Category: Scotland
Taken by surprise again?
28th May 2009 About this time last year, I was feeling a tad sore after a weekend in Scotland where I was surprised by some of the best weather that I had seen there in a while. It was as if I was taken by surprise and reluctantly left because I was of the opinion, rightly or wrongly, that a certain lack of planning meant that I may not have made the most of it. Looking back on it now, it may not have been as wasted an opportunity as I thought it to be at the time. After all, that Sunday sojourn on Kerrera sharpened my appreciation of island scenery and perhaps inspired the Hebridean island hopping session that occupied me for a week later on in the year.
This year, with various things that have been going on in my life together with a stretch of lacklustre weather, I would have been forgiven for being surprised by the weather yet again, just like last year in fact. Now that I think of it, the weather has behaved similarly on both times. The run up to the same weekend last year would have been no preparation for what eventually arrived either. However, there is an important distinction between the two years: the locations blessed by good weather. Last year, Scotland got it better and had a generally good May with the TGO Challenge seeing more dry sunny days than usual. England did better this time around but it all depended on where you were and when you were there; it turned wet in Cheshire on Monday.
Overall, Cheshire did well with a steadily improving Saturday that coaxed me out on the bike in the evening time after an afternoon shopping expediton. Sunday was even better and I spent my afternoon and evening on a stroll from Leek back home by way of Tittesworth Reservoir and Danebridge. On Monday, I popped up to Cumbria to hike the Cumbria Way from Coniston to Skelwith Bridge before skirting Loughrigg Fell on the way to Ambleside. That was the cause of taking me through a honeypot or two (Tarn Hows comes to mind as a particular fleshpot) but the quieter parts more than made up for this.
One plan did fall by the wayside and that was the idea of following the Derwent Valley Heritage Way north from Baslow until either Grindleford, Hathersage or Bamford; the end point was to depend on progress and the time of the next train home from either of these stations. The plot certainly was fluid but a late bus caused its abandonment on Sunday so it goes onto the ideas shelf for another time. Another route option is to go around by Baslow Edge, Curbar Edge and Froggat Edge, proper hill wandering if you will and a variation of the original theme, but that also still awaits its opportunity and goes beside the DVHW on that proverbial shelf.
All in all, I cannot declare 2009's Spring Bank Holiday weekend wasted and, anyway, that's not the way that I feel about it at all. Any period of time that allowed chances for walks and cycles can only have been used well and, as if that were not enough, it has sown the seeds for future excursions too so it has been more than fruitful. Having more good weather than was expected can be a test too because you need to pick where you want to go when the temptation is to go out and gorge yourself; having only so much time has its uses. Trip reports for the walks themselves should follow but there's the prospect of good weather next weekend so that may cause the postponement of their appearance. Of course, that depends on how things come together and only time will tell on that score.
Still here…
8th May 2009 I don't know which JH Darren Christie had in mind when he included a link to here among his illustrious list of blogging TGO Challengers. What I do know is that I'd be extremely surprised if it was me and I hope that I haven't disappointed you with that admission. For one thing, I don't believe that I've ever mentioned the Challenge on here before so I suspect that the link came (many thanks, anyway) amid the last minute rush before departure. Getting ready for something like this cannot be the simplest of tasks and I wish all of them the very best in their endeavours. Doubtless, there will some tales appearing online in time and I only hope that they are happy ones.
However, the episode does prompt a question for me about the Challenge and this is its thirtieth year, after all: what about it? There is one thing in its favour, and that should be apparent from various blog postings that you find here, is that the parts of Scotland through which an itinerary would take me are among my favourite parts of the world. Nevertheless, the idea of a two week crossing adds other points to ponder. Back to back multi-day treks are something that I really haven't been doing much since I finished off the West Highland Way and made a more concerted start on the Rob Roy Way. Then, there's the matter of lessening dependence on serviced accommodation (well, hostelling is gaining some favour with me over hotels and guest houses) in favour of a more independent alternative; some may use the former option for the whole Challenge but it seems to be the exception rather the rule. After that, there's the subject of personal fitness and I very much realise that work is needed there too.
So, my answer to the question of doing the challenge is not just yet. What I am not saying is that it is not for me because many of the things that I enjoy these days were activities that I was happy to leave for other folk at one point. Apart from the whole hill wandering habit, this is true to an extent also of how I earn my living. When you ease yourself into something at your own pace, things start to happen and heaven only knows how far you'll get.
