Category: Europe
Some soggy yet varied Welsh wandering
17th February 2011 Unusually for me, this year's hill wanderings got an early start with a day out in Wales on the second Saturday of the year. That outing took me to Roman Bridge in the Lledr Valley from where I hiked to Pen y Pass using a route of my own devising, and it was hard to say that it wasn't varied either. First, there was a little variety in the weather, but the mix of terrain included soggy forest floors and waterlogged moorland. Even sheep pasture was to feel anything but dry. Because the day itself wasn't the warmest, it was best to be shod in waterproof boots and not to fall in the wet either.
The journey from Macclesfield allowed a break at Llandudno Junction, to make whatever use that I could of the directional light that was falling upon Conwy Castle and its surroundings. In marked contrast, it was under cloudy skies that I set off from Roman Bridge train station. As overcast as things were, snow-topped hills still drew the eye. There even was a feeling of dampness in the air as I plied first the single track road and then a public footpath towards Blaenau Dolwyddelan before starting on the right of way that was set to take me into what was to feel like an unloved commercial forestry; the experience made it easy to see why there was so much opposition to the U.K. government's now dropped plans for selling off land managed by the Forestry Commission. Navigational uncertainties were put behind me and breaks began to appear in the cloud too before a crossing of Ceunant y Garnedd was needed. The signs of untended landscape were apparent in the lack of a bridge and the presence of still fallen trees that allowed me to get over what was a fast flowing watercourse. Something tells me that this might be fordable in drier spells of weather, but that was not how I was to find it at the start of 2011.
Initially, the public footpath through the forestry didn't seem too unkind, but more fallen trees and stray growing saplings were to make my passage tricky, with stream crossings and some well-made sections of path obstructed by what felt like extraneous upstarts. Their presence reminded me of a trot along the Rob Roy Way from Aberfoyle to Callander a few years back when I spied a gentleman out with a chainsaw removing the same class of greenery from the sides of a vehicle track through a forest plantation overlooking Loch Venachar. My experiences in the Welsh counterpart around Garnedd Pen y Bont were planting ideas of bringing untoward implements like billhooks and chainsaws along to clear my way in the future. Of course, those outlandish notions were given short shrift, though they may in part explain the recent furore about the U.K. government's plans for Forestry Commission land. While I accept the imperfections of that institution, they have been known to do some good work and I have encountered the fruits of that around Arrochar and Glenfinnan in Scotland.
Whatever about the battles fought with vegetation, the sun did start to peep through those growing breaks in the clouds to light up what was around me and allow some views of what lay behind me. With time, I was shortening the distance to the edge of the forestry with conditions underfoot getting ever more mushy and with some lying snow, where it wasn't so waterlogged too. The general state of the ground was causing me to keep as close to the roots of trees too, even if that had me battling with headstrong branches. Any fallen branches that could convey me over the unsound stuff were gratefully used too. However, it was a foolhardy step onto a slender, slippery branch that was the cause of sending me out on my side in the muddy wet. Did I mention earlier that this wasn't the best of days for such misadventures? Even so, there was nothing broken and I soon dried without any ill effects, though clothes needed washing when I got home!
My braving that tree colony was well rewarded when I exited it. Clouds had become really well broken by then and pleasing vistas faced me wherever I happened to gaze, so long as a cloud didn't go sneaking in front of the sun. Those featuring Carnedd Moel Siabod probably were among the more photographically interesting that I've ever seen; the side-on views that I have been known to record seem a little less fascinating these days. Other hills that now are harder to identify caught the sun, and a return is needed for the sake of working out exactly which is which. Looking at the photos that I made now shows little if any sign of the water that lay on the ground without making it as difficult to negotiate as in that forest through which I had passed.
It's remarkable how the hills before need not always be what you think they are. After comparing photos to pick out Yr Aran to the south-west of Llyn Gwynant and Y Lliwedd, one of the flanks of the Snowdon horseshoe, I get the sense that getting out a compass while out in the empty quiet places for the sake of working out which hill is which should be something to do more often while out in complex countryside. Once upon a time, it was a great help in working out my surroundings during a hike along the West Highland Way between Kingshouse Hotel and Kinlochleven. The day in question may not have granted me the photo opportunities for which I'd been hoping, but things now make a lot more sense afterwards.
