Category: Europe
A spot of recce in Gougane Barra
3rd May 2007 Last weekend saw pop over to Éire to see the folks for the first time since the Christmas break. It also saw me revisiting Gougane (pronounced guugawn) Barra, where the River Lee rises, on the Sunday. This place is one of my father's favourite places and even with cloudy skies and a cloud base approaching the 500 metre level, you could still see why. Seeing it on a sunny day and being able to explore it in a bit more depth would have been ideal but my 90 minutes off the leash (my parents are not really into walking but they have bequeath me a love of the countryside) allowed for a good few record shorts capturing ideas for any return. Still, the weather remained dry for our stay, a bonus since we had passed through mist, murk and light rain while we made our way there.
Gougane is place with two sides to it: Valley Desmond and an eponymous lake with an island hosting the ruins of an old monastery and a small church. The lake sits outside Valley Desmond and collects the waters of the juvenile Lee before it continues its onward journey towards Cork city where it meets the sea in Cork harbour. The monastic ruins once hosted a religious community found by Cork city's patron saint, Finbarr. Given how old it is, it is amazing how much remains in good condition and it is hard to fault its setting but it is well frequented.
Nowadays, Valley Desmond is owned by Coillte, the Irish forestry agency (it's the Irish word for forests or woods and is pronounced queellte), and ubiquitous conifers line the hills from whose craggy slopes the waters of the juvenile Lee gather. There was a time before the invasion of commercial forestry but there was no access for the public back then like there is today. Coillte, like any state-owned custodian of commercial forest, does do its bit to encourage visitors and they charge for entry too, though you could be lucky in the off season. For the money, you get parking and a reasonable network of paths; in fact, this network is being treated to a spot of maintenance right now with bridge replacements and surface improvements taking place. It was on these paths that I went for a stroll and some of them do get you above the tree line for views of the lake, among other things. The hills around here may not be that high - the Irish have a penchant for calling anything above 400 metres high a mountain but that's a discussion for another day - but the thoughts of delving deeper do appeal to me.
New Lonely Planet book on Scottish Hillwalking
18th April 2007 When passing through Leeds on my Easter Yorkshire Dales excursions, I popped into Waterstones and spotted that Lonely Planet has finally updated its guide to walking in Scotland. The previous edition dated from 2001, so it might have been time for an update. Six years can be a long time, sometimes.
Being easily persuaded, I acquired a copy to see what's in the new one. There are changes to the routes featured, but I'll hang on to my copy of the first edition as there seem to be a number of changes to the featured walking routes and I might find some use for it yet.
On the surface, not much has changed with the included walking information, apart from updates to the text and changes to the presentation. These include putting the walking information chapters at the back and adding glossy sections at the front containing a good supply of colour photos. Nevertheless, dig deeper and more of the changes appear.
The recently enacted Scottish access legislation must surely have had an impact, as walks in the Campsie Fells and Ochil Hills are now headline inclusions. New routes such as the John Buchan Way between Peebles and Broughton now get a mention. Some previously featured routes now find themselves in the Other Walks sections at the end of the chapters, along with new additions such as the Rob Roy Way that goes from Drymen to Pitlochry.
Another fate for previous headline routes is that they find themselves in boxes sitting outside the main text. Classic routes such as the Aonach Eagach ridge or the ascent of Ben Nevis via the Carn Mor Dearg arête find themselves in this position. Given the level of challenge associated with these, that may be wise, for these are not beginner's routes.
Pennine Way adventures in the Yorkshire Dales: Part 3
16th April 2007 The weekend forecast got me returning to Yorkshire for the continuation of my Pennine Way quest, this time for a day trip on Saturday. The fact that I had no driving lesson to do allowed me to head off. It was an over and back trip with no overnight stays involved. My target was to head from Malham Tarn to Horton-in-Ribblesdale, crossing Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent along the way. To get there, I caught the first train from Macclesfield to Manchester at 07:10 and onward connections via Leeds got me to Settle in time for the 11:30 minibus to Malham.
