Category: Europe
Trampling snow on the edge of the Cheviots
12th February 2008 My trip reports seem to taking longer to appear here than I might like so here's a report of a visit that I made to Northumberland at the start of the month. The fine weather coaxed me out this past weekend too but there should be more on those activities to follow, hopefully later this week. Anyway, back to that trip up north...
February was beginning with a very promising outlook for snow and I was very tempted by the prospect. Having the whole weekend free for the first time in a while placed things into a sharper focus. However, the weather warnings that abounded might have tempered those thoughts but for a certain degree of cynicism regarding Met Office weather warnings. I shouldn't be getting the impression that the slightest suggestion of adverse weather results in the issuing of warnings for areas with even the slightest chance of disruption but that's what has been happening. I don't doubt that warnings need to be issued but I'd rather it if the precision was a bit better than what seems to be the case at the moment; then you can treat them with the attention that they should command.
Once I make my mind up that I am going away, I then decide on the destination. Thoughts of snow covered slopes put the idea of heading to Fort William on the the Caledonian Sleeper into my mind. Even with my scepticism of weather warnings, thoughts of marching into the face of a blizzard didn't appeal to me given my lack of experience of snowy conditions. So the Scottish escapade was placed on hold and I cast my eye over the weather map of the U.K. and that turned up Northumberland as an alternative. In particular, the hills near Wooler sounded an enticing proposition. True, I could have hugged the coast and avoided any difficulties but the prospect of trampling the white stuff wasn't at all discouraging.
With the destination decided, it was then a matter of getting there. Friday night saw Macclesfield getting a dusting of snow so I crunched my way to the train station for the first departure of the day for Manchester; this was the right kind of snow: crunchy, grippy and not icy and/or slushy. A change in Piccadilly got onto the train that was to take me to York and there plenty of sightings of snowy moorland on the way to Leeds. However, there was rather too much time to enjoy what looking outside since my train got stuck behind a late local stopping service and a lady suffered a loss/theft onboard (hope everything worked out OK for her since, any delay that I suffered was a minor problem in comparison). The result was that I missed my connection in a non too snowy York and arrived in Berwick-upon-Tweed an hour later than planned. There was no snow in Berwick either but I was to be satisfied that I still continued to Wooler by bus anyway: the white stuff was there for all to see on the hills, even if it had retreated from the lower ground.
I had been in Wooler once before, in September 2006, and I put my previous trip to use on arrival and avoided any dawdling before getting to the hills. The road to Wooler Common retained its dusting of snow and even was icy in places so rushing was not a good option. I didn't and still made my way onto St. Cuthbert's Way in good time to reach the snow after passing through some woodland. The landscape up high was well blanketed so some navigational confusion could be forgiven. However, the presence of good tracks and my having been hereabouts before served me well as I added to my experience of snowy conditions. Like my previous visit, I could only proceed so far before turning back and the turning point this time was further on than the last time. It was something of wrench to tear myself away from the quality Views west towards the Cheviot but I needed to return to civilisation.
A circular walk was in mind but my plans were changed by that late train. For a time, it looked as if my route was about to be an out and back affair until the idea of taking a diversion around by Humbleton came to mind. It was a choice that I was glad to have made as, for some reason, I started to proceed with childish abandon as my boots sank into several inches of powder dry snow. The snow had been dry and hospitable for all of my walk but this episode seems to linger in the memory. It wasn't as if I didn't enjoy the outing and I have thoughts of returning, always a good thing. Maybe, a walk from Wooler to Kirk Yetholm might be in order? Sounds good to me.
Bringing home some Staffordshire mud
7th February 2008 It's amazing how an idea can come to be planted in your head. There was a time when I used the prospect of a dull day to keep me home from the outdoors so to get other important things done. On the other hand, that might have gone too far because I then might have become far too picky about the days on which I headed out unless my determination to get out there was strong enough. Now that I think of it, I suppose that my using the prospect of making pleasant photos as a motivation for my wanderings exacerbated the situation, as did the idea of having a photo to accompany a trip report on this blog.
