Category: Europe
If it were done when it were done…
20th August 2009 An alternative title for this piece would be "You always can return and perhaps even should...". It might be the dawning of a realisation as regards how much time has passed but my previously shared assertion that you can always find a different side to any location that you've already visited has been joined by the idea that it's never any harm seeing the same things again. The provocation for this course of thought has been the passing earlier this year of the tenth birthday of the online photo gallery that you find on here. That milestone, a perhaps sobering one for me, has had me casting my eye back over the photos contained therein with some ideas coming to light.
My early forays armed with a 35 mm Ricoh compact camera were made in search of things to see and places to go while also capturing whatever landmark came my way. Living in Edinburgh meant that there were plenty on my doorstep and Cheshire is not bereft of them either. In these DSLR-equipped days, it is immersion in countryside of varying wildness that has held my attention with (hopefully) pleasing landscape photos resulting from those efforts. However, looking at the older photos has been revealing to me how my appraisal of photographic quality has changed over time. A big factor in that is the digital onslaught and the shot in the arm that is the digital darkroom. While sceptical at first, I have been won over by the vibrancy of colours and the crispness of results though I continue to use film from time to time. Speaking of film, I never did make the jump from negative to slide film and so had to put up with printing decisions made by someone else unless I took to scanning negatives and any attempts at that endeavour did leave me dissatisfied; it might have been the technology that I was using. The appeal of the digital darkroom might be small wonder then with all of the control that is on offer.
The conclusion where all of this is leading is towards my engaging in something of a photography project that causes me to revisit old haunts and have another go at recreating some of those earlier images albeit with a spot more success. Cheshire comes to mind as an obvious place to start and that is opportune given that the nights are now drawing in ahead of the shorter days of winter when it is so easy to hibernate. Local escapades that either use my bike (the appeal of cycling is becoming more resurgent within me for some reason or other) or other means of transport sound like good ways to keep active when time for a longer excursion isn't always available. That never is to say that I will not be exploring wondrous countryside for its own sake but savouring the more pleasing examples of what humanity has built in the countryside is no bad thing either, for a bit of variety if nothing else.
Looks like I got away in time
14th August 2009 The weather prospects may have been uneven, if anything, but I grabbed a few days away in Aviemore this week. The Caledonian Sleeper conveyed me there and away again overnight before today's heavy rain ensconced itself over Scotland. Tuesday saw me trot over Meall a' Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a' Chaillich and Craiggowrie in ever deteriorating conditions (eventually leading to wind blown rain and poor visibility) that left me needing the services of a drying room afterwards. Ironically and maybe irritatingly, the weather improved in leaps and bounds after my descent until the sun appeared on my return to Glenmore. Never let it be said that the Scottish weather doesn't appear to have a sense of humour, but it was decent walking, nonetheless, and I later got in a shower dampened yomp around Craigellachie after an early evening meal.
A mix of sunshine and light showers was what awaited me on Wednesday when I went poking around Inshriach. Whatever sights I might have set on reaching the summit of Creag Dhubh were given something of a cold bath when I saw the thickness of the heathery carpet that I would need to cross and ascend. After the previous day's exertions, I very sensibly thought better of it but have noted the opportunities for a first Munro hereabouts but reckon that more low-level explorations are in order first. I may not have made it to a summit, but a circumnavigation of Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean more than made up for that, even if that meant contending with other holidaymakers. More poking followed my evening meal when I got to seek out the Speyside Way, only to note that the route has changed since 2007 when my OS Explorer map was published.
As if to prove that mountain weather has a mind all of its own, Thursday started out damp, so damp that I retreated indoors to the comfort of a return journey along the Strathspey Railway. The dampness hadn't been predicted, but the weather started to turn for the better as I got back to Aviemore again, and a spot of wandering was in order for the afternoon and early evening ahead of my overnight trip south. In short, the steam railway trip had made good use of an otherwise uninspiring morning, and it doesn't take you through ugly surroundings either.
A bus journey conveyed me to Glenmore again, from where I ventured over the Ryvoan Pass on my way to Strath Nethy, where views towards Bynack More and Bynack Beg distracted. In fact, the sight of a good path towards Bynack More has me wondering about doing a trek to its 1090-metre-high summit sometime; having more time available may have seen me make an attempt on the day. As if that weren't enough, there are far too many other options to considered for the same small area, never a complaint. Sun was in short supply, but it stayed dry, and that state of affairs was well appreciated after Tuesday's dousing. Saying that, it was still midge weather, so stopping places needed careful selection so as not to be overrun by the infamous irritants.
