Outdoor Discoveries

Reassembled

After last weekend’s bout of madness on the web hosting side of things, this place is more or less back together again. Along the way, there may have been a lot of poking around backups to get things sorted but there are also were reminders of places where I haven’t been for a while as various entries saw reinstatement. In some cases, I ended up asking myself if it really was that long ago when I last was in some areas. The Brecon Beacons is one such hill wandering destination that hasn’t been savoured for quite a while and Pembrokeshire and Perthshire fall into the same category as does Galloway. Maybe I should poke around here more often whenever I run out of ideas though the likes of TGO should keep replenishing them, especially as I am catching up with a few issues of the magazine at the moment.

These inadvertent reminders have had me recalling how things were when I first started out blogging and how far things have moved since then; those early postings were more pithy and there may a point in returning to a little bit of that, especially if it means that you hear from me more often. There was a lot of talk about motivation and hibernation even in those days and those haven’t gone away though interruptions by work and family life make their intrusions known too. In one respect, seeing what I have already written should stop me repeating myself too often but being confronted by unfinished business is another counterpoint to those occasions when it is too easy to say that I have seen enough of hill country. After you, there always are new sights to see even if it is different light falling on a familiar location.

Matters of terminology

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 out doors 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? Prior to that, snow was a short-lived visitor that never satisfied my curiosity and was enough to lure me out of doors, even to pace over local paths. Now, it seems 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 hillgoing. 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 months 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 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.

2009: a year of reconnaissance and rediscovery

Before Christmas 2009, I tried making a start on this round-up but the attempt came to a full stop. One cause was a memory block and a certain loss of chronology in the trip report postings. Along with this, end of year fatigue and lack of inspiration had their parts to play too. The latter came home to roost when I failed to capture the year in a nutshell. It's a chicken and egg sort of problem: you have to get writing to crack what it is that lies at the heart of your planned jottings but you also need a theme in mind before you can get writing. Perhaps, it is for that reason that a month by month structure falls into place for these pieces each year.

Eventually, I cracked the problem and here is the posting that fell into place. At its heart lies a few recurring themes that the words reconnaissance and rediscovery help to convey. The first of these turns up a lot in the trip summary and reflects my iterative approach to exploring the countryside. While there are times when I go somewhere and it all falls into place, there are many when I am setting things up for a return. The second refers to my realisation after a ten year spell (call it a decade if you want) that was a lengthening list of places where I hadn't been for a while. Compounding that was a review of photos in the gallery that revealed that a new visit was in order to make new replacement photos. Having another go at image processing can only do so much and that especially applies to scanning prints. It was a successful tack when it came to encouraging to go back to locations that once used to attract a lot of my attention.

Still on the subject of rediscovery, the joys of two-wheeled travel along country lanes were enjoyed too. Before the pedestrian hill wandering took hold, cycling was the way that I did all my exploring but 2007 didn't see much time spent on my bike. That was addressed in 2008 and continued into last year. On some of my walking trips, the usefulness of cycling was brought home to me and 2010 may become a year when I go away somewhere and hire out a bike for a little while, something that I haven't done for more than a decade. Who knows but I may get to taking my bike with me to somewhere further afield once I get over a certain fear of the consequences of mechanical failure or a wheel getting punctured.

Slowly Building Up A Head Of Steam

Appropriately for a year that was to see me revisiting a number of locales where I hadn't been for a while, the first walking trip was on familiar local turf. Mind you, it take me until the last Saturday of January to get things moving and you really end up with tight leg muscles if you decide to go up a hill in such blustery conditions that even standing upright takes a huge effort. That hike started outside the Cat and Fiddle pub before dropping down towards Wildboarclough and going up again to the top of Shutlingsloe before dropping back into Macclesfield again.

