Category: Wales
Some soggy yet varied Welsh wandering
17th February 2011 Unusually for me, this year's hill wanderings got an early start with a day out in Wales on the second Saturday of the year. That outing took me to Roman Bridge in the Lledr Valley from where I hiked to Pen y Pass using a route of my own devising, and it was hard to say that it wasn't varied either. First, there was a little variety in the weather, but the mix of terrain included soggy forest floors and waterlogged moorland. Even sheep pasture was to feel anything but dry. Because the day itself wasn't the warmest, it was best to be shod in waterproof boots and not to fall in the wet either.
The journey from Macclesfield allowed a break at Llandudno Junction, to make whatever use that I could of the directional light that was falling upon Conwy Castle and its surroundings. In marked contrast, it was under cloudy skies that I set off from Roman Bridge train station. As overcast as things were, snow-topped hills still drew the eye. There even was a feeling of dampness in the air as I plied first the single track road and then a public footpath towards Blaenau Dolwyddelan before starting on the right of way that was set to take me into what was to feel like an unloved commercial forestry; the experience made it easy to see why there was so much opposition to the U.K. government's now dropped plans for selling off land managed by the Forestry Commission. Navigational uncertainties were put behind me and breaks began to appear in the cloud too before a crossing of Ceunant y Garnedd was needed. The signs of untended landscape were apparent in the lack of a bridge and the presence of still fallen trees that allowed me to get over what was a fast flowing watercourse. Something tells me that this might be fordable in drier spells of weather, but that was not how I was to find it at the start of 2011.
Initially, the public footpath through the forestry didn't seem too unkind, but more fallen trees and stray growing saplings were to make my passage tricky, with stream crossings and some well-made sections of path obstructed by what felt like extraneous upstarts. Their presence reminded me of a trot along the Rob Roy Way from Aberfoyle to Callander a few years back when I spied a gentleman out with a chainsaw removing the same class of greenery from the sides of a vehicle track through a forest plantation overlooking Loch Venachar. My experiences in the Welsh counterpart around Garnedd Pen y Bont were planting ideas of bringing untoward implements like billhooks and chainsaws along to clear my way in the future. Of course, those outlandish notions were given short shrift, though they may in part explain the recent furore about the U.K. government's plans for Forestry Commission land. While I accept the imperfections of that institution, they have been known to do some good work and I have encountered the fruits of that around Arrochar and Glenfinnan in Scotland.
Whatever about the battles fought with vegetation, the sun did start to peep through those growing breaks in the clouds to light up what was around me and allow some views of what lay behind me. With time, I was shortening the distance to the edge of the forestry with conditions underfoot getting ever more mushy and with some lying snow, where it wasn't so waterlogged too. The general state of the ground was causing me to keep as close to the roots of trees too, even if that had me battling with headstrong branches. Any fallen branches that could convey me over the unsound stuff were gratefully used too. However, it was a foolhardy step onto a slender, slippery branch that was the cause of sending me out on my side in the muddy wet. Did I mention earlier that this wasn't the best of days for such misadventures? Even so, there was nothing broken and I soon dried without any ill effects, though clothes needed washing when I got home!
My braving that tree colony was well rewarded when I exited it. Clouds had become really well broken by then and pleasing vistas faced me wherever I happened to gaze, so long as a cloud didn't go sneaking in front of the sun. Those featuring Carnedd Moel Siabod probably were among the more photographically interesting that I've ever seen; the side-on views that I have been known to record seem a little less fascinating these days. Other hills that now are harder to identify caught the sun, and a return is needed for the sake of working out exactly which is which. Looking at the photos that I made now shows little if any sign of the water that lay on the ground without making it as difficult to negotiate as in that forest through which I had passed.
It's remarkable how the hills before need not always be what you think they are. After comparing photos to pick out Yr Aran to the south-west of Llyn Gwynant and Y Lliwedd, one of the flanks of the Snowdon horseshoe, I get the sense that getting out a compass while out in the empty quiet places for the sake of working out which hill is which should be something to do more often while out in complex countryside. Once upon a time, it was a great help in working out my surroundings during a hike along the West Highland Way between Kingshouse Hotel and Kinlochleven. The day in question may not have granted me the photo opportunities for which I'd been hoping, but things now make a lot more sense afterwards.
