area offers. Sometimes, it can feel like an impossibility to decide between these, though weather ironically can make that task easier too.
Another item that might have helped on this year's escapade may sound a strange one: a laptop PC that I had brought with me for the weekend. For one reason or another, my planning prior to leaving for Pitlochry was limited. It might have work-induced weariness that made me go for basing myself somewhere and then taking things from there in the first place. It was that Saturday evening in Pitlochry that it came into its own for sorting out possible places to go and their travel logistics. That isn't to say that I went away without any plans in mind because the prospect of walking the Rob Roy Way from Aberfeldy to Pitlochry did come to mind. In the end, other places shone more brightly for me even if the sun struggled to do its business at times.
One of the those was Loch Ericht the idea of going there for a walk first came to mind during that trip in 2006. ScotRail's being hit with a strike then was one of the considerations that worked against it. Since then, I have played with travelling to Dalwhinnie overnight from home (Caledonian Sleeper train service, more than likely), enjoying a walk around there and heading off to somewhere like Aviemore or Pitlochry to stay the night. That would have allowed a short weekend raid but it never came to pass. The more conventional approach of finding somewhere to stay and enjoying a day walk using that base was what did the trick.
Though it started with some promise, Sunday was to be a dry day with largely cloudy skies where I was. Even that was a stroke of luck because so many other parts of Britain weren't that lucky; wet weather greeted many setting about enjoying jubilee celebrations so I only could be grateful. Even the greyness of the day as I left the Citylink coach from Pitlochry did nothing to detract me; a walk was in order and one was about to happen.
Leaving the side of the A9, I traipsed along the A889 towards Dalwhinnie. The atmosphere even here was quiet and peaceful and there was a gently flowing river not far from me either. This was the watercourse that gave the glen its name: Truim. That the road wasn't so busy made the walking less taxing and I was in Dalwhinnie without much delay though I hardly wasn't pushing myself. The surrounding hills could have done with a spot of sun to enliven their appearances but it was not hard to imagine how they might have looked.
There is a sign on the way into Dalwhinnie professing services like accommodation and catering, but there was not much of that to be seen as I made out the way to the train station. It was just as well that I hadn't depended on having these. As I was passing the train station, I decided to double-check train times and platforms for the evening return journey before making for the vehicle track leading to Loch Ericht.
As I was setting off towards this, I retained an open mind as to how far I would be going along the side of Loch Ericht, mostly because of the amount of time that I had available to me. Also, the loch is of the long narrow variety so going its full length needs a multi-day backpacking outing that would take one by Loch Rannoch, again not a small body of water, before civilisation is reached again at Kinloch Rannoch.
Of course, Scotland seems to offer plenty of these large lochs and multi-day excursions into the hill country in which they are to be found. Loch Eilde Mor near Kinlochleven, Loch Shiel near Glenfinnan and Loch Etive are but two more possibilities that I have pondered. With those, I also have gone with out and back itineraries so far, but things may proceed from there. My visit to Loch Ericht was to follow the same out and back pattern and the fact that this was a first visit made it more sensible to do so.
While plodding a vehicle track and with grey skies over me for much of the way may sound like a disappointment for anyone seeking blue skies and sunshine, there were some advantages given the time of year. After all, those weather conditions come with hot temperatures and cooler ones better suit walking. There was also a calm stillness in the air that more than made up for the overcast conditions and, without very many folk going my way, it was possible to chill out and pace myself and that exactly is what is needed as an antidote to the frenzy of a modern working life.
On the outbound leg, a lunching stop was enjoyed and I got as far as the gates of Ben Alder Lodge before turning around. By then, folk were returning from their own hill wandering escapades on bicycles of various kinds. The wheeled approach to travelling around there sounds very useful if you want to make more of your day in the hills; the likes of Ben Alder itself take time to ascend so it is easy to see why this is done. Maybe, a wheeled Scottish hill country incursion of my own would be no bad idea either. It's been quite a while since I enjoyed one of those.
Cloud cover was beginning to break over me as I retraced my steps. The success of the sun's efforts at lighting the countryside turned out to be patchy to say the least. Still, they did provide hints of how things might look if the pesky clouds melted away. If they did so, my journey back to Dalwhinnie may have taken that little bit longer and I wouldn't have had as much time for awaiting the train that I needed for returning to Pitlochry as I had. Maybe it was better that I had that extra time anyway since it was the last southbound train of the day and I doubt that coach services ran later anyway. A return seems in order, though.