Two descriptions that were to fit February of last year were freezing and frenzied. The first of these was down to a visit to British shores by a spell of cold and snowy weather that tested out a Mountain Equipment down jacket obtained at a knockdown price in the January sales. Though the cold snap was nowhere near as severe as the one that we have had since before Christmas, mountain rescue teams were littering the media with warnings about the need for winter skills and equipment. Even so, that did little to stymie my walking in four nations in four weekends, the last of these slipping into March. Nevertheless, the first of these was a low level walk along Great Langdale that followed the Cumbrian Way for much of the journey to Ambleside. Even though I stayed low, that's not to say that I didn't need to keep my eyes peel for ice on the ground and some of it was none too nice, if I remember correctly. That Cumbrian adventure was followed by an Irish escapade, my first ever dedicated hillwalking trip over there. Snow still abounded though it was on the retreat and I was to find bare rock near the top of the Great Sugarloaf not far from Kilmacanogue. The outing was a good start and on a mild springy if grey day but it needs following up on a suitable occasion. After one outing on the western side of the Irish sea, there was another on its eastern flanks. That took me to Dyffryn Ardudwy in Wales for a circular yomp around by Moelfre with clag covering even lower tops. That put an end to any idea of reaching the summit of Moelfre but it didn't mean that the day was spoilt; low cloud has its own appeal too and the sun did get through from time to time, especially near the coast where I found old burial chambers reminiscent of Irish dolmens. After walks in England, Ireland and Wales, it was Scotland's turn and the escapade was a very wet one with an hour or two of dryness and sunshine. The starting point was Tarbet on the shores of Loch Lomond and I rounded the lower slopes of Cruach Tarbet before doing the same with the head of Loch Long and following Glen Croe to reach Rest and Be Thankful. There was some dryness at my finishing point after a wet weather walk up the glen but Argyll soon got if hefty shower conveyor belt going to convince me that I was going home at the right time.

The remainder of March was quiet so it was over to April to be busier and it is here where the order of things got a bit confusing so I'll eschew the practice of following chronological order. At Easter, I fitted in a memorable if short first visit to Aviemore to spend a wonderful day around Rothiemurchus with some ascent of lesser summits to really set off the proceedings. Other outings were less dramatic and featured a contorted trot from Congleton to Leek on a mixture of public rights of way. There may have been a battle between sun and cloud overhead but the walk was not spoilt at all. A long overdue return trip to Derbyshire was in the same vein with the low-level walking offering a perfect opportunity to break in a pair of Meindl Burma boots that I purchase in the January sales at a knockdown price. My chosen route shadowed the River Derwent between Baslow and Matlock. My choice of starting point exposed me to a busy Chatsworth with a TVR owners' meet no doubt helping the visitor numbers. The hoards were lost by continuing south on an ever brightening afternoon. In between all of this, there was a trip to Wales for a hike from Dolwyddelan to Llyn Idwal on a gloriously hot sunny day that needed the hat that I purchased in Capel Curig after rounding Carnedd Moel Siabod. There may not have been so much height gain involved but I was content with being surrounded by hills.

Into Early Summer

May started with a trip to Eden or, to be more precise, to Cumbria's Eden Valley. I hadn't ever gone walking around Appleby-in-Westmorland before but this was to become a good introduction. This is Pennine Way country and I was to find my way onto the said trail in the vicinity of High Cup Nick. Any designs on reaching the Nick were stymied by a late train but a good day of walking was enjoyed on an ever improving afternoon when cloud surrendered to the sun. Another sampling of the verdant scenery that makes May my favourite month of the year took my from Leek back home to Macclesfield. It might have been Plan B on the day but I was rewarded for my patience around Tittesworth Reservoir with wondrous piece and quiet as I continued to Dane Bridge from where I picked my way for the rest of the journey home. Another Cumbrian outing completes the set for the month with a jaunt from Coniston by way of the Cumbrian Way and Loughrigg Fell, an idea inspired by a cold weather trip in May. It was not quietest of routes and the day was sure to draw the masses anyway but it had its quieter stretches too.