As I went down to the floor of the Glaslyn valley, I was to see more of those Welsh hills that gave me cause for a spot of mental action. The positioning of the sun and clouds were to play a part in denying me the chance of acquiring nice photos, but those that I did, came in very useful afterwards. Losing height all the while, the surroundings changed from open moorland to walled pasture to woodland. The latter proved to be more natural and more friendly to the passing walker than my previous brush with woodland on the day and the gradients down which I was descending. There were views down the valley towards Beddgelert and up it towards the Snowdon hills and the Glyderau upon which to gaze during any well-earned break.
Because more level ground was reached, there was the matter of crossing the A498 and going down yet another steep incline. Temptingly, a Snowdon Sherpa bus service passed, but I decided not to halt it at short notice, probably a sensible decision. More tarmac walking was in order along a quiet single - track road before I crossed well soggy fields to reach the other side of the valley. Golden late January afternoon sunshine blessed my surroundings, so I was happy to have continued my walk in place of what could have been a premature finish. The track along which I was journeying was a quality affair leading from a campsite, and it was tempting to think that it would have been great if it remained that way all the way to Pen y Pass.
That proved to be wishful thinking as things grew rougher on the approach to what looked for all the world like a church refurbished as a dwelling place. In fact, it was a far more industrial installation in the form of a waterworks facility if I recall correctly. With an awareness of fading light, I kept going, though I was to follow the line of the right of way more loosely than I might have intended. Later on, that manifested itself in my taking a route to Pen y Pass of my own making with my being deceived by a line of electricity poles into following Nant Cynnyd while battling the sort of tussocky grass that was reminding me of a walk from Ardlui to Butterbridge on a day when the advertised sunshine failed to materialise. However, this was access land, so I was free to plot my own with any loss of height and walking became easier as I gained height too. It didn't take too long to reach the well-travelled path that I had been seeking, with the A4086 lying above me to my right. Light was failing, so a head torch was pressed into service so that I reached the Snowdon Sherpa bus down to Llanberis in time. It may have involved one last push of faltering legs, but there was no bad end to what in many ways had been a superb outing. In fact, I am pondering future visits to these parts and a reprise of the trot from Roman Bridge to Pen y Pass or Beddgelert cannot be ruled out of contention. Next time, though, that commercial woodland might be best avoided.
Travel Arrangements:
Train from Macclesfield to Roman Bridge. Snowdon Sherpa from Pen y Pass to Llanberis, Padarn Bus service from Llanberis to Bangor, train from Bangor to Macclesfield.
A year in two halves
2nd February 2011 There was one event in my life over the last year that very firmly punctuated the year in outdoors terms: a change of job. Whether it was the cause of putting my hill-going off track or not, there clearly were less outings in the second half of the year and those that were enjoyed weren't so extensive. The strange thing though is that a Christmas spent with the folks in Ireland seems to have recharged things for me. After all, there already has been a proper day out among the waterlogged hill country around Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) in Wales very early in this year with a mad dash up to Fort William and Glenfinnan together with a crossing to Ireland to savour the delights of Howth near Dublin following it. In previous years, it often has fallen to the last weekend of January before I managed to get out at all. There are other schemes in mind but more armchair exploring could be needed before anything comes of them.
The first few months of last year had me standing on hilltops more often than is usual for me and January and February fitted into this pattern with walks over Place Fell in Cumbria and Diffwys near Dyffryn Ardudwy, respectively. The weather was very amenable in both cases with a touch of spring being felt on the second excursion to contrast with the sights reminding onlookers of winter during the previous one. The other major outing in February was a cycle that took in Gawsworth, Astbury, Little Moreton Hall, Holmes Chapel, Goostrey, Over Peover and Chelford. Though I was tired after that jaunt, it sowed the seeds for a cycle to Chester later in the year.
March saw me move things up a gear again by heading to Scotland to see some Scottish snow-covered hillsides around Glen More among the Cairngorms. Braving some showers was the price that I had to pay for this but the rewards from the short sampling session more than compensated. In fact, it may have set the scene for a busy April that featured an Easter Sunday trot from Baslow to Bamford while shadowing the River Derwent. That wasn't as low level as it might sound but I headed to greater heights in the form of Carnedd Moel Siabod and Y Llethr in Wales too. Revisiting the trip reports for these makes me realise that I was more active than I now remember myself to be.