Glen Tilt
Having passed Blair Atholl on my Scottish travels a fair few times, it was time for a visit since plenty of hills lay beyond the distinctive white Blair Castle. Before taking a look at those, my first priority on arrival was to see if I could make use of the bright sunshine to make a photo of Blair Atholl itself. Having seen it from a passing coach the previous day, I popped up the road a little to have a look at it over an estate wall. In the time that it had taken for a good viewpoint to be found, the clouds that lay in the sky overhead got in the way of the sun. Having some time to hand, I decided to wait for them to let it out again. In time, they did just that though I do wonder if the whiteness of the lower part of the sky caused me to make the subject of my photographic exertions a little too small in the frame due to my wanting some blue sky in there. Scotland might be wanting to draw me back hereabouts again; any excuse is good.
Retracing my steps into the village, I was on the lookout for an entrance to the Atholl Estate that I spied on my map. However, it proved to be the ornate main entrance that I needed to use. There were signs of car camping in the fields to either side of the main avenue. There was another avenue that I was set to take but I went closer to the castle to see if there were any signs up that listed visitor tariffs, but none were to be seen even though they clearly were charging incoming cars at a booth; maybe I should have been looking on the web first...
Retracing my steps, I noticed an extra degree of heat that was absent on my visit to Loch Ericht the day before. That particularly was apparent when I joined the avenue that I needed to use to head towards Glen Tilt and I donned a brimmed hat that I bought in Capel Curig in 2010 and has gone with me on a few trips since then. The estate "bus", a tractor and trailer with seats on the latter under a roof, passed me with a few folk on board as I went on my way and I relished whatever shelter the trees had to offer.
Crossing a public road, I walked through open gates to start along a track leading to Glen Tilt. There were warnings about steep drops into the gorge where the River Tilt was flowing but embracing those dangers would have involved real effort, as I was to find. My surroundings were still tended but felt ever more rural as I continued with the River Tilt below me, hence those earlier warnings. Onward views contained bare hillsides and gave me an early taste of what lay further along.
Another way of looking at those warning signs was that they were meant for the impatient who wanted to get to the banks of the River Tilt at the earliest opportunity. Of course, there is a safer way: taking one's time and following the main vehicle track. That there's no sense in rushing around in these alluring surroundings should be another hint, but some aren't as open to that as they should be.
Rushing the experience wasn't part of my plan and I found myself crossing the first of several bridges, Cumhann-leum, in Glen Tilt without too much time elapsing at all. Beyond there, the Tilt was to remain in sight for much of the time and Gilbert's Bridge became a worthwhile diversion with the sun out. The photo that you see above is but one of the results of my dawdling. The conifer-clad slopes almost gave me a sense of parts of the world where I have been: American wildernesses.
Ironically, for all that, there wasn't much more in the way of forest through which I was to walk. After that, the sort of bare hillsides that draw me to Scotland time after time took over. Settlements such as Auchglobal were passed as I continued towards my turning point of Marble Lodge, a simple wooden hut despite the pretensions of its name. Handing checked on train and bus times, I could have gone beyond that but thought it best not to overdo things on a first incursion. Also, the sky overhead me was so shuttered with clouds that it almost felt like an end of service for the day. That, and the distance to Braemar where a walk along Glen Tilt eventually would lead after an overnight wild camping stopover, made turning around not feel premature at all. The day had been good to me and it wasn't going to stop there.
In fact, the walk wasn't going to be a straight out and back affair like that along Loch Ericht the day before. The closure of the gates of Blair castle by the time that I would have reached them saw to that. My own curiosity and the times of trains helped too because I started to drift off the track onto any interesting diversionary path that I met. One of these took me around the back of Auchglobal and landed me on tarmac again near Kincraigie. There was an idea of returning to the original vehicle track that I used but it never happened and I ended up enjoying a quiet track largely to myself; only one other soul went the way and I using it and he was going in the opposite direction. The main track wasn't exactly overrun, but this one felt far nicer.