The Cumbrian theme continued into June with my embarking on a walk from Kirkstone Pass to Windermere by way of Stony Cove Pike, Threshthwaite Mouth, Park Fell and Troutbeck Park. It was a day often spent in the sort of splendid isolation that allows some clearance of mind. Any idea of taking the high route around by Ill Bell was left for another occasion in the interests of time. The steep ascent from Stony Cove Pike may have had its role in persuading me of the sense of a lower level route. There was a weekend visit to Scotland too with a wet and dry perambulation along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe to Kinlochleven. The start was none too promising but the improvement soon started but, while I sorted out some hill identification by topping out on Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin, the idea of obtaining better photos than those which I already had has yet to be fulfilled. With the scenery that resides up there, there's never any harm in returning time after time. The day after saw me enjoying a resplendent Sunday morning stroll among Inverness' leafier parts; the Ness Islands are well worth finding. As was to be the case throughout the summer, my bike was carrying me out on local outings with an evening trip around by Congleton and an hot afternoon cycle taking in a busy Tatton Park and a quieter Duham Massey. After that deluge of outdoors activity, the month ended with a social trip to Ireland that took in the hills around Gougane Barra and the cliffs around Kilkee.

Barbecue Summer?

Except for ongoing local cycling trips, July was a much quieter month for me and the weather that we got was to make a mockery of the barbecue summer predictions in the long term forecast from the Met Office (these must have become an embarrassment by now and the winter forecast was more accurate). The month did start with a visit to Liverpool while on a damp day trip to the Isle of Man, a place where I hadn't gone before and hope to revisit sometime for some hill country hiking. Even with a continuous mixture of weather, I found a dry afternoon (and evening) at the end of the month to go walking from Kidsgrove to Wheelock. Along the way, I took in Mow Cop before getting to the Macclesfield Canal on the South Cheshire Way and then crossing to the Trent and Mersey Canal for the remainder of the trek.

August proved to be more active on the hillwalking front and it began with a flourish too. A day spent walking around Cwm Cau may have caught more low cloud than sun but what could have been a continually hot August day had its cooler interludes. It was that point that kept annoyance at bay when I saw sun gracing the sands near Barmouth. Generally, August was like July in that a mixed bag of weather was on offer. There may have been visions of basing myself in Mallaig for a week and spreading out to the likes of the Small Isles, Knoydart, Ardnamurchan and Glenfinnan but I was deflected by thoughts of seeing the are in less than ideal conditions. The result was that I headed east to Aviemore for a few days instead and the weather offered quiet a mixture, quite unlike the faultless day spent up there earlier in the year. Day one got me a soaking as I walking over the summits of Meall a’ Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a’ Chaillich and Craiggowrie and dampness wouldn't leave well alone as I went exploring around Craigellachie. Day two was better behaved with only light showers about while on what became a low-level reconnaissance walk Inshriach that took in Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean. The evening saw me seek out the start of the Speyside Way in much the same vein. Day three had an unforeseen damp start that was the cause of my making use of the Strathspey Railway, an experience that changed my mind about steam locomotives. After that, it was onto Glen More where more "rooting around" ensued as I reached Strath Nethy under dull skies that were battling the sun. Later, I followed the "Old Logging Way" back to Aviemore to await the overnight train for the south. That wasn't all of my Scottish wandering because the end of the month saw me ensconced in Edinburgh with the Festival in its death throes. An escape to the Pentland Hills occupied Saturday after a stroll over Salisbury Crags. What otherwise was a dry sunny day was punctuated by light rain showers but there still was much to enjoy. There may have been notions of an excursion to Melrose but they were parked for an easier day around the city revisiting old haunts. For now, the Eildon Hills lay unvisited but there always needs to be a reason to return. That itself reminds of what I did between those Scottish outings when I cycled to and from Lyme Park near Disley in Cheshire. The outbound route took in the Middlewood Way, Marple and part of the Macclesfield Canal while the way back went out the back gate of Lyme to take a more hilly course that skirted Kettleshulme and dropped into Pott Shrigley and Bollington. The latter course may have involved more walking due to the gradients encountered and under ever whitening skies. The cycling was broken otherwise by restful exploration of Lyme Park on what was a busy day. Nevertheless, I still found a quiet spot where I could linger while and discover one of the joys of cycling: having more time to loiter in between all the travel. It was all part of a little photography project of mine that was sending sending me around by various locations in the hope of improving the Cheshire album in the photo gallery. That was set to prove successful though there are other places that I'd like to revisit with the same purpose in mind. Anything that gets you out of doors has to be a good thing.