My recollections of May are stronger and it started with a Mayday bank holiday weekend visit to the Isle of Man where I savoured some of the ups and downs of the coastal path, Raad ny Foillan. That was a good introduction to Manx walking and I hope to follow up the outing some time. A trot from Selkirk to Melrose had it share of ascent and descent too as it brought back to a part of the world where I hadn't been for a few years. Later, I discovered that the Kerry mountains around Killarney can get some hot sunny weather. In fact, it could have been the most sun that I have had on a visit to the alluring area.
As it happened, May ended with the commencement of the distraction that was to occupy my mind for much of the next few months: a change of job. It was amazing to see how this really punctuated my outdoors year. The weather remained balmy as I pondered what I was doing with visits to the National Trust managed woods around Alderley Edge for some unwinding on lengthening evenings. That spell of good weather came to an end later in June but not before I snatched the chance to head north to the Isle of Arran and Kintyre for what became my only real longer summer break in Scotland. That didn't prove to be the end of my feeling hot sunshine for the year because a business trip took me to Sweden where long hot evenings allowed me to savour the delights both of Sodertalje and Stockholm.
From July on, the rest of the year gained a much quieter feel when it came to enjoying the outdoors. Nevertheless, I did manage to base myself in Aberdeen for the English August Bank Holiday weekend. Having not been there after a first visit more than a decade before, it was time to revisit places encountered before and exploring those that were new to me. The latter point brings to a first visit to Braemar that took me up to the top Morrone/Morvern with heavy showers making rainbows in the sunshine before things dried up later on an otherwise chilly day. The outing had a real end of year feel with that coolness though Edinburgh felt warm in the sun when I sneaked in a trot about its heart between trains. Maybe I should have based myself there instead, like I did for the same weekend in 2009.
For some reason, the rest of the year felt as if the stuffing had been knocked out of it for me and my outings appeared to reflect that. Nevertheless, I did get to cycling all of the way from Macclesfield to Chester, a brainwave that came to me earlier in the year. It also proved that Cheshire is far from flat though I knew that anyway. Ironically, my end of British Summer Time hike along the High Peak Trail and the Tissington Trail from Pomeroy to Ashbourne on a day when cloud overcame sun as I went further south. Following old railway alignments meant that ups and downs were kept to a minimum on that October afternoon but the distance covered was felt for a while afterwards, ironically for longer than the effects of my exertions in crossing Cheshire if my memory is not failing me again.
Breaking away for a hill country outing seemed to have become difficult for me but November saw me on top of Caer Caradoc in Shropshire due the perceived accessibility of the hill. Shrewsbury remains another idea for urban pottering as does Oswestry so it wasn't about standing atop a hill. In fact, the very next issue of Country Walking featured low hills with good views and put into my head the idea of collating a list of a few of these for times when inspiration was hard to locate.
December's snows may have been disruptive and I was to feel the effects of that when I popped over to Ireland for the Christmas but they were restorative when it came to getting me out of doors again. For one thing, there was a quick visit to the hills near Glossop that was more about broadening my experience of winter condition than covering much in the way of distance. Then, there was wandering around local haunts in Wilmslow (Lindow Common became a 2010 discovery for me), Macclesfield, Prestbury and West Limerick. Surroundings may have looked totally different and very pretty on these short strolls but they very much helped me in the restoration of my hill wandering mojo. Now, I need to ensure that it doesn't leave me again. After all, 2011 has started well and I really do need to set down some more trip reports as well as ensuring that my working life doesn't overwhelm everything else on me again.
A “They’re On You!” Moment
15th January 2011 With the deluges that have fallen over Wales, Cumbria, the North Pennines and Scotland, today wouldn't have made for a pleasurable day's walking. Last weekend, though, things were very different, and I took myself to Wales for a hike from Roman Bridge to Pen y Pass. The ground was waterlogged in many places then, so it leaves nothing to the imagination to realise how easy it would be for rivers to rise with heavy rain falling on the hills, like it has been doing today. Thoughts of visiting the castles at Beaumaris and Caernarfon may be entering my head, but I reckon that I'll leave things to settle a little before any other Welsh outing after what came the way. Macclesfield may not have fared too badly, yet you only have to hear of railway line closures to realise how hard a time other places are having.