Returning to Glenmore meant reprising the outbound journey until after An Lochan Uaine where I selected a forestry path climbing the lower slopes of Meall a' Bhuachaille more enthusiastically than I might have liked at this point. However, I didn't go unrewarded, with the sun coming out to enliven the vistas that opened out before me at the top of the path. Kinder gradients awaited me on the way down a forestry vehicle track.
From Glenmore, I followed the "Old Logging Way", a new off-road cycle and walking track shadowing the road back to Aviemore without appearing on my 2007 OS map. Catching the bus back might have been the less tiring option, but I wasn't going to leave even an ever cloudier evening go to waste. In fact, I was back in Aviemore without feeling too shabby after my exertions and with ample time ahead of my train for getting some food. Whatever doubts surfaced in my mind about the sense of my decision proved groundless.
Looking back at it now, imperfect weather failed to put paid to a well-packed and well-used few days. A trip to Aviemore may not be as attention grabbing as one to the Western Isles like mine last year, but it was a break from the daily hurly-burly and that was what was really needed. Mallaig may have surfaced as an option for a multi-trip this so-called summer, in line with my usual drift to the West Highlands, but the prevailing weather sent me east to follow up on my April excursion and more can follow from this one again. That western drift has left much unfinished business in the east, always a shot in the arm for when it is needed. This posting itself is, as long as it is, the start of an unfinished business with my intending to elaborate in the fullness of time. In a way, it's like the trip itself: a lot done, but more to do.
A Cwm Cau Horseshoe
7th August 2009 A circular walk wasn't what I had in mind, let alone some sort of horseshoe itinerary. The original idea had been to walk from Minffordd to Dolgellau by way of Cadair Idris. It simply was to be a case of following the Minffordd Path up and the Pony Path down before making for my destination either by road or a mixture of tarmac bashing and traversal over rights of way through fields. However, I changed my mind along the way because the distance between Cadair Idris and Dolgellau can be deceptive and the time that I had until my bus to Machynlleth looked more limited on the top of Penygadair, a summit that I wasn't so bothered about reaching after managing the feat next to three years ago. Minffordd looked the nearer and I wanted to make sure of my way home, not at all a problem on the day.
My choice of Wales was because an east moving rain belt might leave earlier to afford a drier day's walking than might be had further east. It appears that I made the right decision, and especially so when you consider that a rain belt was ensconced over Ireland during their August bank holiday weekend, not at all what they need right now. The Cadair Idris idea was in mind for a while after a previous attempt came to naught, and less involved transport arrangements only added to its appeal.
The trouble with both Cadair Idris and the Rhinogau is that they are great collectors of clag whenever there is any uncertainty regarding the weather conditions. Their proximity to the Irish Sea is what I think to be the cause, and I seem to have made more visits when the tops were shrouded than when they were clear. However, a Spring Bank Holiday weekend "invasion", made trickier by the Cadair Idris hill race when it came to accommodation, a few years back, proved that there are days when air clarity reigns supreme. Saturday's incursion wasn't to be one of those, with low clouds smothering the summits from time to time. Even so, that reduction in visibility never obscured the presence of those fearsome inland cliff faces that surround Cwm Cau, so all was safe.
Apart from safety concerns, the presence of so much cloud didn't bother me so much because its absence could make for the sort of day when lazing rather than more strenuous activity would be the more tempting. So, while temperatures weren't what they might have been, it was still hot, sweaty work on the way uphill from Minffordd. In hindsight, my starting point probably should have been the car park at the junction of the B4405 and the A487, but I pottered down the former to following my intended right of way as the map showed it. You could say that I was taking a safety first approach on my first visit to the locality, yet it offered the opportunity to find my bearings and that can never be a bad thing, even if road traffic required a little negotiation.