A Quieter Time Following A Rush

It seems that every busy month is either preceded or followed by a quieter one and August had both. September was less frenetic though there was a social visit to Ireland at the start of the month. Apart from a walk around by Springfield Castle, there was no Irish excursion of note while I was over there. An "Indian summer" visited us later in September and the realisation that I hadn't been there for a few years sent me back to Wharfedale in Yorkshire. The weather on the day was splendid and many were out and about. To a point, that limited the enjoyment of walking all the Wharfe between Burnsall and Howgill but it was quieter from there on and there was plenty of space for all around Bolton Abbey. The last stretch to Ilkley offered plenty of solitary moments should they have been required.

October wasn't the busiest of months for outdoor trips either though I did make my way to the Yorkshire Dales again. This time, it was a circular walk around Ingleton that drew me. That took in limestone country and crossed both Scales Moor and Ingleborough. Sunshine was a rare commodity until late in the day but that didn't dull the delights of being among limestone pavements and outcrops. On a brighter day, it would have been photographic heaven so I'll keep the idea on file for when such an opportunity arises. The same applies to explorations of the Lune Valley along which I had made my way while travelling out from Lancaster and back again.

Waking Up For The Winter

People in Cumbria will have good reason to remember last November and not for the best of reasons. The deluges were partially to blame for my outdoors activity being limited to a day trip to Chester with urban strolls there and around Stockport. My giving old photos the treatment that they needed was the cause of spending a lot of spare time sat in front of a computer too so I set up a plan to snap myself out from what was beginning to feel like a rut.

The result of that plotted escape was a weekend trip to Fort William at the start of December and the it started with a frosty morning too. The evening before saw me getting drenched while picking up tickets for the Caledonian Sleeper that was to carry me north overnight. While cloud was advancing from the south-west, I enjoyed the morning sunshine with a stroll around Fort William before heading out to Morar for a spot of reconnaissance after taking in the sights from the train while on way over there. The next day was relentlessly cloudy while I set to undertake my first visit to Ardgour. It looked as if Glen Coe was catching the sun but some ideas have been planted in my mind for future excursions. As if to draw me back again, the sun seemed to making a better battle with the clouds and I on my way home on the day after. The weekend reminded me of the plans that might have come to fruition in August but I wonder if the way that things have come about is better. A Sunday afternoon visit to Derbyshire followed a week later but an onset of wet conditions may have put paid to any notions that my Scottish break had been a week too early. Even so, I enjoyed a walk from Edale to Hope that took in Mam Tor and the Great Ridge. What amazed me was how fast I got from the top of Lose Hill to Hope's train station and with some time to spare before a Manchester train came along too. It still was a nice complement to the few hours spent testing a puncture repair on a cycle that took in some of Cheshire's hill country as well. They were the last outings of 2009 that I made before snow came and visited us. For making something of the white stuff, I embarked on a local stroll that took in the Macclesfield Canal, Tegg's Nose, the Gritstone Trail and Rainow. The lying snow was pristine and clear skies allowed the sun to do its magic so I reached home again satisfied with what was gained by my labours. A trip across the Irish Sea completed the year and, though another social one, there were hikes around by Springfield Castle and Kilmeedy in West Limerick.

And so to 2010…

In summary, there was quite a mix of destinations with new locations like Wicklow and the Cairngorms mixed in with local haunts in Cheshire and places visited a while back. 2010 is without big plans and has a feeling of a watershed about it. The idea of doing something a little different from previous years appeals. As of now, I have no idea what it might be but it won't be a case of consigning all previous things to the bin. Saying that, having a bit more variety and less repetition wouldn't be a bad thing.

