Outdoor Discoveries

How far west?

One thing that is easy to forget is that the British mainland is not aligned along the Greenwich meridian but at an angle to it. One of the effects of that state of affairs is that Edinburgh and Manchester are nearly lined up in a straight north-south line, even if shadowing the coast and finding a line of least resistance through any hill country means that your route gains an elbow and that certainly is the case if you travel by train. Travel on the East Coast Mainline also veers away from what might be termed direct with the result that the journey time between Newcastle and Edinburgh is of the order of 90 minutes.

The cause of this being brought to my attention was my pondering a short getaway that arrests any decline into end of year torpor or, better still, punctuates it so much that it is stopped in its tracks. During these episodes of plotting, eyes are cast over maps and that's when it came home to me that I was next to immediately north of Donegal in Éire when I was on South Uist last year. What really made this plain were the similarities in the predicted weather for Wicklow and Mallaig for the coming weekend when I last looked on Metcheck. However, you do need a longitudinal west/east split to make this kind of thing plain, especially to make it dawn on you for the first time. Of course, a split can be north/south or any other combination too as the weather enjoyed on my trip to the Western Isles was to prove.

As regards my plotting, that is a work in progress so things are in a fluid state. The good thing about that is that I wouldn't be ruling out the possibility of a short Scottish escapade if it makes me an offer. After all, when you fancy rupturing a continuity that feels like a rut, taking yourself somewhere else for a little while is just the thing. If the everyday clutter can be left behind you and there is a chance of a fresh start, it works even better. For me, this is what the long break around Christmas and New Year does every year but once a year can never be enough. In fact, it is for that very reason that I want to disembark for while from the juggernaut that could land me on the doorstep of that much hyped season before I know it. Letting life carry you along is too easy so clearing some space and time to force a restart as well as allowing those batteries to be recharged only can be a good thing.

Unto Yorkshire again

Outings beget photos and photos can beget ideas for more outings. In recent weeks, I have been sprucing up the Yorkshire Dales photo collection that I have on display for all to see on the web. Many of these were taken on negative film, so new scans of old prints were attempted in order to make more of the results. Back then, I did things with my SLR that I would try to avoid now. Included among these would be a determined attempt at picture making in the middle of a hazy summer day. That’s not to say that such conditions would stall play but I’d be more judicious about what I’d record. Whether it is down to the advent of digital capture or not, it does feel like I have developed more of feeling of how a scene before me will come out in a photo. The reason for my suspecting the effect of technological progress is that I may spend longer looking at my photos now than was the case when I exclusively used film. The fact that I am in total control over the entire process in the digital world may have a bearing because making prints from negatives or transparencies involves a certain amount of interpretation on the part of the printer, even if we are not talking about fine art monochrome images. In time, I may get around to adding more new images, but my attention has gone forth to a spot of under the bonnet work on my slide show machinery followed by giving my Isle of Skye photo collection (still under way) the same sort of attention lavished on that for the Yorkshire Dales.

For a few years, I have not been devoting so much attention to the Yorkshire Dales, but that may be finding itself seeing some recompense. Last month saw me out in the midst of the gentle surroundings of lower Wharfedale while last weekend saw me out in some wilder countryside. A circuit from Ingleton saw me both thrilled by limestone pavements, even under duller skies, and immersed in spacious open country. That’s never to say that there was no one else about, yet we each could have our own corner for a little while and chilling out was well possible on the moors around Twisleton; there was none of the feelings of being in a cavalcade that entered my mind between Burnsall and Howgill in September. It was a little busier on the way up Ingleborough from Chapel-le-Dale but dropping off in the Ingleton direction wasn’t long losing any semblance of crowding though there was little sign of anywhere being overrun. Bunching together became a reality on the steep approach to Ingleborough, but that’s always the way so it’s never any real trouble so long as you don’t rush things and keep an awareness of whoever is about you; we all can share a bit of countryside anyway. The day provided the sort of experience that draws me back time and again and it helps that there is more to explore too. Getting a sunny day to make photos reminiscent of those by a certain Granville Harris would be a bonus.

Photographically, it was a day of digital and film capture. Perhaps perversely, the sun found breaks in the clouds at precisely the moment when my DSLR ran out of electrical juice; being ever ready with a charged battery might have been a help but I only can own up to my own fecklessness. Then, it was over to the world of film to capture the wondrous lighting as I tramped the final miles towards the end of my hike. The instantaneous nature of digital capture may have been missed, but a spot of patience is all that’s needed to see how well the results of my endeavours worked out for me and to use a lab that I know to do the business for me. If I had no back up camera, I would have been kicking myself, so this is no problem. In fact, the incident probably justifies my continuing to bring both a DSLR and an FSLR on walking trips, even if there is a weight penalty.