My route away from tarmac was soon located, and a mental note made of the off-road alternative. The path underfoot was well-made with plenty of steps easing the way uphill through the woodland with waterfalls to my right. It was also quiet, an undeniable bonus when steep inclines are to be negotiated; there's nothing like the freedom to determine your pace and rest stops without the nuisance of leap frogging that blights so many popular tracks through upland areas. Views of the hills surrounding Llyn Mwyngil (also known as Tal-y-llyn Lake) took up the time spent stationary. Cloud denied opportunities for photography, but you can't knock beauty when there's no sun.
The gradients took to being kinder after the treeline was crossed, and I was presented with a choice: staying with the Minffordd Path as planned or diverting around by Mynydd Moel instead. Having seen an information board before the uphill action commenced, the latter was tempting, but I decided to keep with the original course and continued towards Llyn Cau on a path that was at times boggy and unclear. That may have been the cause of my approaching the corrie rather nearer than might have been intended, but it was nothing that a spot of doubling back couldn't fix, and it was on open access land after all. In fact, I could have continued around the lake to embark on a steep ascent that reminds me of the Devil's Kitchen path in the Ogwen Valley. Some might find its kind exhilarating, but there are times too when making it harder for yourself than it needs to be is not in order.
The slopes of Craig Lwyd saw my footfall instead of the above more adventurous alternative, whose presence hadn't come to my notice by then, anyway. There were a goodly number of folk plying the way hereabouts, yet not so many as to make it feel like the walking equivalent of the M6 or the M25. The gradient was energetic, but the coolness at above 600 metres in height kept the sweating in check. An extra layer was needed when things levelled off; steeper gradients never last. Airy ground became the order of things with views down to the lakes beneath competing with the slopes, craggy or not, for attention. Still, the ridge-like feel wasn't sufficient to scare, though it did provide every encouragement for keeping away from sharp steep stony deathly drops.
Craig-Cwm Amarch looked quite impressive when it came into view. Low clouds were wont to envelop me and anyone at this ca. 700 metres height sporadically, and the 791 metres summit in question got cloaked too; the accompanying decline in temperature was the reason for my wrapping up warmer. Keeping a respectable distance from the edge, I left the peopled Craig-Cwm Amarch to cross Craig Cau for Penygadair. This may have meant a very noticeable height loss and subsequent regain, but my legs weren't complaining too much as Cadair Idris' highest point came quickly enough.
Like many others there at the time, I lingered on the summit for a while. On my visit in August 2006, it was a breezy spot that felt more exposed than it felt on the return trip. Higher clouds abounded that day, but with no sign of blue sky to complement it. For the second visit, the low cloud stayed away for long enough to allow glimpses of Barmouth and the mouth of the Mawddach Estuary from on high. In fact, there were decent views all around, yet the sense that you were under a cap of cloud that wasn't everywhere was inescapable. It was a reminder of Kerry folk and their saying that Brandon on the Dingle peninsula has "his" cap on. The cause would be the same: moist, unstable sea forming into wisps and clots as it rose in height.
It was a look at my watch that put me off the idea of continuing to Dolgellau, despite the attractions of following a known path in conditions with occasional lack of air clarity. Thoughts of rushing things overpowered any such advantages, so I opted for a shorter option that took in more summits, one of them being Mynydd Moel, and returning by the path that tempted me earlier. Along the way, I crossed nameless tops with ample views to the north. Whatever numbers of people had accumulated dissipated quickly as I continued to the east. While I questioned the sanity of the enterprise, the easy slopes to the top of Mynydd Moel were surmounted with one last look around before I started to pick my way down.
Looking at the map now, following the fence that I crossed to reach the said summit downhill wouldn't have been so foolhardy if mapping could be trusted not to hide some unpleasant obstacle among the otherwise none too frightening slopes. On the day, I went down the hill's eastern slopes on a well-defined if occasionally challenging path to reach an informal one going south along the eastern bank of a watercourse. The down-slopes didn't look so threatening from then on, and I crossed the Nant Caenewydd near a wall that I followed west to pick up a maintained path taking me back towards the junction where I had that earlier quandary. My old Explorer OL23 showed the course of the formal Mynydd Moel path, but that seems to be omitted from the Quo data that I have. That makes me wonder what a newer map might be missing, but it's all access land, so no one should be hollering at any devil-may-care cross-country wanderers like myself.