As I went down to the floor of the Glaslyn valley, I was to see more of those Welsh hills that gave me cause for a spot of mental action. The positioning of the sun and clouds were to play a part in denying me the chance of acquiring nice photos, but those that I did, came in very useful afterwards. Losing height all the while, the surroundings changed from open moorland to walled pasture to woodland. The latter proved to be more natural and more friendly to the passing walker than my previous brush with woodland on the day and the gradients down which I was descending. There were views down the valley towards Beddgelert and up it towards the Snowdon hills and the Glyderau upon which to gaze during any well-earned break.
Because more level ground was reached, there was the matter of crossing the A498 and going down yet another steep incline. Temptingly, a Snowdon Sherpa bus service passed, but I decided not to halt it at short notice, probably a sensible decision. More tarmac walking was in order along a quiet single - track road before I crossed well soggy fields to reach the other side of the valley. Golden late January afternoon sunshine blessed my surroundings, so I was happy to have continued my walk in place of what could have been a premature finish. The track along which I was journeying was a quality affair leading from a campsite, and it was tempting to think that it would have been great if it remained that way all the way to Pen y Pass.
That proved to be wishful thinking as things grew rougher on the approach to what looked for all the world like a church refurbished as a dwelling place. In fact, it was a far more industrial installation in the form of a waterworks facility if I recall correctly. With an awareness of fading light, I kept going, though I was to follow the line of the right of way more loosely than I might have intended. Later on, that manifested itself in my taking a route to Pen y Pass of my own making with my being deceived by a line of electricity poles into following Nant Cynnyd while battling the sort of tussocky grass that was reminding me of a walk from Ardlui to Butterbridge on a day when the advertised sunshine failed to materialise. However, this was access land, so I was free to plot my own with any loss of height and walking became easier as I gained height too. It didn't take too long to reach the well-travelled path that I had been seeking, with the A4086 lying above me to my right. Light was failing, so a head torch was pressed into service so that I reached the Snowdon Sherpa bus down to Llanberis in time. It may have involved one last push of faltering legs, but there was no bad end to what in many ways had been a superb outing. In fact, I am pondering future visits to these parts and a reprise of the trot from Roman Bridge to Pen y Pass or Beddgelert cannot be ruled out of contention. Next time, though, that commercial woodland might be best avoided.
Travel Arrangements:
Train from Macclesfield to Roman Bridge. Snowdon Sherpa from Pen y Pass to Llanberis, Padarn Bus service from Llanberis to Bangor, train from Bangor to Macclesfield.
A year in two halves
2nd February 2011 There was one event in my life over the last year that very firmly punctuated the year in outdoors terms: a change of job. Whether it was the cause of putting my hill-going off track or not, there clearly were less outings in the second half of the year and those that were enjoyed weren't so extensive. The strange thing though is that a Christmas spent with the folks in Ireland seems to have recharged things for me. After all, there already has been a proper day out among the waterlogged hill country around Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) in Wales very early in this year with a mad dash up to Fort William and Glenfinnan together with a crossing to Ireland to savour the delights of Howth near Dublin following it. In previous years, it often has fallen to the last weekend of January before I managed to get out at all. There are other schemes in mind but more armchair exploring could be needed before anything comes of them.
The first few months of last year had me standing on hilltops more often than is usual for me and January and February fitted into this pattern with walks over Place Fell in Cumbria and Diffwys near Dyffryn Ardudwy, respectively. The weather was very amenable in both cases with a touch of spring being felt on the second excursion to contrast with the sights reminding onlookers of winter during the previous one. The other major outing in February was a cycle that took in Gawsworth, Astbury, Little Moreton Hall, Holmes Chapel, Goostrey, Over Peover and Chelford. Though I was tired after that jaunt, it sowed the seeds for a cycle to Chester later in the year.