Like the film photos, the full account of Saturday’s walk should follow and I need to look at those digital images and charge up that camera. A spare battery might be a sensible purchase, but any excuse for a spot of film photography never can be bad. My recent exploits with old photos in Photoshop Elements using exposure correcting tools like levels, curves, hue/saturation tweaking and shadow/highlight adjustments have shown me that new life can be added to an old photo (hopefully) without overdoing things. Of course, there has to be some potential for decent results to be obtained and you always want to avoid some abomination in keeping with the punch drunk efforts using filters in the 1980’s. Having a good sense of what is natural and what isn’t has to help, but there’s a very fine line between having the right amount of colour saturation and contrast and ending up with a day-glow semi-fluorescent effort; I aim to stay on the right side of that line.

A look back at 2008 Part 3: Beyond Midsummer

Midsummer in 2008 might have been a time when I felt that the year had peaked and the encroachment of unsettled weather may have had something to do with that view. Certainly, the year will not be remembered for having a sunny summer and many were disappointed, even if it did have its better interludes. Personally, I reckon that it’s best to try and enjoy what is visited upon us at any time of year and seem to have come to the conclusion that the traditional summer holiday season is overrated. There may be more hours of daylight but, if the days get too hot, it may be worth sticking to the cooler parts of the day and that reduces the amount of time available for wandering through the countryside anyway, perhaps restricting the time available until it is not that much different from spring or autumn anyway.

Even with the feeling that the second half of a year feels like an anticlimax after the first, I continued to get out into attractive countryside. I found hot sunny weather in July, was extremely lucky with my visits to Scotland in August, had an easier September and October before taking advantage of numerous wonderful opportunities in November and December. There was much to behold so here are a few recollections of it all.

July

In walking terms, July was another fallow month with a sun scorched saunter along the Offa’s Dyke Path near Welshpool at the end of the month being the main trip of note. Otherwise, time limited by other activities ensure that most of my major outdoors activity was to be cycling rather than walking. The month’s mixture of weather contributed too but I was feeling that the best of the year had passed by this time anyway and began to wonder if the timing of the school holidays was more than a little nonsensical. I also got to mulling over island wandering as a possibility for my now habitual longer Scottish walking break. My few hours on Kerrera in May may have had something to do with this inspiration coming upon me and I felt the need for a longer break anyhow.

August

The main even in August was that island hopping trip to Skye and the Western Isles. Though anyone surveying the weather and the weather forecast on the eve of the trip might have questioned my sanity for even considering what I was about to undertake. In the event, I struck the jackpot: while other parts of the U.K. and Ireland were getting a soaking, I managed to find wonderful sunshine and avoid those downpours. That was thanks to the belt of rain getting stuck across the north of England and the south of Scotland. Harris was to prove the highlight of the week without Skye failing to satisfy or the peace of the Uists being forgettable. However, it does need to be said that South Uist felt a little like an anti-climax after Harris so it might be best to journey in the northbound direction on any future visit. A social visit to Edinburgh followed but I still got in a few hours among the Pentland Hills, an area that I surprisingly ignored when I lived up there in that city.

September & October

September and October proved to be pivotal months for a lot of reasons, the economic situation in the wider world being one of them. For me, it was a period lacking in longer walking excursions but shortening days meant that walks at lunchtimes started to take over from evening cycles. Another trip to Ireland in September allowed me to spend a few sunny hours around Gougane Barra. Even though I felt unable to add a fuller narrative for that trip, the photos found their way into the photo gallery very quickly. Alongside this, the realities of writing a longer trip away were made plain to me as producing reports for my Hebridean trip began to take eat up their share of time. It wasn’t just the writing that slowed progress since choosing and processing the photos to be included as part of the descriptions nearly were more rate limiting than the actual writing itself. That experience had been happening throughout the year but it really came to a head with the larger block of writing. Staying with the subject of lessons learned, I started to cast more of a critical eye on the focus of the blog and came to the conclusion that much of the musings on public transport really belonged elsewhere. In time, another blog was spawned for that but travel matters relevant to exploring wonderful countryside will continue to make their appearance here. In time, it may happen that old posts falling outside of this might get moved elsewhere as part of continued content reshaping but I’ll leave things as they are for now.