The road walking from Kincraigie down to Fenderbridge and the Old Bridge of Tilt wasn't that unkind either and there were views over Blair Castle and the surrounding countryside that would have me reaching for my camera if the skies were less full of cloud. An off-road path by the River Tilt was sought and found for one last trot on a softer surface before I emerged in Blair Atholl again. Cloudy skies had no effect on my mood and I happily awaited the local bus to Pitlochry and there was more than I at the stop too, a reassuring sign given that it was running late.
In some ways, the day had felt more like a normal working one than the public holiday that allowed me to make my getaway. Trains were working to normal weekday timetables and buses did the same. Also, I spotted folk checking on the wildlife and checking on the water quality too. For all that, there was nothing that shattered the peaceful atmosphere, even if a rifle range lay not so far away from where I was walking. That alone should be enough encouragement to return. Before I ever do so, more pouring over maps will be needed since this is big countryside with long trails through it. The comment applies to that around Loch Ericht and I now wonder it that was what left me feeling the way I did in July 2006; that there is so much that multiple sittings are needed to make the most of the hill country around Perthshire.
That did nothing to dampen the good that the long weekend did me. Restrained ambitions and an open mind ensured that was the way that things went. Given that, a return is in order. Maybe sometime not too far into the future? Of course, only time will answer that.
Travel Arrangements
Ostensibly by rail from Macclesfield to Pitlochry with changes at Manchester, Carlisle and Edinburgh. An overly busy train from Manchester had me leaving it in Preston and a fatality on the line near Leyland disrupted the journey such that there was a train journey to Lancaster, a coach from there to Oxenholme and a train from there to Edinburgh. After that, things were as planned apart from later travelling.
Travel from Pitlochry to Dalwhinnie (A9 road end) was by Scottish Citylink coach service M91 and a train returned me to base again.
Travel from Pitlochry to Blair Atholl was by Scottish Citylink coach service M91 with local bus service 83 used for the return.
Otherwise, travel from Pitlochry to Macclesfield was by train all the way, with changes at Edinburgh and Manchester. Apart from a delay due to a bridge strike, this ran more smoothly than the outbound journey.
Why go elsewhere when there are good things nearby?
9th October 2012 The past few weekends have seen me enjoy walks through some local countryside. For instance, Sunday saw me drop from the Cat and Fiddle Inn into the Goyt Valley before walking along its length as far as Whaley Bridge. Skies may have filled with cloud as I went and much mud may have been encountered, but that reminder from last January while on another walk from the same starting point that landed me in Buxton at its end was set to prove its worth and I wouldn't mind having another hike around there either.
The Saturday of the previous weekend came up sunny too, and I used the afternoon for a walk from Bollington back to my house that took in the Saddle of Kerridge and Tegg's Nose Country Park as I revisited parts that I should frequent more often than I do. In fact, that was a thought that occupied my thoughts as I took in my surroundings. Given that there is so much on my doorstep, I have been wondering about the reason why I am not out there more often.
That may get corrected on the evidence of the Saturday before that again when I followed part of Macclesfield Canal while en route to Lyme Green Retail Park on a shopping errand. A short snippet like that neatly fits into a life with other things that need doing. Little outings often have their uses in getting outside to build up to bigger ones, and that certainly has been happening over the last few weeks.
During that time, thoughts of wandering around Teesdale from Middleton-in-Teesdale has surfaced more than once, only for working week fatigue to put paid to the scheme. The same thing has defeated a trip to Abergavenny to go up and down Sgyrryd Fawr. Another is playing more of a part now as well: local attractions. That's quite a change, given how delights that were further away once blinded me to what lay nearby.
For instance, Sunday offered choices that I struggled to decide between them. One possibility was a walk that took me from the Cat and Fiddle Inn, over Shutlingsloe and then onto home. It was one that would have been my choice but for the sight of cloud advancing from the south. Reprising the Gritstone Trail between Bollington and Disley was another, and there's walking along the Macclesfield Canal between Macclesfield and Congleton in mind too. Then the sun shone and decision needed overcoming to get out the door. The Goyt Valley may have got my vote on the day, but the others remain tempting though and would make ideal walks for shorter days too.