The way down steepened, but it was known to me from earlier in the day and I knew that no rushing was needed. It still wasn't busy and took me back to level ground in good time. This time, I followed the path to the car park that I had rejected earlier and reached my waiting point for the bus with time to spare, never a cause for complaint. However, your brain really doesn't need to take to wandering into questions like whether you are at the right place to stop a bus when it is unmarked and whether the bus would be excessively delayed on its way south from Caernarfon. All such concerns turned out to be unfounded, a good way of ensuring that they didn't sully a fabulous day out.
Travel arrangements:
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Machynlleth and 32/X32 return bus trip from Machynlleth to Minffordd.
A journey from peak to plain
5th August 2009 The mixture that has been the weather during the last few weeks may or may not have made the boffins in the Met Office look a little foolish, to say the least. More seriously, it is having an adverse impact on many Irish dairy farmers following what was for them a less than ideal winter; the combination of high feed and fertiliser prices, low grass growth due to sodden ground and a collapse in the price of milk is proving the undoing of many otherwise sound businesses and even may provoke an exodus from the industry yet. In these constrained times, alternatives are rare, so forestry is coming out in the wash as one option because of the possibility of E.U. funding. It leaves me wondering if that could turn out a good thing for walkers, but only time and progress regarding access will tell on that score. Nevertheless, calling these times interesting would be an understatement...
That predicament puts into perspective any moaning that there has been about those unfulfilled dreams of sunshine holidays at home. As one sunseeker put it to me about enjoying Britain all year around, sunbathing isn't much of an option away from the summer months, and I only can agree. It also rather explains very well the traditional fixation with getting a summer with copious amounts of warm sunshine. Thought the greyness can irritate, those of a more active inclination always have the option of wrapping up warm for the cold and using waterproof clothing if they desire to face the rain. A mixture of sunshine and light showers is more than bearable but calling quits becomes a less easy inclination to fight off when the rain turns heavy and incessant.
Regardless of being equipped to deal with what the weather puts your way, I still find the possibility of some dryness much more amenable, and last Saturday week didn't fail to supply exactly that. It was a merry counterpoint to the near pervasive wetness that has so dominated July's weather. Casting my eye over the weather forecast map of Britain, the idea of hiking from Grasmere to Borrowdale by way of Grasmere Common and Greenup Edge came into my mind. In the event, circumstances did not allow for this, so I stayed local to enjoy a pleasant afternoon's and early evening's walking along a mixture of thoroughfares as I wandered through some Staffordshire and Cheshire countryside.
A train to Kidsgrove got me to the start of my trek, and the first task was to get out of Kidsgrove to Mow Cop, a village divided between Cheshire and Staffordshire. Following the Gritstone Trail as it followed canal towpaths before heading east on a mixture of road and footpath walking might have been the clearer option, but I chose to muddle my way across Kidsgrove instead. While that may have taken longer than might have been liked, I now know better and got to crossing fields in due time anyway. My journey even took me through some corn fields as Mow Cop was made to grow ever nearer.
The final stretches of the way to Mow Cop Castle were over tarmac, and I took the chance to linger awhile on those upward slopes. Clouds packed the sky, so sunshine was spotty, so it looked like photographic ambitions of making photos of the aforementioned erstwhile summerhouse were to come to naught. However, the decision to hang about on National Trust property was rewarded when the sun got through to light up the Castle, built by a former resident of nearby Rode Hall. It is a well-known landmark round these parts, but there's more to that to Mow Cop, as you'll realise if you ever come by a free leaflet produced by the Mow Cop Resident's Association with Heritage Lottery funding to promote their Heritage Trail. A read of the said document should reveal that a lot is packed into what looks for all the world to be a small, inconsequential spot. The Castle might be visible from as far away as Siddington and Marton, but an afternoon or day long visit should be well spent if you put in the effort.
Making my way north from the Castle brought me to my turn for the South Cheshire Way in the sight of the Old Man o' Mow, an artefact left behind after quarrying works came to an end. Downhill progress took me through damp pasture and into Hanging Wood, where mud simply was unavoidable, hardly a surprise after the preceding weather. If anything, I should have encountered more mud than I actually did, but that may be a consequence of the quality of the land that I was crossing. Beyond the wood, it was onto pasture frequented by curious cattle who were quickly left after me when I found a good track that took me to Acker's Crossing and with an underpass taking me across the West Coast Mainline too.