November

November saw me re-emerge into areas well populated by hills again. The first of two trips to Cumbria saw me embark on an out and back trek from Windermere’s train station to Yoke. I had gone north with a few ideas in mind and this proved to be just as well when public transport and the available daylight constrained my ambitions a little. Neither did anything to spoil my enjoyment of the day. A miscalculation on the following weekend had me walking from Ardlui to Butterbridge a day too early for good weather to do its magic on the landscape. in some respects, the hike echoed my February outing to the area in that showers got going to make things feel unpleasant as I dropped down towards the end of my walk. I may not have seen the countryside in its best light but plans for potential excursions came to mind and they may compensate for this at some suitable juncture in the future. Dullness of a drier variety was set to dominate my walk from Ambleside to the top of Red Screes and back the next weekend. Some sunshine managed to escape from its cloudy prison towards the end of the walk but the intense cold remains in mind, particularly since the turning on of Ambleside’s Christmas lights delayed my journey home.

December

December may be considered by meteorologists to be the start of winter but my walking was not about to go into hibernation, especially with the possibility of sampling some snow. So, the first Saturday of the month saw me return to the Howgill Fells after the briefest of visits a few years earlier. The snow that I met got me wondering about winter skills and such like but the experience was one not to be missed. The day after had me out exploring Macclesfield’s hills with an out and back hike from my own doorstep. I might have been trampling familiar ground but there were some new sides to be seen too. A trip to Ireland for Christmas and New didn’t stop my walking either, even if road walking took up the most of what I was doing. Nevertheless, I got to get off road to explore around Springfield Castle near Broadford in County Limerick and even got to sample a little piece of the Dingle peninsula around Camp and Castlegregory in Kerry. Sunshine enlivened both walks but that part of Kerry was frequented by a biting wind while we were there; nevertheless, it didn’t stop me wandering a little way along a track (used by a tractor to get winter feeding to livestock by appearance of things) through the dunes at Maherabeg (Machaire Beag in Irish) in the late evening sunshine, at least shadowing the Dingle Way if not actually following it. That brought a year packed full of walking trips and opportunities to a delightful close. 2009 awaits.

A spot of island hopping Part 2: crossing to Harris

Monday, August 11th:

Ferry travel and island hopping are often synonymous. During previous Scottish outings, I have been known to explore Mull, Iona and Arran with Caledonian Macbrayne (Calmac to one and all) getting me to and from the islands in question. An Easter excursion to Arran involved an overnight stay but Mull and Iona have only ever seen me on day trips. Kerrera has been the same with its little passenger ferry getting me there and away.

The main way onto Skye these days is by going over its well-known bridge, but there are ferry options for getting there too. One that I have used is that running between Armadale and Mallaig, and there is another going between Glenelg and Kylerhea. That is a small community-run affair but it is summer-only like the much larger Calmac ferry. Unlike others that I have frequented, Skye has seen me on multi-day trips a few times, although there have been shorter ones with me spending just a single night on the island too.

My Hebridean explorations last month had me spending just the one night on Skye with a few hours spent around Ben Tianavaig as well. I have shared that here already so I’ll move things along to that ferry ride to Harris. The sailing itself lasts an hour and forty minutes and the crossing of the Little Minch does take you sufficiently far away from land that they need registration cards for the crossing along with your ticket. That’s not to say that any sights on the crossing are devoid of land. Just stand on the right side of the boat and there’ll be plenty to see.

I made my way to the cafeteria at the start of the crossing so we were well out of Loch Snizort by the time that I returned to the deck. An Easter Monday return from Arran taught me that getting fed before things got too busy was sound practice. It also started to rain as we left Uig, so being under cover was no bad idea either and I had a dry few hours there before the ferry came.

Though we were out on more open water when I ventured outside again, Skye was far from being gone from view. In fact, the full length of the Trotternish was still visible even as it became an ever thinner line on the horizon. Some islands north of Skye came into view too. Visibility was very good with some sunshine about and the crossing remained a smooth one throughout.

Any lack of land was soon remedied as we passed into Loch an Tairbeart (Loch Tarbert West) with its myriad of islands. Scalpay was a major sight and, of course, there was Harris itself with its best hill country remaining steadfastly in shadow while other parts caught the sun. After all this wonder, Tarbert still seemed a pleasant spot even if it was far from huge. A visit to its tourist information centre resulted in my picking up a bus timetable for all of Harris and Lewis. Aird Asaig (Ardhasaig in English) was where I was staying the night, so a bus ride was in order, to save myself an hour’s walking with a full load on my back.