So, a comment from The Solitary Walker on a previous post was a useful counterpoint to all the above and this year may be the one when I head off into the outdoors without regard for the photographic possibilities. I have decided that it will not be the end of the world if a post sees no photo brightening up its text, so that gets me over one hurdle. In fact, that kind of thinking got me into the outdoors last Sunday week when the prospect of a dull day might have caused me to remain at home to do the usual chores.
Being a country lad, I have never been that bothered by imperfect conditions underfoot and, given the amount of Staffordshire mud that I encountered on my recent outing, that's just as well; thoughts, probably inaccurate, of where they get all the clay for their pottery began to enter the mind. So long as I have dry feet and gaiters to keep the muck out of my boots, I am fine. Of course, you'd never set out to come home muddy, but a misplaced foot is all that it needs sometimes. I recall going through a gate while following the Dane Valley Way in December 2004 where a single step left me with one leg up to the shin in mud so it can easily happen. The muddiness didn't relent after that, something that didn't surprise me because the year in question was far from being a dry one; I reckon that a washout would have been an appropriate description.
Coming back to the trip that inspired this post, a return bus ride on the 108 to Leek was enough to set me up for six hours of quality walking all around Tittesworth Reservoir and the watershed of the River Churnet. Once I managed to find my way out of Leek and onto part of the Staffordshire Moorlands Walks network, I was off tarmac with a good track to get things started. Soggy ground was quickly encountered but not for long and my hike eventually returned me to tarmac until Meerbrook, after which I lost it again. That's when things really got messy and the cause was the springs feeding the reservoir around which I was walking. A chat with a friendly farming type kept me away from what might have been the worst of it as I made my way towards Hen Cloud and the rest of the Roaches. In fact, I was momentarily back on tarmac again before walking up and over Hen Cloud in mild if blustery conditions. I wasn't hoping for sunshine, but that's what greeted me at this point when the seemingly immobile cloud began to break up. It turned a walking day into one fit for photography in less than half an hour, all a very pleasing bonus. There were plenty of cars parked on the side of the road lining the Roaches but I have no idea where everyone else was since I amazingly had Hen Cloud to myself. Some retracing of steps and following another section of the Moorlands Walks took me all the way back to Leek at the end of the satisfying and muddy day. Yes, some of that mud did come home with me but it didn't keep me from using the bus to get back. Neither will it stop me returning...
Relating adventures…
12th January 2008 Like many outdoorsy bloggers, I share my meagre adventures with the world. Of course, they are nothing like Irishman Pat Falvey's recently successful Beyond Endurance expedition to the South Pole. The Antarctic attracted its fair share of Irish with names like Bransfield, Shackleton, Crean, Keohane, Forde and McCarthy gracing the history of the continent's exploration in an era where the exploits were a world away from our interconnected present where websites can convey regular news of progress in a timely manner. In contrast to the blogs of members of Falvey's team like Shaun Menzies and Jonathan Bradshaw, the diaries of those explorers from the past were much slower in becoming publicly available. Having read Sir Ranulph Fiennes' Captain Scott, I detect resonances of similar hardships down through the ages even in the latest stories.
The heroics of Scott, Shackleton et al. were all the more profound given that they were venturing into the unknown; it wasn't as if they could fly back from the South Pole after reaching it, like present day explorers can do; they not only had to reach the pole but they had to return too and that sadly was Scott's undoing. Fiennes' descriptions of the hardships and disasters suffered on Scott's expeditions were so vivid that I needed some gentler reading to give me a break from the grim happenings being described. Damien Enright's A Place Near Heaven returned my imagination to a more temperate climate with is vividly pleasant observations of the activities of nature throughout the seasons in West Cork. Bemused recollections of crows breaking open shellfish by dropping them onto boreens, and puncturing car tyres with the resultant mess, certainly provided light relief. Maybe, I am not cut out for polar exploration.