Regarding last weekend's hike, my usual practice of saying more in a little while applies here too, but one happenstance really stands out in my memory, so I'll recall it here. Whether it was due to my being tired at the end of the walk or my being distracted by the need to catch a bus, I managed to stuff my head torch into my trousers pocket only to let it fall from my brain that I'd done so; daylight was failing while I took a little longer than I'd intended, so the extra lighting was a big help. The item itself is a Petzl LED affair, but it did nothing to make its presence known to me when I went looking for it again until it finally dawned on me where it might have gone. It's a reminder both of how smaller some things are getting because my older Petzl would be nowhere near as compact with its need for rather old-fashioned oblong 3LR12 batteries to provide its power. Next time, I think that I'll make a conscious note of where the newer lamp is being put to curtail any subsequent head scratching.
Matters of terminology
18th December 2010 Yesterday evening and overnight, a white blanket arrived in and around Macclesfield. A company Christmas night out meant that I was out in Manchester to see the white stuff blanketing there and Stockport too. Again, the south of England seems to have been affected too, with Twitter awash with transport companies telling what services are running and where. However, it seems that hardly anywhere has escaped, with Wales and Scotland seeing some too.
There was a time when this sort of weather was enough to have me outdoors pottering over the white coverings, but it doesn't seem to hold the same appeal for me these days. Was it last winter's snows that broke the spell? Before that, snow was a short-lived visitor that never satisfied my curiosity and was enough to lure me outside, even to pace over local paths. Now, it appears that there is a feeling of extra effort required to get about instead, not that I don't have the ability of the kit to be able to get where I want to go.
All of this has me wondering if the same sort of becalming has affected my hill-going. It's easy to point out causes such as changing job, having busy working weeks, not getting alluring weather or being tired at weekends, but there may be another cause: have I more than sated my hill country appetite? With that in mind, it might be an idea to see if there are ways around this if it indeed is the cause.
Popping up accessible little hills might be one of them, and my visit to Caer Caradoc last month was very much of this ilk; the fact that it wasn't crowded either helped for enjoyment of the walk. Ironically, this month's issue of Country Walking has a feature on walking little hills and Hope Bowdler, not at all far from Caer Caradoc or Church Stretton, gains a mention in there as does Ysgyryd Fawr near Abergavenny. Maybe, creating a collection of little hills on my proverbial ideas shelf for easy planning could help to overcome any present torpor. This is far from list ticking because I like to go for walks to enjoy the surrounding countryside and not to say that I have "done" all the tops on a certain list or other.
The word "little" cropped again in my reading, this time in an issue of TGO that I was perusing on the way down to Oxford for a business trip. What I spied on those pages was a review of Cicerone's Scotland's Best Small Mountains. Since then, I have acquired a copy of the said guide as an eBook and discovered that smallness is in the eye of the beholder. With Country Walking, the sorts of heights are in the 300-500 metre category, but many of the "small mountains" are in the 700-900 metre range. There are other contrasts too, with some of the hills featured in the Cicerone book being out in pretty wild countryside, a counterpoint to the more genteel surroundings of those in the magazine. The guide starts in the north-west highlands of Scotland and works its way south and throws up a number of options worthy of exploring, some of which I have actually walked. Here, Ben Vrackie and Morrone come to mind, but there are one or two others if my memory serves me correctly.
It might that both the magazine and the book are highlighting something of which I have grown short: ideas. There also is the need for time to ponder and plan such things, particularly for those longer excursions. Then, I might be able to get things going again in 2011, but my ambitions are sure to be modest. After all, I have been developing a certain dislike for lofty terms like summits and peaks and now find referring to such things as tops to be much more amenable. Whatever I call them, there will be no obsession with these because it will be the walking, exploring and savouring that will matter above all else.
Catching some sun in Munster
28th May 2010 Last weekend, I crossed the Irish Sea for a more social visit to the south-west of the island where my parents live. While there was a spot of lawn-mowing, hedge-cutting and other bits and bobs to be done, there were chances for limited immersion in hill country too. Friday saw us heading to Gougane Barra in West Cork. The sun was playing hard to get until later in the day, but that didn't spoil any enjoyment derived from poking around Coillte's forest park in the Valley Desmond. There remains one trail that I would mind doing but it's best never to exhaust the possibilities of anywhere. In any case, having had good weather for photography on a previous visit meant that it didn't matter on this occasion.