Once ensconced in my lodgings, I took to a spot of ambling. An Cliseam (or Clisham, Gaelic is the mainstay for the place names in these parts) and its client hills remained under cloud and some of the summits were shrouded too. I had no rain, which was a blessing given the portents from the weather forecasts that I had been seeing. My wanderings took me around Loch Bun Abhainn Eaddara and along the shores of Loch a’ Siar. The journeying was short but glimpsed steep slopes that were stony and craggy, reminders that I was among proper hills regardless of what their heights might be. These were hills of which I was to see more but I had already seen enough to retire for the night. By then, the weather had taken on a damper aspect, but the following day was when the real exploration was to commence.

A spot of island hopping Part 1: a quick visit to Skye

Sunday, August 10th:

Up to a few weeks ago, I hadn’t been to Skye for a few years, so a visit was long overdue, even if it turned out to be a short one while on a journey that took islands that I had until then not visited at all. There might have been showers floating about, but Skye didn’t disappoint whenever the sun made its way from behind the clouds. The day before couldn’t have been more wet in Macclesfield (the Sutton Sheepdog Trials could have done with better weather…) so anyone who knew what I was planning could have been forgiven for thinking that I was mad. However, things didn’t look too bad in Glasgow, and the sun lit up parts of the city as the coach on which I was travelling made its way to Fort William. Between the upper reaches of Loch Lomond and Loch Linnhe, though, the aspect shown by the weather was well wet. I still found Fort William wet underfoot but dry overhead during a short stop there to change coach before continuing to Skye. That drier theme was set to continue all the way to Kyle of Lochalsh, where Skye was displaying a damper appearance. Further north on the island, conditions were very different, with a good deal of sun on offer in Portree.

Once I had dropped off some of my things at where I was staying for the night, I decided to head for Ben Tianavaig for a spot of hiking. To get there, I had to brave the busy A87 before making my way onto the B883 that serves Braes, a place that is noted for a famous clash between crofters and police who had come to enforce the execution of eviction notices. The result of that battle was the enactment of legislation guaranteeing crofters’ rights that sounds not that dissimilar to the demands of the Irish Land League. Different histories sometimes exhibit certain common threads.

The Braes were five miles away from the A87, so that was never going to be my object for the day; more than ten miles of road walking is not my idea of fun, so a bicycle would offer a better way of getting there. As it happened, my initial target was Camustianavaig on the shores of Loch Tianavaig. There, I met some people who said that there were porpoises playing offshore, and I got to see what they were enjoying with my own eyes. I left them to savour the sights and soon found a rough path taking me out into open country to start on my way up the steep sides of Ben Tianavaig. I chose a route away from any really steep drops, particularly those looking a little bit too close to the sea. After braving the leg busting ascent and any showers that cam the way, I found myself on top of the hill with marvellous panoramic views to be enjoyed. The sights included Raasay, the Trotternish ridge to the north, the Red Hills and Cuillin to the south, along with Skye’s indented coastline. I had it all to myself for those moments before thoughts of getting back down again came to the fore.

The route down was to be different to the way up, and Scotland’s access laws were well-used as I negotiated the rough country between Ben Tianavaig and Penifiler. It wasn’t all downhill, since there was a small bit of uphill action before I got onto less testing ground. Conditions underfoot weren’t too wet considering the rain that was about, and the vegetation wasn’t too bothersome either. There was a tricky thicket of scrub that through which I forced my way across a stream, but heather, bracken and marsh grasses were the less challenging mainstay. I don’t recall seeing much wildlife and I don’t remember any interest from midges, so they can’t have been too bad.

Even with my return to tarmac, there was still the matter of rounding Loch Portree as the sky grew darker. If there was a bridge across the loch, then I wouldn’t have needed to take as long to return to my lodgings for the night. That darkness soon turned to dampness, and I needed waterproofs again by the time that I reached the A87 again. The rain was to persist for a few hours, but I was after a good walk with its moments of sun and so had no complaints.

An easier day followed, and I couldn’t really get up to doing much, with a 14:00 ferry to Harris to be caught. I spent some time mooching around Portree and trying not to buy so much as to be overloading myself with it; the weight on my back was already enough for me. I left Portree at 11:35 on the bus to Uig, where conditions were drier with no showers happening on me while I waited there. That may have left me with some hours to spare, but buying a ticket took up some of that time, and the sun came out while I was waiting. That ferry came soon enough, but that’s a story for the next post in the series.