A snippet of tarmac bashing landed me on the banks of the Macclesfield Canal. The plan was to follow the South Cheshire Way around by Little Moreton Hall until I met the Mersey & Trent Canal near Thurlwood. In the event, an absence of waymarks, well turned up turf and unpromising stiles gave me the wrong impression, so I stuck with the canal towpath to pass Ramsdell Hall and pick up a more promising right of way that escorted me to Scholar Green.
More road walking awaited before a crossing of the A34 took me off-road again on a driveway that changed to a narrow path between two overgrown hedges. Another minor road crossing ensued as I picked my way through the fields, one a grain field, to the south of Rode Hall. After passing through Bratt's Wood, I needed my navigational wits about me to make up for a waymarking malfunction to reach the aforementioned Mersey & Trent Canal. Knowing that I was less likely to come into conflict with a landowner given the time of day and my being out of sight of any habitation may have meant that I could go direction finding with a certain confidence that was found lacking earlier in the day.
On reaching the canal, I had a decision to make. Looping back to Kidsgrove's train station was one option, but the option of spending some of the evening hours extending my stroll to Wheelock proved too tempting. Thus, I plied the towpath, marvelling at the number of locks that I was passing. The village of Lawton-gate was passed without delay, while Thurlwood offered the chance to relax awhile in the company of swans and ducks. From there, I took to a steady pace to shorten the distance to the M6, under which I was to pass. Farm machinery was in action in the fields for the harvesting of silage and what I believe to be oil seed rape, but I am no expert on the latter; the sight of a working forage harvester rather than a combine is what is sending my thoughts this way. The activity was a reminder that agriculture continues to bustle if not flourish in some places, even if it is suffering in others.
After passing under the M6, the hubbub of traffic and farm machinery was left behind me for quieter parts. Wheelock turned out to be very near at hand, as I found myself making light work of the remaining distance on a pleasant summer's evening with patchy sunshine. My destination isn't the largest of places and its situation on the Cheshire Plain means a less dramatic aspect than that at Mow Cop, but it remains a pretty spot nonetheless. Having a direct and regular bus connection played a part in my deciding to finish there. In hindsight, I suppose that I could have stayed there a little longer, but my mind was set on getting home, and the next bus came at a good time to end a day that was far from wasted by my exertions.
Travel Arrangements:
Direct train from Macclesfield to Kidsgrove and bus service 38 from Wheelock to Macclesfield.
Finding dry weather over the weekend
3rd August 2009 In marked contrast to July, I seem to have got in a proper hill walking outing right on the first day of August. It was a case of first deciding that I was going somewhere and then finding a dry spot on the weather map. That took me on a train journey to Machynlleth in Wales by way of a wet Wolverhampton. More specifically, I ended up walking what might be termed a Cwm Cau horseshoe and that took me over Cadair Idris. Starting and finishing at the Minfford Hotel meant that I ended up avoiding Dolgellau, a perhaps more usual starting point but with a longer walk in to the hills, too. When I finally begin to get the lead out with my trip reports, I'll tell you more about the escapade but a good day was had with a cap of cloud keeping both sunburn and heatstroke at bay. That might have limited the photographic output but there was still plenty of that too with the sun coming through at times.
Yesterday saw me pulling out the bike for an afternoon run around Macclesfield. Given that I was (and am) still feeling the effects of Saturday's exertions in my legs, steeper inclines were avoided on a spin that took in places such a Siddington, Marton, North Rode, Oakgrove and Sutton. The weather was reminiscent of what I enjoyed in Wales the day before so it wasn't unsuited to a spot of activity. Some roads like the A537, A34, A54 and A523 had their fair share of traffic but Cheshire has its allotment of quiet country lanes too. They can be both narrow and twisty so keeping so being alert in readiness for the occasional car is always clearly in order. Even so, sufficient opportunity for relaxing progress was on offer and the surroundings were resplendent to boot.
All in all, the weekend made an excellent start to August (and autumn? Well, some are wondering...) so long as you picked the right spot. It has been a bank holiday one in Éire and Scotland so I hope that they were able to make something of it. July hasn't been so kind to us so the only hope is that the predicted mixture of rain and sunshine allows some drier interludes for enjoying the countryside at this point in the year and there's a bank holiday weekend for England and Wales at the end of the month.