March saw me move things up a gear again by heading to Scotland to see some Scottish snow-covered hillsides around Glen More among the Cairngorms. Braving some showers was the price that I had to pay for this but the rewards from the short sampling session more than compensated. In fact, it may have set the scene for a busy April that featured an Easter Sunday trot from Baslow to Bamford while shadowing the River Derwent. That wasn't as low level as it might sound but I headed to greater heights in the form of Carnedd Moel Siabod and Y Llethr in Wales too. Revisiting the trip reports for these makes me realise that I was more active than I now remember myself to be.
My recollections of May are stronger and it started with a Mayday bank holiday weekend visit to the Isle of Man where I savoured some of the ups and downs of the coastal path, Raad ny Foillan. That was a good introduction to Manx walking and I hope to follow up the outing some time. A trot from Selkirk to Melrose had it share of ascent and descent too as it brought back to a part of the world where I hadn't been for a few years. Later, I discovered that the Kerry mountains around Killarney can get some hot sunny weather. In fact, it could have been the most sun that I have had on a visit to the alluring area.
As it happened, May ended with the commencement of the distraction that was to occupy my mind for much of the next few months: a change of job. It was amazing to see how this really punctuated my outdoors year. The weather remained balmy as I pondered what I was doing with visits to the National Trust managed woods around Alderley Edge for some unwinding on lengthening evenings. That spell of good weather came to an end later in June but not before I snatched the chance to head north to the Isle of Arran and Kintyre for what became my only real longer summer break in Scotland. That didn't prove to be the end of my feeling hot sunshine for the year because a business trip took me to Sweden where long hot evenings allowed me to savour the delights both of Sodertalje and Stockholm.
From July on, the rest of the year gained a much quieter feel when it came to enjoying the outdoors. Nevertheless, I did manage to base myself in Aberdeen for the English August Bank Holiday weekend. Having not been there after a first visit more than a decade before, it was time to revisit places encountered before and exploring those that were new to me. The latter point brings to a first visit to Braemar that took me up to the top Morrone/Morvern with heavy showers making rainbows in the sunshine before things dried up later on an otherwise chilly day. The outing had a real end of year feel with that coolness though Edinburgh felt warm in the sun when I sneaked in a trot about its heart between trains. Maybe I should have based myself there instead, like I did for the same weekend in 2009.
For some reason, the rest of the year felt as if the stuffing had been knocked out of it for me and my outings appeared to reflect that. Nevertheless, I did get to cycling all of the way from Macclesfield to Chester, a brainwave that came to me earlier in the year. It also proved that Cheshire is far from flat though I knew that anyway. Ironically, my end of British Summer Time hike along the High Peak Trail and the Tissington Trail from Pomeroy to Ashbourne on a day when cloud overcame sun as I went further south. Following old railway alignments meant that ups and downs were kept to a minimum on that October afternoon but the distance covered was felt for a while afterwards, ironically for longer than the effects of my exertions in crossing Cheshire if my memory is not failing me again.
Breaking away for a hill country outing seemed to have become difficult for me but November saw me on top of Caer Caradoc in Shropshire due the perceived accessibility of the hill. Shrewsbury remains another idea for urban pottering as does Oswestry so it wasn't about standing atop a hill. In fact, the very next issue of Country Walking featured low hills with good views and put into my head the idea of collating a list of a few of these for times when inspiration was hard to locate.
December's snows may have been disruptive and I was to feel the effects of that when I popped over to Ireland for the Christmas but they were restorative when it came to getting me out of doors again. For one thing, there was a quick visit to the hills near Glossop that was more about broadening my experience of winter condition than covering much in the way of distance. Then, there was wandering around local haunts in Wilmslow (Lindow Common became a 2010 discovery for me), Macclesfield, Prestbury and West Limerick. Surroundings may have looked totally different and very pretty on these short strolls but they very much helped me in the restoration of my hill wandering mojo. Now, I need to ensure that it doesn't leave me again. After all, 2011 has started well and I really do need to set down some more trip reports as well as ensuring that my working life doesn't overwhelm everything else on me again.
