Category: Wales
Remnants
11th April 2010 This weekend, I fitted in an overnight stay in Capel Curig and a strenuous walk over the top of Moel Siabod while en route from Dolwyddelan. Following that ardour, anything done today needed to be less energetic, though a hike over boggy ground and through woodland conveyed me to Betws-y-Coed from where I travelled home again.
Around the same time last year, I was in the same area and the one difference that stays in my mind is that there remained streaks of snow after the winter that we got. Moel Siabod had them and so had Snowdon, the Glyderau and the Carneddau too. It is small wonder that I had brought the Microspikes with me, though I largely avoided any difficulty in the event. Saying that, I did manage to inadvertently scoop up some snow in my right boot (I left off the gaiters, and the trousers are only fit for the washing machine now...) with a single ill-taken step. A spot of boot removal and flicking off any invaders from my sock was all that was needed for redress.
Last Sunday's outing was very different, but the sight of flecks, patches and streaks laying on much lower hills was held in common. Normally, you wouldn't see snowy remnants at this time of year while journeying along the A537 between Macclesfield and Buxton, yet I did this year. In fact, anytime that eyes gazed in the direction of the upper reaches of Edale, there were telltale white patches there too. If my imagination wasn't fooling me, I even think that I might have spotted a white speck on Lose Hill while on the train home. Not being accustomed to these sights, I tend to notice them, but a more seasoned observer mightn't pay that much heed.
This past weekend has distracted me from promised illustrated scribblings and, if the fine weather stays with us, I may be waylaid be the lure of well lit hill country next weekend too. Of course, we have what weather actually is coming our way first, but a look on Metcheck reveals signs to be promising. Meanwhile, I'd better be making time for some matters outstanding then. These hints of summer are a big change from what we were having...
Some competition for attention
30th March 2010 Last weekend should have seen me heading off somewhere for a day trip but nothing of the sort happened. Various excuses could be summoned and fatigue following a busy working week certainly would be among them. Then, there's the one that you cannot be away every weekend and that's true too. Still, it would have been nice to have made better use of the fine weather that visited us on Saturday and Sunday, especially with the weather for the forthcoming Easter weekend looking as if it will be as mixed as it is at the moment.
In the middle of all of this, there are a variety of interests competing for my attention. Sunday was taken up with a spot of messing about on a computer. In part, the cause was the resurgence of another interest of mine: cycling. With the bike's back tyre still needing attention to rid it of a (very) slow puncture, a damper should have been put on this but, no, it is threatening to send my brain off into places that are not compatible with adding contributions to what essentially is a hillwalking blog. It was that state of affairs that had me sent off exploring another piece of blogging software called Serendipity (yes, there's nothing wrong with WordPress but there's never any harm in having a look at the competition from time to time) in the name of crafting a cycling blog to complement this thing. While Serendipity itself works well, a few rays of reality fell on the idea and I am minded to consign it to the back burner for now. Saying that, a quick look on Google demonstrated that there might be a place for a cycling blog that revels in the countryside that gets explored. Of course, that also is what I do here so there may be room for including news of the occasional bicycle foray so long as it doesn't the focus of what you find on here.
With a website idea being left to come to maturity in its own good time, my mind again turns to the Easter weekend and any opportunities for restorative escapades. The weather has turned cold gain with blizzards visiting parts of Scotland and whiteness coating parts of Ireland. Here in Cheshire, it is cold rain that we have but that doesn't mean that I am ruling out the chances of an escapade between the showers that seem to be in the current forecast. It's just that I'll need to see how things look later in the weekend before making any plans. That's not to say that there aren't some ideas already in my head such as coastal hikes in Northumberland or Pembrokeshire, a short hop to Arran or, closer to home, a wander along the Peak District moors between Baslow and Hathersage. For any of those to happen, it's a matter of having at least some of the kind of weather that those such places visual justice. It will be a case of waiting, this time around.
Seeing the heart of Cheshire and beyond by bike?
24th February 2010 Apparently, my late Uncle Jim had a fascination for exploring the byways of his local stomping ground and I am left wondering if my own inclinations come from the same gene pool. For instance, an unexpectedly Sunday morning from more than a week ago was the cause of dragging me out on my bike for a local run when the enticement failed to take me further afield. At the time, the main attraction was the prospect of having another go at making a photo of Little Moreton Hall. After a bright start, the day did progressively cloud over but that didn't make my visit to the old pile an unprofitable venture. As it happened, I came away satisfied and it didn't cost me a penny either because the National Trust hadn't opened up the place to the visiting public. That reminds me of Irish forest parks in the low season when it is possible to get in without paying. In the case of Little Moreton Hall, I may have had to stay on the outside of its walls and its gardens but I was temporarily ensconced on its front lawn all the same.