Another world far away from mine is that of high altitude mountaineering, the type of thing for which the likes of the late Sir Edmund Hilary gained their fame. Names like Alan Hinkes and Chris Bonnington also come to mind. Climbing the world's highest mountains is another activity that more than takes the human body well outside of its zone of comfort. Reading of Irish mountaineer Gavin Bate's pulmonary oedema on Everest in a recent of Walking World Ireland certainly made me shudder (he managed to make his way back down from the death zone and is still very much with us). Stories like that do make one wonder why some people do this and that sort of wonderment brings my thoughts to Robert MacFarlane's Mountains of the Mind. Like Fiennes' book, that too ends with a hero encountering his goal and never returning alive; in Mallory's case, we may never know if he achieved his.
You might be wondering what has brought this lot on. Ironically, it isn't necessarily my wonderment at the exploits of those venturing into extreme places, though that of course plays its part. In the main, the real triggers come from a world more like that described by Damien Enright rather than that frequented by Pat Falvey and his kind. It seems that we Irish, rather than wallowing in the habitual and banal like poet Patrick Kavanagh, would rather relate the exceptional. There is a place for that but I reckon that the world is the poorer for Irish hillwalkers not relating their more accessible adventures in the Irish countryside. I, for one, would have a strong interest in them and, if I were to encounter a good blog musing over walking in Ireland as its mainstay, I'd be more than happy to give it a mention. In the meantime, I really should try to get in a proper hillwalking day over there this year. It shouldn't demand the heroics of Scott and others...
A day out among Staffordshire’s moorlands
11th January 2008 For some reason, Staffordshire has never featured highly in my list of outdoor destinations. Now that I think about it, it does seem strange for two reasons: it's not as if it is far away from me and neither is the area bereft of quality hill country. Accessibility from Macclesfield by public transport might have something to do with it; direct bus services to the likes of Biddulph and Leek are not the most regular. Nevertheless, I have had brushes with the county's countryside while following trails such as the Dane Valley Way (the route of the River Dane forms part of the boundary between Cheshire and Staffordshire) and the Gritstone Trail. In addition, I did enjoy a good day's walking between Leek and Macclesfield in wonderful December sunshine a few years ago.
This time, it was the prospect of a good day of January sunshine that had me champing at the bit. I have to admit that Staffordshire's moorlands weren't top of the list, but the continuation of railway engineering works blighted escapes to other walking destinations. Here's a selection of what I found in my way: Crewe-Preston, Crewe-Shrewsbury, Manchester-Preston, New Mills-Sheffield, Macclesfield-Stoke on Trent and even the Calderdale line. With the shorter days, any extension to travelling time curtails whatever is available for walking; it doesn't seem worthwhile to spend more time travelling than in the outdoors, the whole point of the journey.
For a longer day in the outdoors, I chose to remain near home and I decided on exploring Staffordshire's moorlands. Initially, I had walking in mind but ended trumping for the cycling option on my first hill country outing of the year. Fortuitously, I had restored my bike, which had been idle for most of last year, to road-worthiness and I wanted to take the thing out sometime soon anyway. As I was to remain road-bound, navigation wasn't to be an issue with the only complexities being Leek and a strangely arranged rural crossroads. I followed the A523 all the way to Leek and made my way back via Meerbrook to Rushton Spencer where I rejoined the A523 for the way home. The navigational ease meant that I was left to enjoy whatever views came my way and I indulged in the occasional stop too. Speaking of views, the sight of The Roaches looming ahead while heading out the Buxton road to Blackshaw Moor is the sort of thing that draws me back to the countryside again and again.