Reminders of unfinished business
29th January 2011 Last weekend saw me follow a flight of fancy in that I journeyed up to Fort William on the Sleeper from Crewe. A forecast showing some sunshine was what unleashed me but the reality was more foggy when I reached Fort William. Incidentally, it was very foggy when I left Crewe too but that didn't stop me wondering at what I had done, even if I had gained a glorious view of the Black Mount beyond Loch Tulla or of the hills around Loch Treig on the way.
Despite a quandary induced by the weather that I , I stuck with my original design of popping over to Glenfinnan with two options in mind. The one that came to pass was a short trot along the banks of Loch Shiel and there was some the sun was found to be out when I arrived too though it wasn't to last with grey clouds eventually taking over the sky. Wisps of low cloud affixed themselves to hillsides too as if to amaze the passing wanderer. Add a stag to the scene and he partaking of some silage left out for feeding and there was some wild magic in the peaceful stillness. The surrounding hills looked majestic too so this was a good introduction that needs following up but more thoughts of unfinished business came to mind.
After all, it was ongoing unfinished business at work that made me wonder if I was doing the right thing in undertaking a weekend away but there were more instances from the outdoors world that overtook this. On Sunday morning, the thought of a trot around by Cow Hill and Glen Nevis came to mind but there really wasn't the time for doing that in any state other than in a worried rush and Scotland's fine countryside deserves better than that.
Other examples also joined the queue. Reprising the part of the West Highland Way between Bridge of Orchy, Kinlochleven and Glen Nevis is but one. Seeing more of the hills of the Black Mount and around Loch Etive or Glen Etive is another. Then, there's following up on fleeting visits to Morar and Ardgour more than twelve months ago. Part of the motivation for all of this is my coming away with pleasing photos but that has been an ever present motivation in my explorations of hill country and it's good to see that it still does the trick for me.
On the way home, the sight of Cameron McNeish's The Skye Trail on a bookshelf in Glasgow was enough to have a copy come away with me and that reminded me that I have unfinished business up there too. A fuller review has appeared elsewhere on the blogosphere so I won't be doing one but it's a pleasing mix of route description and social history that also was typical of the volume on the The Sutherland Trail, itself also in my possession and needing further perusal.
All in all, this is far cry from my state of mind last autumn when it became difficult to overcome any sense of fatigue to get out in the countryside all that often. Now, I blame the sense that there was nothing out there that drew me out anymore. Of course, that is fallacious and it's good to have cured it for now. All that it took was the arrival of arctic weather with a good deal of snow and a Christmas spent in Ireland (catching up with a few issues of TGO too) for that one to be put out of commission.
A “They’re On You!” Moment
15th January 2011 With the deluges that have fallen over Wales, Cumbria, the North Pennines and Scotland, today wouldn't have made for a pleasurable day's walking. Last weekend, though, things were very different, and I took myself to Wales for a hike from Roman Bridge to Pen y Pass. The ground was waterlogged in many places then, so it leaves nothing to the imagination to realise how easy it would be for rivers to rise with heavy rain falling on the hills, like it has been doing today. Thoughts of visiting the castles at Beaumaris and Caernarfon may be entering my head, but I reckon that I'll leave things to settle a little before any other Welsh outing after what came the way. Macclesfield may not have fared too badly, yet you only have to hear of railway line closures to realise how hard a time other places are having.
Regarding last weekend's hike, my usual practice of saying more in a little while applies here too, but one happenstance really stands out in my memory, so I'll recall it here. Whether it was due to my being tired at the end of the walk or my being distracted by the need to catch a bus, I managed to stuff my head torch into my trousers pocket only to let it fall from my brain that I'd done so; daylight was failing while I took a little longer than I'd intended, so the extra lighting was a big help. The item itself is a Petzl LED affair, but it did nothing to make its presence known to me when I went looking for it again until it finally dawned on me where it might have gone. It's a reminder both of how smaller some things are getting because my older Petzl would be nowhere near as compact with its need for rather old-fashioned oblong 3LR12 batteries to provide its power. Next time, I think that I'll make a conscious note of where the newer lamp is being put to curtail any subsequent head scratching.