That got me to Malham Tarn around 10:45 and the prospect was much, much better than it was on Easter Monday. The spring sunshine, however hazy, lit up the scene more fully than I had ever seen it before; my 2002 visit was a cloud-bound affair. I retraced my steps around the tarn and made my way to Tennant Gill, from where the ascent of Fountains Fell began. That ascent is a long-drawn-out affair, but with the prevailing conditions, it was a delight, though the day was beginning to heat up. With my now well-worn OS OL2 map duly changed over to the correct side (the breeze and the bone dry conditions underfoot meant that it was placed on the ground to do this), I trooped over the fell, only to lose a lot of the height that I had gained.
The bulk of Pen-y-Ghent was temptingly close, though some miles were to be trodden before I was to reach it; the Pennine Way never goes at anything directly... After a spot of road walking to Dale Head, the ascent began again. Strangely, it didn't seem to take a lot out of me until I encountered that testing step near the top of Pen-y-ghent. Maybe, it was my taking it nice and easy, so that explains it. Nevertheless, I always find it strange that the Pennine Way goes up and over Pen-y-ghent when it could easily go around it. That would avoid the piece of clambering over limestone slabs that nearly caused me to bottle it. Nevertheless, I did conquer myself and go to the top of Pen-y-ghent for the second time. On the event, I did feel a little queasy after the clambering, and I don't know whether it was vertigo or something else that caused it.
My first trip up Pen-y-ghent followed the Pennine Way from Horton, but an inspection of the map convinced me, rightly in my view, not to come down the southern slopes of the hill; that was where I ascended on my second visit. Instead, I walked over Plover Hill and came off that way. The way down was still steep, yet I managed it, and I then followed a bridleway from Foxup Moor until I rejoined the Pennine Way to return to Horton. That was in April 2004 when the wall on the top of Pen-y-ghent was a standard affair with two stiles over it. Then, I got myself told off for descending from one of those in the wrong fashion as I was heading for the hill's trig point; I had been facing away from the wall rather towards it. Later that year, a spot of refurbishment was carried out, and this added wind shelters and more manageable stiles than the traditional wooden ones that did the job previously. Apparently, it was done to celebrate 50 years of the Yorkshire Dales National Park.
Returning to the second Pen-y-ghent encounter, the seats in the wind shelters allowed me to rest a while in an attempt to settle myself down before the descent to Horton. That descent is known territory to me from my previous outing, and I took it easy and enjoyed the way down as much as possible; without walking poles this is a knee-jarring stretch, so my full attention was required. It is also a stretch where you should not be rushing to catch a train, so I discarded any thoughts of using the 17:44 departure, which proved to be just as well; I would have been more than 15 minutes late. The evening was glorious, and I rediscovered views that I first encountered three years previously. Awaiting the 19:29 train allowed me to fully settle down after the day's exertions. Though that train was late, I still got home as I had planned, and the day out had been as good as I had hoped.
Pennine Way adventures in the Yorkshire Dales: Part 2
13th April 2007 I spent my Easter Monday journeying between Malham Tarn and Gargrave. Apart from the absence of platform information on the departure screens in Leeds train station, travelling to Settle was an uneventful affair; a quick word with station staff set the world to rights as to what platform to use. Once in Settle, I awaited the minibus service to Malham Tarn.
In Settle, the weather was cloudy, but Malham Tarn was shrouded in dense fog. Even so, I took a stroll around the tarn before breaking from the Pennine Way to take the road down towards Malham. As I followed the road, the fog turned to rain and my Rab Latok jacket got its first true wet weather test and it performed well. Eventually, I was to leave the road on a public footpath that reunited me with the Pennine Way, and I continued until the top of Malham Cove. By that time, I had got the sense that wet limestone was too slippery for my liking. Also, given that a walk from Hebden to Malham in July 2002 had proceeded along the Pennine Way between Malham Tarn and Malham, I decided that a diversion would not be a shameful act and had allowed me more pragmatism during the prior bout of road walking. Therefore, I picked up the footpath to another road that dropped me into Malham, where I indulged myself with an ice cream and a bottle of Lucozade Sport from the shop at the bridge.