Those glorious hill country vistas have a price though: ascents. Somehow, they feel more strenuous on a bicycle than on foot. Staying in low gear might sound like the solution, but the need for constant pedalling still takes its toll on the legs. I find that building up leg strength so that you can remain in higher gears is a better course of action and it helps to build up hillwalking fitness too, no bad thing at all. In fact, that is one of the reasons why I want to do more cycling this year. My journey to and through Staffordshire was to take up and down a goodly number of hills so I took things easy. My pride didn't prevent my dismounting where the gradients might have been too much. The journey between Meerbrook and Rushton Spencer comes to mind as the most testing but splendid views more than made up for my exertions. The other climb that remains in my memory is the stretch of the A523 between Rushton and Leek and Leek is not exactly flat either. Apart from breaks to take in views of Rudyard Reservoir, I stayed in the saddle while travelling on that bit.
I was a bit tired at the end of it, but this was a worthwhile day out. It has me thinking about further incursions into Staffordshire's moorlands, possibly making use of the frequent train connections between Macclesfield and Stoke-on-Trent and the better bus connections between there and destinations such as Leek and Biddulph from where I can go walking. It might take longer to go around by Stoke but it is nice to have that option. The other thought that my first trip of the year has planted in my mind is to go for more cycling outings and I am even thinking beyond Cheshire and Staffordshire on this one. So long as I can stop thoughts of hassle with train travel and the fear of getting marooned by a puncture stymieing my enthusiasm, who knows what could happen? Previously, explorations of Northumberland's coast, Howgill country and Perthshire have come to mind so the possibilities are there. Only time will tell whether I get to do anything about them.
2007: the excursions reviewed
7th January 2008 It's very human to look back at the turn of a year/decade/century/millennium/etc. and, this time last year, I took the opportunity to look over my travels in 2006. In the same vein, I now cast my mind back over the same sort of thing but for 2007 instead. If 2006 was to be the year of seeking out pastures new, then 2007 has been a year largely taken up with following long-distance trails into country familiar to me from a different angle and, more often than not, into country that I am visiting for the first time.
2007 was to start quietly with only one walking excursion in January. The weather didn't tempt but for a day when I went to Chirk for a trek to Llangollen that saw me hop over and back along the Wales-England border before picking up a small piece of the Offa's Dyke Path and leaving that to get to Llangollen before nightfall. It was a case of something old, something new, and put an idea into my head that laid the foundations for a walk later in the year. The long-distance trail ethic that was to pervade my walking in 2007 had made an early appearance.
February built up the long-distance trail trend with my exploring two trails. First up was the Pennine Way, with a hike from Hebden Bridge to Littleborough giving me a feel for the moors above Calderdale. Walks along the Pennine Way, still unfinished business in 2008, were to pervade my outings until the end of April. My second excursion took me up to Scotland for the southernmost part of the West Highland Way: Milngavie to Drymen. This was also a case of going into countryside new to me and, like the Calderdale trot, it was to give rise to more excursions later on.
The Pennine Way hiking continued in March, and it started again early in the month with a trek that saw me return to Calderdale for a walk from Todmorden to Burnley by way of both the Pennine Way and the Pennine Bridleway. This was followed up at the end of the month when I yomped from Haworth to Burnley.
My Pennine wanderings were set to continue in April and the first one plugged a gap in the itinerary from Edale to Haworth: Marsden to Littleborough via Wessenden Reservoir. It was to prove a claggy day until lunchtime, something that very much focussed the mind when it came to navigation. My next day along the Pennine Way was in clearer if blustery conditions. It also was to take me through some of the best countryside on the Pennine Way as I voyaged from Horton-in-Ribblesdale to Hawes. Rain was to beset me on my next excursion as I left Malham Tarn to head for Gargrave, but I left the rain after me in Malham and things cheered up immeasurably as I was nearing my destination for the day. Those two excursions left a gap that was filled on a tramp from Malham Tarn over Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent to Horton on a day that when it felt like summer.