On the way there, I took diversions to stop off at Gawsworth and Astbury. Photographic endeavours of either weren't to better previous efforts but there were compensations too. Quite a lot of the fish pool in front of Gawsworth's Old Hall was frozen, confining squabbling ducks to the end near the church and they amused me for a few minutes before I carried on down the A536. It looks as if Astbury will be providing me with another reason for going past Congleton on the A34 but it may facilitate another outing that takes me somewhere new too.
The journey that I took back from Little Moreton Hall was the main cause of my travelling around 37 miles in total. Apart from those aforementioned deviations, the outward journey followed the A536/A34 as if to make a bee line for the antiquity. Once there, I was lured towards Holmes Chapel with quieter lanes conveying me towards Rode Heath and the A50 taking me the rest of the way. The wideness of the road ensured that any traffic wasn't in conflict with me nor I with it, a useful state of affairs when part of me began to complain about the time spent on the saddle; small conurbations like Arclid and Brereton Green were useful punctuations that made the distance feel shorter as I completed bypassed Sandbach, spot not without its own attractions. It was after Holmes Chapel that my legs began to fatigue so I left a busy A535 at Twemlow Green to pick my way along much quieter lanes around by Goostrey and Over Peover until I reached Chelford. After all, busy twisty undulating roads and tiring cyclists never make a good match. A stop in Chelford allowed for some rest and a spot of refreshment too before I followed the A537 back to Macclesfield for a longer recuperation, a direct end to a good day's cycling.
The whole jaunt has thrown other ideas into sharp focus, especially those pertaining to exploring the middle of Cheshire by bicycle. Even the thought of a cycle through to Chester has come to me though I'd be catching a train back if I was to do something like that; the prospect of doing the most of a hundred miles in a single day sounds excessive. Nevertheless, there are places around the likes of Northwich and Delamere that I wouldn't mind savouring from a saddle rather than a train like what happened one Sunday last November. With that in mind, I acquired a copy of Cycling in the UK from SUSTRANS. As a sample of what the U.K. has to offer, it's good appetiser to have on a coffee table but I fancy having something more relevant to Cheshire. Nevertheless, it has caused me to ponder escapades like cycling from Barmouth to Porthmadog, all in Wales and all within sight of hills too. What really seals the deal for this one is that it would mean shadowing a railway line, a more than acceptable fallback if something went awry with the bike. While on the thread of dafter schemes, acquiring a Brompton folding bicycle is another that has entered an untethered head. After all, who knows what that might cause? Even with all these mental escapades, I am not planning to stop walking though hill country at all (I know that it is tales of those exploits that draw so many of you here) though I do need to admit some excitement at the prospect of exploring more places by bike too. Is this what could make 2010 different from other years?
A mixture of spring warmth and cloudless summits
14th February 2010 It's amazing where a moment of curiosity might take you. The weekend before saw me checking out the travel possibilities for Keswick while pondering the reality of a day outing to Dyffryn Ardudwy was what was to follow it. The trouble with the latter is that the last train back is often at around 16:30 and that constrains the amount of time available for exploring the nearby hills. However, an 18:30 return journey made things a little more interesting, even if it added a late finish to an early start. That extra time available made reaching the top of Diffwys a possibility.
It wouldn't have been the first time that I ever thought of reaching Diffwys. Various forays around Dolgellau may have sown the seeds when nearby northern hills looked better lit than the clag attractor that is Cadair Idris. A Spring Bank Holiday weekend stay in the area was when the prospect really came to mind an out and back walk from Barmouth wasn't going to happen in the time that was available to me on a gloriously sunny Sunday. That reality may have been the cause of extending my explorations to the north with some recce around Harlech on a sunny December day when low cloud hogged the Rhinogau. Next up was a wet weather walk from Tal-y-bont to Dyffryn Ardudwy via Pont-Scethin at the end of the following June. That wasn't what I intended but I left the train a (request) stop too early and needed to make the best of the wilder surroundings that were new to me. Last February saw me drop in with notions of reaching the summit of Moelfre, but low cloud discouraged me and a circular hike around the hill was what ensued.