However, that is not to imply that walks have been discounted because the list of trip reports that need writing include a range of destinations: Loch Ericht and Glen Tilt in Scotland, Cumbria's Howgill Fells, the Gower in south Wales and Pembrokeshire in west Wales. Of these, I scarcely have made any mention of those August visits to Wales. The Gower saw me walk from Rhossili to Port Eynon, and it is a hike that I can recommend. On a long deserved return to Pembrokeshire, I sampled part of the coastal path between Strumble Head and Fishguard. Cloud may have filled the skies on both of these - is that becoming something of a feature for me, I wonder? - but the walking was good and that's all that I ever ask.
So, I have some sharing to do and more ideas on places to explore and revisit. The shortness of some of my designs should mean that the shorter days of winter should not be an excuse for hibernation. Getting in (at least) one longer walk every month has become my target, and it seems to be happening so far. It's a habit that I wish to continue.
Littered with little walks
30th September 2012 One thing that I have noticed about the Derbyshire Dales is that many of the walks around there are short affairs. That would explain how I fitted in two on the same day last May. Also, a few weeks ago, I got to take in yet another: a trot from Thorpe to Hartington that followed the course of the River Dove that followed up on last May's venture.
Since part of the course that I followed was a busy stretch, I have been looking at what else the area has to offer. The sunny day had drawn out families, and they seemed to be everywhere, walking much further than I would normally expect. Usually, strollers like these are left after one quickly but the more level terrain and the beautiful day must have encouraged them.
Looking through Cicerone's White Peak Walks: The Southern Dales by Mark Richards revealed good supply of walks in the area, many of them short. With the hours of daylight now declining, that attribute could be a handy one for hibernation avoidance this winter. Options like Thorpe Cloud and others look promising and may offer less hemmed in savouring of the delights that are to be found around there.
The northern Derbyshire Dales but there seem to be longer walks there than in their southern counterparts if what's in Cicerone's White Peak Walks: The Northern Dales (again by Mark Richards). Still, they offer possibilities for shorter days that I feel inclined to investigate, especially those that are near at hand to those using public transport. One's that catch my notice are possibilities near Tideswell, Castleton and Bradwell since I haven't been around those parts for a while.
For when longer hours of daylight are restored to us again, there's Vertebrate Publishing's Day Walks in the Peak District by Norman Taylor and Barry Pope. These aren't limited to the White Peak with Dark Peak routes also included. However, they will fill a day nicely and without having to cut out a leisurely midday lunch either. One suggestion in that collection takes in Longnor and Crowdecote and that involves a deep-sided valley that hosts the upper reaches of the River Dove. There are plenty of others that I could use though, and an earlier start is a possibility since the Peak District is on my doorstep.
For walks that are even closer by me, there's Eastern Cheshire Walks: From Peak to Plain by Graham Beech from Sigma Leisure. Having had a trot home from Bollington that took in the Saddle of Kerridge and Tegg's Nose on a wonderfully sunny afternoon. It left me wondering why I don't make more of the local area and why it is that some nearby hummocks only get an annual visit when I should do better than that. Maybe I need to peruse this little green book a few times in an effort to address that state of affairs.
Speaking of a certain remiss, the western side of Cheshire always seems to be devoid of my attention. The idea of walking from Frodsham to Delamere train station along the Sandstone Trail has occurred to me, but things have got no further than that. That trail has its own guide too in the form of Walking Cheshire's Sandstone Trail by Tony Bowerman. This is an attractive, glossily presented affair from Northern Eye Books, and it looks as if it needs more than has been the case up to now. As that were not enough, there's also Walks in West Cheshire and Wirral by Jen Darling from the same publisher. Some of the walks in there are short too, which could be handy for a quick sortie. That's not all either, since Mara Books, an imprint of Northern Eye Books, have produced Circular Walks around the Sandstone Trail by Carl Rogers, so I should not be short of walking ideas for a part of Cheshire that I scarcely have frequented up to now.
All in all, there should be plenty from the above to fuel shorter and longer escapades in Derbyshire, Staffordshire and Cheshire. With those shorter hours of daylight around the corner, they could have a use. All that needs doing now is not to make the walks feel longer than they are and to summon the energy needed to get outside in the first place. Sometimes life events and weather forestall that but my design of at least one walk per month has been bearing up well since May, so here's hoping.