I started May with another trip blessed by fair weather. After years of admiring it, I finally made my way up to the top of Skiddaw. Some may view the manicured lines of the "tourist track" that I followed as dull, I'd rather not scare myself with descents that are too steep, so I well appreciated its gentler approach and I still found time to take in Little Man and Lattrigg as well. Next up in May was a trip that my memory reckons happened in July; it's just as well that I have this blog! I made my return to Chirk for another stroll along the Offa's Dyke Path, this time to Oswestry. Cloud predominated on the day, so photographic opportunities were rare. Even so, it didn't stop my having a good walk in countryside that was new to me. If I had more time, I would have dawdled more, so it might time for a return. In walking terms, the month of May went out with a bang: a two-day trek on the West Highland Way along the banks of Loch Lomond with an overnight stay in Rowardennan. I very much took a chance with the weather on this one, but Scotland didn't let me down on what is, for me, one of the finest stretches of the WHW.
June was to be a quieter month regarding walking and the long evenings were allowing me to get out in the part of Cheshire's hill country that is near me. These outings were to become a feature of the "summer". June soon became a sodden affair, yet I still returned to Rhinog country for a creditable stroll through a landscape that was anything but dry. The weather that we were getting was a foretaste of what was to come, making 2007 a year of two halves: one fabulous and one that returned us to reality. Alan Sloman was lucky to complete his LEJOG when he did.
July was for many a washout, yet I managed to get two decent Lakeland excursions out of the month. Both involved my heading to Windermere, with the first being an over and back hike to Kentmere and the second being a trek to Staveley via Kentmere. On both outings, I enjoyed the fine scenery in excellent weather, something that must sound ironic to those sodden by the floods of 2007. Yes, water had accumulated underfoot, but the worst difficulties, if any, were avoidable.
August saw me finishing two long-distance trails and starting on another one. The first to be completed was the West Highland Way, and that happened on my now habitual summertime stay in Scotland. That saw me complete of perhaps the noisiest stretch of the trail: that between Bridge of Orchy and Inverarnan and with some sun to enliven the views too. The other walking that I did during that trip was a soggy reconnaissance trip among the hills near Kinlochleven. The other trail completed was one passing not far from where I live: the Gritstone Trail. Hikes from Macclesfield to Congleton and from Eaton to Kidsgrove in pleasant conditions allowed me to bring my walking of the trail towards a good end. A final evening stroll was sufficient for me to walk the final short stretch around Bollington before I then walked home to my house. The bank holiday weekend at the end of the month allowed me the opportunity to start off the Rob Roy Way by walking from Drymen to Callander, with an overnight stay in Aberfoyle. This got me into nice countryside that I hadn't visited before, and it seems more than worthy of a return.
After what must sound like a bountiful August, hillwalking activities were less prevalent for the rest of the year, even if I had planned not to have things slow down. September and November stand out as months when you could have said that I had gone into hibernation. October saw me head out for a local constitutional to take in the Autumn colour, follow streams in local hill country and visit the South Pennines for a hike that was lacking in any real progress on completing the missing link in my Pennine Way journey. In December, I decided to vanquish any sense of hibernation by another wander among the hills lining the Cheshire-Derbyshire border, followed up by a fleeting unintended visit to the hill country of the Long Mynd near Church Stretton.
All in all, 2007 was another good walking year for me. Unless you lost out in the flooding (and I don't envy anyone who did: hope it all works out all right for them), it would be a travesty to remember 2007 for its sodden summer when we had so much clement weather earlier in the year. As it happens, the continual greyness that pervaded nearly all of 2004 remains with me, with 2007's bright spots easily causing me to forget any grey bits. The proverbial question of what 2008 will bring does raise its head, as it is wont to do; so also is the realisation that the future is not ours to see (we're probably better off!). I never go in for big plans anyway, but that doesn't stop me having ideas in my mind for when the opportunities to explore them arise. We'll see what happens...