By then, the rain had cleared, though dampness still pervaded the air. So, it was with resting waterproofs that I again picked up the Pennine Way on my southbound itinerary. The mist still pervaded the heights and dark skies prevailed, yet my walk was enjoyable nonetheless. Even with that atmosphere, Malham was still the honey trap that it always is, but I was soon to escape the throng, if that's the right expression. Flat riverbank walking was to be my lot following a spot of up and down at Hanlith; for the next few miles, bell ringing from the church at Kirkby Malham was to enliven the air. As I got beyond Airton, I begin to see signs of what proved to be an improvement in the weather, and this improvement began to make itself known as I crossed the Aire to begin an ascent of Eshton Moor.
That ascent was to precede a bout of rather disgraceful field navigation, but I found my feet. Navigating my way across fields has never been a strong point of mine, and having multi-cornered examples did little to help me. Nevertheless, some calm thought and map reading proved up to the task of reorienting myself and enjoy what had by now become a very pleasant view in the sunshine; it made the whole day and my camera(s) were set to work. Though lacking in height, Flasby Fell proved a wonderful muse. I eventually made my way onto the road into Gargrave, which had lost the sun by the time of my arrival. Again crossing the Aire, I continued to the train station where an approaching train took me to Skipton, from where I continued my onward journey.
Pennine Way adventures in the Yorkshire Dales: Part 1
12th April 2007 Easter Sunday saw me tackle the section of the Pennine Way between Horton-in-Ribblesdale and Hawes. It is mostly on good tracks through open country with big skies. That the day itself was sun-drenched added to the enjoyment.
Transport to Horton didn't work to plan and could have derailed the proceedings. Rail engineering works between Leeds and Shipley meant that trains were replaced by coaches and we ended up with a coach driver who didn't know where he was going. That he turned up late as well didn't help matters either. The result was that those on the coach wanting to proceed to stations on the Settle-Carlisle railway missed our connection. As you can imagine, there was a spot of confusion before we ended up on a train to Skipton from where taxis got us to our destinations; information screens didn't aid our cause either.
The Sunday morning laggardness with transport made my start from Horton an hour later than planned, but that wasn't to make much of a difference to my enjoyment of the day at all. From the YDNP car park, I made my way onto the track that was to carry me on towards Birkwith Moor and there were ample views of glorious Three Peaks country. In its vicinity, the Pennine Way leaves the track to pick up another near Old Ing. Between tracks, a very nice reconstructed path performs the honours with suitable deterrents for those wanting to take wheeled transport over it.
From Old Ing, another track drops you into Ling Gill nature reserve (I took a spot of lunch between these points with a view of the Ribblehead Viaduct in the distance and the rest was welcome too) before you are hauled out again to join the rutted High Cam Road at Cam End. I very soon encountered the reason for the ruts: green lane enthusiasts with their off-road vehicles.
While I was unsure as to the legality of their enterprise, I left them be rather than starting a futile one-man protest against it. Seeing people driving vehicles at little more than walking speed does make me wonder at what they get out of their pursuit when walking would be more carefree.
Eventually, my wandering took me on to a tarmac road before I left that for yet another track, one without ruts this time. However, while I should have been enjoying the delights of the sights below, a strong wind began to harry me. With the shelter of a stone wall, things weren't too bad but it didn't last. Care was required so that I didn't get blown over and this was at 500–600 metres above sea level. I'd hate to think what things would have been like higher up. It was with some relief that I left that track to continue on the Pennine Way as it descended to the Hawes on the floor of Wensleydale; the breeze was then at my back until the hills started to offer some shelter. Eventually, I encountered Gayle and wound my way on to Hawes.
I reached Hawes at around 17:30 after a ca. 11:00 departure from Horton, so good progress was made. If things had gone to plan with the trip to Horton, I might even have caught a bus taking me all the way back to Leeds. Instead, I had an hour to kill in a pleasant Yorkshire town until a bus took me to Northallerton for an onward train journey; sadly too short for a meal in a pub or even for a fish supper at the chippy. The slow service of the latter and its vibrant trade ensured that I didn't succumb to any temptations. It was a matter of finding a quiet corner and relaxing in the sunshine after a wonderful day; finding the right bus stop in the town's marketplace was also a priority, but that wasn't to prove too painful. The next phase of my Pennine Way adventures from here might allow me to sample more of Hawes' delights, yet that's for the future.