In the meantime, the longer days of summer are now at hand. Of course, that is no guarantee of fine weather in these parts and I don't like it too hot anyway. Even with those caveats, my mind is turning to multi-day excursions again. Having a selection of Graham Uney's Backpacker's Britain Cicerone Guides, I shouldn't be short of a few ideas and the prospect of managing walks for which public transport logistics might be tricky has a certain footloose appeal. Much of Chris Townsend's The Backpacker's Handbook has been read and there is nothing at all to stop re-readings. Gear has been building over time up but more acquisitions remain in order. What I really need to do is decide when I am sufficiently equipped for stepping just across that threshold from walker to backpacker while not going in too deep too soon; that should keep the wish list under control. Suspicions are building that there could be some tinkering and familiarisation before I embark on anything more adventurous. A summer of exploring the paraphernalia of independent backpacking might be no bad thing, even without their being used in anger on an escapade.
A first outing among the Cairngorms
30th April 2009 The trouble with going somewhere for the first time is that you need to decide what to see. That reality is heightened when there are so many options that there is an embarrassment of riches. My Easter visit to Aviemore was a good example of this last point, in every way. The weather could not have been better so it would have been a pity to waste that too. Having only a day available to me for on foot explorations meant that making best use of it was very much in mind.
In the end, I opted for a walk around the Rothiemurchus Estate to savour as many sights as possible. Leafing through Ronald Turnbull's Cicerone guide, Walking in the Cairngorms, revealed a tempting option in the shape of Creag Dhubh and the Argyll Stone but I ruled out the idea of a quick ascent of a single hill in favour of a deeper incursion that took in more of the surrounding scenery. The prospect of a trot up Gleann Eanaich was also sorely tempting but I, perhaps erroneously now that I look at it again, thought it to be too confining an idea. It might have its difficulties at the time but leaving something for later has its rewards when one idea unleashes many more.
Getting from Aviemore to Inverdruie meant facing progress over tarmac. However, a short off-road crossing over the Spey and the presence of useful roadside footways provided some relief, as did the ambiance of a sunny morning. Inverdruie was where I left tarmac after me for a while to pick up a pleasant footpath through heather-carpeted heath with a good scattering of pines. That took me by Lochan Mor where I lingered a little while I enjoyed the pure idyll that was on offer. It's the sort of spot where you could stop all day in the right conditions but I was minded to go further.
At Milton Cottage, I met up with tarmac again and watched with some amazement as a truck negotiated a narrow bridge with some difficulty before I continued to Loch an Eilean after it had passed. At the loch, where tarmac was left after me until evening and I could have got to Creag Dhubh from here if that was my plan. The tracks are good and were playing host to cyclists as well as walkers, so a certain state of alertness was very much in order.
Another meeting of tracks was where I might have turned for Loch Eanaich (or Einich if you prefer; the OS uses both spellings) and the crags above it. They certainly look dramatic on OS maps so I suppose that they are yet another addition to the ideas shelf. I stayed my course to pass Lochan Deo and crossed Am Beanaidh using the Cairngorm Club Footbridge. My onward progress was to have me shadow Allt Druidh, as I continued on in the direction of the Lairig Ghru.
After another meeting of paths called Piccadilly, I took the one signposted as being for the said famed mountain pass. It was at this point that I left any gentle strollers and cyclists for quieter terrain. That allowed me a spot of lunch-taking before commencing my ascent. That ascent was steady rather than tiring, but the results of any labours were there to be seen, particularly whenever I looked behind.
However, I wasn't bound for Lairig Ghru; I was happy with a glimpse of that pass and what surrounds it. Instead, the idea of mounting Creag a' Chalamain and Castle Hill became a prospect. Sticking with the Chalamain Gap wouldn't have left me disappointed either. Being mindful of time, I decided against the roundabout route followed by the tracks shown on my map for a more direct and cross-country route. Whatever doubts may have lain in the back of my mind regarding the strength of my legs were dispelled as I made my way up the slopes. It didn't take so long to reach the track that I would have been following if I had been using the route marked on my map.
My eventual course to the top of a hill was made all too tempting by the sight of a good clear track up the side of Creag a' Chalamain from the gap. The reward for my energy expenditure was ample views of all that lay about me. The experience laid the seed of an idea for resolving hill identification questions, an occasional bugbear of mine: to work out what hills feature in one of your photos, get on top of one of them to simplify your view of the landscape. Cairngorm and Braeriach lay among the cornucopia that lay about me. Both were holding on to snow with the latter really succeeding in its hoarding of the white stuff. By staying lower down, I was avoiding any such difficulties.
Hopping over to Castle Hill didn't cost me much in labour or in views either. Loch Morlich and Lochan Dubh a' Chadha lay beneath me with lower hummocks like Airgiod Meall, Craiggowrie, Creagan Gorm and Meall a' Bhuachaille being easy to pick out from the map in my possession. I probably should have dropped into Eag a' Chait to pick up a path to Rothiemurchus Lodge, but my meandering course took me further east around the hillside before I gingerly picked my way down a steep slope to join an alternative track to the same place. This was to be no exact route march and I didn't mind so long as I knew where I was and remained safe; there are bigger worries in life than whether a route was followed exactly or not.