A Cwm Cau Horseshoe

A circular walk wasn’t what I had in mind, let alone some sort of horseshoe itinerary. The original idea had been to walk from Minffordd to Dolgellau by way of Cadair Idris. It simply was to be a case of following the Minffordd Path up and the Pony Path down before making for my destination either by road or a mixture of tarmac bashing and traversal over rights of way through fields. However, I changed my mind along the way because the distance between Cadair Idris and Dolgellau can be deceptive and the time that I had until my bus to Machynlleth looked more limited on the top of Penygadair, a summit that I wasn’t so bothered about reaching after managing the feat next to three years ago. Minffordd looked the nearer and I wanted to make sure of my way home, not at all a problem on the day.

My choice of Wales was based on the fact that an east moving rain belt might leave earlier to afford a drier day’s walking than might be had further east. It seems that I made the right decision and especially so when you consider that a rain belt was ensconced over Ireland during their August bank holiday weekend, not at all what they need right now. The Cadair Idris idea was in mind for a while after a previous attempt came to naught and less involved transport arrangements only added to its appeal.

The trouble with both Cadair Idris and the Rhinogau is that they are great collectors of clag whenever there is any uncertainty with regard to the weather conditions. Their proximity to the Irish Sea is what I think to be the cause and I seem to have made more visits when the tops were shrouded than when they were clear. However, a Spring Bank Holiday weekend “invasion”, made trickier by the Cadair Idris hill race when it came to accommodation, a few years back, proved that there are days when air clarity reigns supreme. Saturday’s incursion wasn’t to be one of those with low clouds smothering the summits from time to time. Even so, that reduction in visibility never obscured the presence of those fearsome inland cliff faces that surround Cwm Cau, so all was safe.

Apart from safety concerns, the presence of so much cloud didn’t bother me so much because its absence could make for the sort of day when lazing rather than more strenuous activity would be the more tempting. So, while temperatures weren’t what they might have been, it was still hot sweaty work on the way uphill from Minffordd. In hindsight, my starting point probably should have been the car park at the junction of the B4405 and the A487 but I pottered down the former to following my intended right of way as the map showed it. You could say that I was taking a safety first approach on my first visit to the locality but it offered the opportunity to find my bearings and that can never be a bad thing, even if road traffic required a little negotiation.

My route away from tarmac was soon located, and a mental note made of the off-road alternative. The path underfoot was well-made with plenty of steps easing the way uphill through the woodland with waterfalls to my right. It was also quiet, an undeniable bonus when steep inclines are to be negotiated; there’s nothing like the freedom to determine your pace and rest stops without the nuisance of leap frogging that blights so many popular tracks through upland areas. Views of the hills surrounding Llyn Mwyngil (also known as Tal-y-llyn Lake) took up the time spent stationary. Cloud denied opportunities for photography but you can’t knock beauty when there’s no sun.

The gradients took to being kinder after the treeline was crossed and I was presented with a choice: staying with the Minffordd Path as planned or diverting around by Mynydd Moel instead. Having seen an information board before the uphill action commenced, the latter was tempting but I decided to keep with the original course and continued towards Llyn Cau on a path that was at times boggy and unclear. That may have been the cause of my approaching the corrie rather nearer than might have been intended but it was nothing that a spot of doubling back couldn’t fix and it was on open access land after all. In fact, I could have continued around the lake to embark on a steep ascent that reminds me of the Devil’s Kitchen path in the Ogwen Valley. Some might find its like exhilarating, but there are times too when making it harder for yourself than it needs to be is not in order.

The slopes of Craig Lwyd saw my footfall instead of the above more adventurous alternative whose presence hadn’t come to my notice by then, anyway. There were a goodly number of folk plying the way hereabouts but not so many as to make it feel like the walking equivalent of the M6 or the M25. The gradient was energetic but the coolness at above 600 metres in height kept the sweating in check. An extra layer was needed when things levelled off; steeper gradients never last. Airy ground became the order of things with views down to the lakes beneath competing with the slopes, craggy or not, for attention. Still, the ridge-like feel wasn’t sufficient to scare though it did provide every encouragement for keeping away from sharp steep stony deathly drops.