Out in some of the whiteness
6th January 2011 Those heavy coatings of snow that many of us were to find round about our way before Christmas weren't left to pass without my going out and sampling the transformed countryside, even if my excursions were mere nibbles compared with what others were doing. On the Monday before Christmas, I got myself into the hills not far from Glossop with Shelf Benches being the limit of my explorations. Tuesday saw me pottering about Lindow Common enthralled by the way clumps of snow were clinging to any vegetation. Wednesday afternoon was too good to leave go so I tried out and circular trot round by Prestbury, starting from my own front doorstep. A Christmas trip to Ireland in spite of snow showers closing Dublin Airport and sending me around the island a bit more than I intended offered its own opportunities too. That meant some wandering along snowy roads and over well coated fields before the thaw came on St. Stephen's Day (Boxing Day to the British). The only sign of snow since was a greasy damp dusting that greeted me on the morning of my first day back at work for 2011.
It was after a chaotic weekend for anyone travelling in the U.K. that I finally had the chance of making something of what had visited us on Friday evening and beyond. With the aftermath of the snowfall and the impact of the cold weather in mind, I decided against going too far and stuck with an option that erupted in my mind the day before: sampling the hill country near Glossop again after being absent for a few years. The prospect of popping over to Longdendale was an extension that never came to pass but it was better not to get too carried away during the hours that were available to me. That was just as well because any attempt to approach Shelf Moor and its neighbours would have been stymied but for my having my Kahtoola Microspikes with me; they stuck into the ice superbly to get me further away from civilisation than otherwise might have been the case. Beyond the obstacle, it was over to the cleats of my Scarpa ZG10's to keep me upright and they did that, apart from downhill skid on slippery snow that didn't carry me either too far or into any danger; it merely was a warning not to get too carefree. Cloud were advancing from the south, but enough sunlight was left for me to make a pleasing record of what surrounded me. It was only after Mossy Lea farm that I had the chance to use the Access Land to leave the more travelled way to have a potter about. In the end, I contented myself with reaching the foot of Shelf Benches after following a jeep track as far as a broken down wall, from where I followed animal tracks as far as was sensible.
Strangely, there were more folk around when I made my return to Glossop; there only was one other soul out when I was venturing away from civilisation. Some were struggling over the icy obstruction with instep crampons while others seemed to get around it without any need for specialised kit at all. My incursion into the whitened outdoors may not have carried me far but I did gain a bit of height to gaze over humps and bumps that lay about me, so satisfaction was assured.
The next day's sampling of whitened surroundings was a snatched trot about the Black Lake on Lindow Common. Every tree and scrub had clumps of snow stuck to it, which may for dramatic sights when walking through the Common's more wooded parts. These were sights that I rarely get to see so I lingered even though there were other things to be done and there was time-consciousness in the bargain too. The afternoon of the day after was less rushed as I walked from my house to Prestbury. The light was beginning to fade a little and there were sights that reminded me of Lindow as I followed the Bollin. There were thoughts of walking back via Tytherington but an iced up track under a railway put a stop to that; a quick local trot had me leaving the Microspikes behind and they were needed unless I contented myself with wandering through Prestbury village and back home by roadside footways whose gradients were a solid reminder of the depression of a valley through which the Bollin flows. That's what I did to reach the cover of street lights before daylight finally failed for the day.
Those Irish explorations took place in better light, so there was enough for photos of unusual scenes for a usually mild part of the country. Well, seeing clumps of snow stuck to everything and hearing the dropping of snow dust within a hedge or a bush just isn't usual at all. Much of my venturing took the form of careful road walking, though I followed farm roadways too. In hindsight, I was glad to have sampled what I did because a rapid thaw after Christmas Day didn't take long to remove all the whiteness from everywhere; that was almost as dramatic as the snow fall and arctic temperatures themselves. It may be January, but one cannot be betting on any repeat of what came from the north to us and many would appreciate its staying away for a good while after all the disruption that was caused. Well, it goes to show that nature's beauty has a price but it's worthwhile when you gaze upon scenes like those shared here.