Given that I was now on more level terrain, I snatched some time for a breather after Rothiemurchus Lodge before scotching any ambitions to visiting the shores of Loch Morlich in favour of a return to base. Ironically, my route back to Aviemore was to take me not far from the said loch before I headed along another track to join the one that I had been using that morning. Somewhere along the way, my brain had jumped a time zone to CET, or double summer time if you like, to reduce the perceived amount of time that I had until the light failed. This silly development would have been worse if it lured me into a false sense of security so I'll be more careful in future. It might be after so many years with digital watch faces that using one with an analogue style has not become second nature to me just yet and I've had it a few years. Still, the last time my brain jumped time zone was on a walk among the Brecon Beacons a few years and the movement was in the same direction and with the same watch too. Maybe, a return to digital displays is in order...
That mental time shift did not deprive me of the ability to enjoy the walk back in the late evening sunlight. If anything, its direction and its warmth of colour suited my surroundings better. Naturally, photographic activity continued as I plied the paths and tracks on my way back to base. That there were less folk about added to the sense of relaxation too as I reached Piccadilly to begin reversing my outward route. From there, it was back over the Cairngorm Club Footbridge, past Lochan Deo to reach Loch an Eilean again. From the latter, I stayed on tarmac for the journey to Inverdruie rather than reprising my earlier off-road route. Traffic was light so I only had to contend with the effects of tarmac bashing on my feet. From Inverdruie, I reversed the way that I had earlier trodden with a stop to give directions to two young ladies in a car wanting the SYHA hostel. It was after they had left that I wondered about having joined them for the sake of giving better directions because that's where I was staying too. There was another cause for that perhaps aberrant brainwave: the tarmac tramping was taking its toll. There was woodland prior to my crossing of the Spey so I pottered along a softer track there for some respite. In the meantime, my brain had returned to BST and I felt a bit of an idiot but was glad to have had the extra hour anyway. It had been the only real howler on an otherwise stellar and long day of walking in Highland countryside with a different feel from that to which I have been accustomed.
It might be the presence of well-maintained paths and tracks along with the mixture of heather and pine trees that covered the ground but I got the impression that this was a drier part of the Highlands than other areas that I have explored before now. Even the higher slopes seemed to possess none of the boggy stuff. That's not to say that I met no messy conditions underfoot because the track that I joined after coming off Castle Hill was very rough, but that was the exception to the norm as far as my hike was concerned. Geology and weather might also have their part to play. After all, the Cairngorms do lie in the east, so the rain-bearing westerlies might have to jettison much of their cargo by the time that they get this far. Then, there's the hand of humankind too. Whatever the causes, my surroundings felt a world apart from the sogginess that I have encountered in the west and that was without the airborne moistness that I have met in parts of Argyll and Lochaber. Yomps from Corrour train station to Spean Bridge and from Loch Awe train station to Taynuilt by way of Glen Kinglass certainly took over sodden terrain but my taste of Badenoch felt very different to this.
From an Easter weekend for which the forecast was none too promising, I managed to extract a decent walk. Having a well-stocked ideas shelf and some spare time meant that a getaway proved possible when things started to look better for the U.K. The rain stayed in Ireland to saturate the countryside and annoy people like my father. I suppose that it sounds perverse to have some gaining from the discomfort of others and it's not the first time that I remember that happening but I suppose that's life.
Having possibilities is all very fine but I have found that they can cause indecision and delay too. That's when I find that having an informal pecking order helps and having not walked in Scotland for a little while pushed the Cairngorms plan higher up the wish list. Saying that, it helped that it was possible to book a place to stay at the Aviemore SYHA too. Having that option open to me meant that unexpected good weather wasn't left to go to waste and more ideas not populate that walking wish list either. Those may form part of a longer visit yet, but that's only a pipe dream right now.
Travel Details:
Whichever way that you do it, this is a long schlep from Macclesfield. It's the sort of journey that makes the Caledonian Sleeper an appealing idea were it not for the cost. Still, if you allow the time and avoid engineering works, a return train works out well enough if a little on the expensive side. Travelling at Easter, as I did, meant that engineering works on the West Coast mainline sent me around by York to Edinburgh before continuing to Inverness. Logistically, I needn't have done it on the way back, but return ticketing was probably best from the cost point of view. Flying is another idea, but times aren't always in your favour and I'm not certain how they'd cope with walking poles unless a duffel bag came too. Of course, there's the environmental consequences to be considered too. Sitting back on a train with a music player and something to read isn't so bad, is it?