If I had been dissatisfied, Saturday was going to rub it in with its cloudless skies and strong hot sunshine but I wasn't to be bothered. The sun did change my colour as I attended to lawn edging and other tasks but it was nothing that a rub of after-sun soother couldn't sort. It turned out that Sunday was going to offer more of the same, so hat-wearing and sunscreen were my defences against the attentions of strong sunshine. Letting down my guard wasn't an option.
Though many were heading for the coast, we struck on for Killarney. With the heat that was to be felt, it wouldn't have been the wisest to embark on a long hike without acclimatisation but it was not going to be that sort of day. In fact, the time was taken up with driving from spot to spot and strolling around them too. The locations included Looscaunagh (where the old disused pub is now for sale; who's going to buy a derelict building in the middle of nowhere in these times?), Moll's Gap, a stop to the west of Ladies' View, a lunch stop by the Upper Lake and Muckross House and Gardens. Though coach parties were being conveyed, Moll's Gap didn't feel overrun and it was only as we came downhill again that more and more other folk were being encountered.
Though there was a suggestion of haze, no cloud occupied the sky. Not was that a complete change from the last time that I was around there, but giving the sun unobstructed access to the countryside had a dramatic visual effect. In fact, I really have to think back in time to pick out a visit to Iveragh that was blessed with such good weather. The last one must have been on a Sunday in September not long after the turn of the century, when we were celebrating a family occasion with a ride out from Ross Castle around Lough Leane on the Waterbus. Before that, my memory is taken to 1995 by photos that I took that long ago. A few years before that, there was a drive down the rough track into the Black Valley and on to through the Gap of Dunloe. Maybe I need to visit more often to even up the odds of getting optimum weather.
With my luck with the weather around Killarney, it might be that 2010's visit will stick in the memory for being a photographic sweet shop. Only the chance of having an earlier start or a later finish would have made it even better. As it was, I had to contend with high sun and the risk of lens flare but I came away with something better than anything that I got before regardless. The viewpoints were by now familiar to me so I had ideas as to what to do with them and there was no fumbling in the ever strengthening sun. That's not to say that I wasn't open to anything that came my way and I now have quite a few photos to organise.
Apart from a longer out and back walk down the spit of land that separated Muckross Lake from Lough Leane. It was all short strolls for me, but that was no bad thing with temperatures hitting up to 25º C. That's not to say that some weren't embarking on longer journeys with a charity cycle in progress and a good of folk out on (hired?) bikes. Some of the latter were later found with their feet in the cooler waters of Muckross Lake, and who'd blame them? Others were loafing around in front of Muckross House as I caught it catching the sun for the first-ever time.
As good as the day was, I left with ideas for the future, with the main one being the prospect of a walk all around Muckross Lake. That would need more time than I had and figuring out something to occupy less patient souls while that is in train will be a must; I ended up most of half an hour late on returning from my walk and it sounded as if every minute was an eternity for someone, not good but I was at peace and I didn't let it get to me. An ice cream stop in Barraduff put that behind us and I got to capture a view of the Paps between the more urban paraphernalia too.
The day after couldn't have been more different with its foggy greyness, but things got ever brighter as I continued north to Dublin as I commenced my eastward return. It had taken over well by the time that my flight took off into the air. On the way over Wales, I spied the hills of Snowdonia and made out gashes like the Ogwen Valley and the Llanberis Pass. They were helping me to draw distinctions between the Carneddau, the Glyderau and Snowdon itself. In the midst of all this, I even tried looking for Moel Siabod but without enough certainty whether I had picked it out from the surrounding bumps though the Conwy Valley was unmistakable. Apart from recollections of Welsh hill outings, all this was reminding me that I am in the middle of giving the Snowdonia photo album in the photo gallery a makeover. That's not finished yet and new photos of Kerry already are in mind as is doing something with the uncertainties of the bank holiday weekend that is upon us. All this is the sort of activity that has to take second place to the necessary tasks of everyday life but it never stops in its own way either.
Those Irish strolls may have been short but I was left feeling so at ease that I ended up thinking that I don't go over there often enough. That's an old problem but resolving it could be interesting if perusals of recent issues of Walking World Ireland are to have any effect.