In many ways, the route for last weekend's stroll echoed that of a year before. Starting from the (right) train station, I headed for the nearby burial chambers and passed them on a right of way that took me onto Fford Gors. Road walking conveyed me towards and past Cors y Geddl Hall to reach a gravel track that has seen my footfall a few times already. Moelfre loomed ahead of me and there were ample views along the coast of the hills to the north. In fact, I'd venture that Snowdon itself could be seen, stained with streaks of winter whiteness. More hilly humps lay to the west of it and took the eye out towards the Llyn Peninsula.
While I didn't rush along, I didn't dawdle either as I walked closer to the foot of Moelfre until I picked up the boggy track down to Pont-Scethin. The bridge itself is a well-maintained specimen but it looks a little out of place with the rutted tracks that feed it. Having passed the bridge, I checked my map and two mountain bikers passed me. Every time I saw them ahead of me, they seemed to be walking more than cycling, but the ascent was steep so it was understandable. I, too, made my way up the steepest incline of my day with views of Y Llethr, Moelfre, Rhinog Fawr and more giving me excuses for rest breaks on the ascent. After all, with no one following me, it was not as if I was holding up anyone else.
When the gradients levelled off, I found the wall that I was to shadow on the way to Diffwys. Time consciousness was creeping into the fray yet again but the out and back walk to the top of Diffwys didn't look to be too far away. Of course, that didn't mean that it was a quick hop there and boggy conditions underfoot along with undulations such as an unnamed 642-metre-high top meant that patience was of the essence. However, there were views over towards a dark-looking Cadair Idris and many other hills such as the Arans to savour and the shelf containing Llyn Dulyn was coming into sight too. 360º panoramic vistas were going to be my lot and I was able to pick out the Mawddach estuary too.
Some residual streaks of snow lay on the ground as I carried on higher but the only time that the white stuff intruded on my progress was when I made for the stile that took me across the wall to Diffwys' trig point. In truth, I reached it a little later than I would have liked, but the knowledge that I'd be retracing steps kept my head level and I took a short break and enjoyed the surrounding scenery. Diffwys may not be the highest of hills but it is well-placed and you can see for miles around it on a clear day, an occasional happenstance if my experiences are typical.
Going to the top of any hill is only half the battle because you have to get back down again and that's when things can go awry. Having a train to catch and running later than was ideal wasn't the most compatible of situations then but I didn't suffer any misfortune on its account. In fact, good progress was the essence of the return journey to Dyffryn Ardudwy's train station. Even so, it amazed me how long it took to get down by Llawlech and leave the sight of Llyn Erddyn behind me. With that out of the way, I managed to get from Pont-Scethin to the train station with ten minutes to spare, a satisfactory outcome. In the latter stages, a head torch was pressed into service until I was under street lights and was another of the contingencies that allowed me to make as much use of the day as I did. Even at 18:30, there was some colour in the sky but it was far from enough to ward off the darkness that encroached at the end of what had been a glorious day's walking.
Travel Arrangements:
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Dyffryn Ardudwy with a change in Wolverhampton.
A foretaste of spring followed by a reminder of winter
8th February 2010 On Saturday, I was walking towards the top of a Welsh hill dressed in a manner more appropriate to a day in April. Since then, it has not been possible to put away the down jackets just yet and that is set to stay for the course of the week by the appearance of things. It was if I got a sneak preview of spring before it became established and it added to the pleasure of reaching the top of Diffwys after having it in mind for a few years. Looking at the two proper hill country outings that I have enjoyed so far this year, a pattern of picking a hill and heading towards its top seems to be falling into place.
In that vein, the idea of mounting nearby Y Llethr has entered my head and I suppose that there is something to the practice of using hills as fulcrums about which to lever myself out into those places that allow time and space for recharging of the spirit. Could this be a defining feature of 2010? That isn't a question that I can answer yet but it might put a stop to all sorts of floundering and give sense of purpose to my endeavours. Saying that, I am not about to engage in soul-less hill bagging because that isn't why I gravitate towards hills. After all, it's experiences like the eerie silence that I met on the summit of Diffwys and the sight of sunlight dancing on the surrounding hillsides that do it for me. They may be all that endures when a favoured summit remains out of bounds on the day.
Once a certain life event is out of the way, I must get to saying more about last Saturday's Welsh wander and the previous weekend's exertions in Cumbria too. On both occasions, I came away with pleasing photos so time needs to be set aside to pick the best to share on here with you. It's not the easiest of tasks but good fortune can be met only with gratitude and never with grumbling. That you don't always meet the hills in the best of conditions only adds to the enjoyment when you do.