Easter journeys
10th April 2009 No doubt, many news outlets are in the throes of reporting the now habitual Easter weekend exodus. My use of the word "exodus" is perhaps not inappropriate given that Jews are celebrating Passover at the moment, but a later journey gave us Easter and the weekend that, so many are using to their advantage. Conveniently for a blog celebrating the joys of walking in the outdoors, the Exodus was a long-distance walk to freedom and safety while Easter celebrates something else that featured walking in different ways.
Returning to the here and now, past Easters have allowed me opportunities for walking escapades. Two years ago, I got to collect up walks that covered part of the Pennine Way between Gargrave and Hawes. The previous year saw me end up on the island of Arran while three years before saw me wandering the High Peak. Other Easters have not been so fruitful with last year's being a time of clearing clutter, mental and otherwise. For me, it also has been a time for starting a new job, moving home as well as dealing with other "life events", a mixed bag really.
Those thoughts of past Easters are leading me to wonder what I am going to make of this one. The weather that is on offer this year looks like a bit of a mixture, but seeing some sun and drying between any showers would suffice; some Easters have been fabulous, but this will not be one of them if the forecasts and the sight of rain falling outside my window is to be any guide. Nothing definite is planned, but something may fall into place before all is over. I reckon that I need to get my thinking hat on...
Walking among trees: pleasure or penance?
24th March 2009 My ongoing updates to the photo gallery (my attention is drifting towards the Argyll & Mull section at the time of writing) has caused my eye to fall upon coniferous forestry more often than not. It seems that my journeys in search of wilder countryside have taken through me by more plantations than I care to remember. Scotland is particular prone to them, it seems, but my native Éire has them too, a consequence of government policy in the 1960's and after. I seem to remember from secondary school geography lessons that statements like adding to the visual appeal of the landscape and making good use of marginal land were stated as its advantages. The first of these is a matter of personal taste but the second is being challenged by the realisation that marginal land only yields wood of a quality perhaps only useful for paper manufacture has since dawned upon our collective consciousness. It seems that some such plantations could be left without felling because their economic value cannot justify the expenditure involved. All in all, the advance of coniferous woodland wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.
Whatever the reservations may be, even I have to admit these commercial plantations have allowed the opportunity to create recreational spaces from which to escape our cluttered lives. In Ireland, trips to the likes of the Ballyhoura Mountains or Gougane Barra cannot be managed without the sight of conifers and they accompanied my early introductions to the pleasure of exploring hill country. In latter times, many a trek in Scotland has had me encountering similar sights.
It almost goes without saying that some plantations are more walker friendly than others. Ireland's forestry agency, Coillte, is one of the better owners and I ask myself how many Looped Walks or off road sections of the Waymarked Ways there would be without them. Also coming up for an honourable mention is the Forestry Commission with their work on paths and tracks around Loch Long and Glen Croe. They also made a contribution to the development of the Rob Roy Way in the shape of the way marking that I found useful while following the trail from Drymen to Callander.
Even with these helping hands, passage through plantations should never be taken for granted and I have caused myself torment of this kind more often than I should have. All it takes for an OS map to be unhelpful is for a new track to appear or an old one to become overgrown or obstructed. The ensuing navigational confusion can lead you to do things like my reaching the A85 in cross country fashion while walking from Inverarnan to Dalmally. It's not the only lesson teaching me never to rush woodland walking unless I know really well where I am going.
Aside from navigation, the other downside of passing through forestry is that you often cannot see the wider vistas that surround you. That point can be driven home rather too firmly by an outbreak of sod's law where the sun is released from its cloudy lair when the trees block your view only for it to be hidden again when you finally reach open country. In days when the prospects of capturing those panoramic views was a stronger draw for me, misgivings about woodland walking arose from this very kind of thing. There are times when the trees are felled to release the vistas but the challenge of making pleasing photos while avoiding having the remaining wreckage in the foreground rears its head on you.
While on the subject of photography, it has to be said that broadleaved woodland probably does you more favours than the conifers with their homogeneous and near unchanging hues; they do need the surrounding countryside to help them for wider views. For one thing, there's more diversity on the floor of one of the former and I have memories of the extensive bluebell glades etched in my mind from a yomp along the bonny banks of Loch Lomond to bag the WHW between Inverarnan and Drymen. The colours of new growth in May is another pleasure and any unease at the year reaching its autumnal phase is at least partly dispelled by the sights of the russets, oranges and yellows in the trees. It's the sort of thing that has brightened up many a lunchtime walk for me and there's birdsong too to make it a truly audiovisual experience. It's these sorts of experiences that soothed any misgivings about woodland walking that I may have had but coniferous forests have their pleasures too and you can always get above the tree line.