Craig-Cwm Amarch looked quite impressive when it came into view. Low clouds were wont to envelop me and anyone at this ca. 700 metres height sporadically and the 791 metres summit in question got cloaked too; the accompanying decline in temperature was the reason for my wrapping up warmer. Keeping a respectable distance from the edge, I left the peopled Craig-Cwm Amarch to cross Craig Cau for Penygadair. This may have meant a very noticeable height loss and subsequent regain, but my legs weren’t complaining too much as Cadair Idris’ highest point came quickly enough.

Like many others there at the time, I lingered on the summit for a while. On my visit in August 2006, it was a breezy spot that felt more exposed than it felt on the return trip. Higher clouds abounded that day but with no sign of blue sky to complement it. For the second visit, the low cloud stayed away for long enough to allow glimpses of Barmouth and the mouth of the Mawddach Estuary from on high. In fact, there were decent views all around but the sense that you were under a cap of cloud that wasn’t everywhere was inescapable. It was a reminder of Kerry folk and their saying that Brandon on the Dingle peninsula has “his” cap on. The cause would be the same: moist unstable sea forming into wisps and clots as it rose in height.

It was a look at my watch that put me off the idea of continuing to Dolgellau, in spite of the attractions of following a known path in conditions with occasional lack of air clarity. Thoughts of rushing things overpowered any such advantages so I opted for a shorter option that took in more summits, one of them being Mynydd Moel, and returning by the path that tempted me earlier. Along the way, I crossed nameless tops with ample views to the north. Whatever numbers of people had accumulated dissipated quickly as I continued to the east. While I questioned the sanity of the enterprise, the easy slopes to the top of Mynydd Moel were surmounted with one last look around before I started to pick my way down.

Looking at the map now, following the fence that I crossed to reach the said summit downhill wouldn’t have been so foolhardy if mapping can be trusted not to hide some unpleasant obstacle among the otherwise none too frightening slopes. On the day, I dropped down the hill’s eastern slopes on a well-defined if occasionally challenging path to reach an informal one going south along the eastern bank of a watercourse. The down-slopes didn’t look so threatening from then on and I crossed the Nant Caenewydd near a wall that I followed west to pick up a maintained path taking me back towards the junction where I had that earlier quandary. My old Explorer OL23 showed the course of the formal Mynydd Moel path, but that seems to be omitted from the Quo data that I have. That makes me wonder what a newer map might be missing but it’s all access land so no one should be hollering at any devil-may-care cross-country wanderers like myself.

The way down steepened but it was known to me from earlier in the day and I knew that no rushing was needed. It still wasn’t busy and took me back to level ground in good time. This time, I followed the path to the car park that I had rejected earlier and reached my waiting point for the bus with time to spare, never a cause for complaint. However, your brain really doesn’t need to take to wandering into questions like whether you are at the right place to stop a bus when it is unmarked and whether the bus would be excessively delayed on its way south from Caernarfon. All such concerns turned out to be unfounded, a good way of ensuring that they didn’t sully a fabulous day out.

Travel arrangements:

Return train journey from Macclesfield to Machynlleth and 32/X32 return bus trip from Machynlleth to Minffordd.

Finding dry weather over the weekend

In marked contrast to July, I seem to have got in a proper hill walking outing right on the first day of August. It was a case of first deciding that I was going somewhere and then finding a dry spot on the weather map. That took me on a train journey to Machynlleth in Wales by way of a wet Wolverhampton. More specifically, I ended up walking what might be termed a Cwm Cau horseshoe and that took me over Cadair Idris. Starting and finishing at the Minfford Hotel meant that I ended up avoiding Dolgellau, a perhaps more usual starting point but with a longer walk in to the hills, too. When I finally begin to get the lead out with my trip reports, I'll tell you more about the escapade but a good day was had with a cap of cloud keeping both sunburn and heatstroke at bay. That might have limited the photographic output but there was still plenty of that too with the sun coming through at times.

Yesterday saw me pulling out the bike for an afternoon run around Macclesfield. Given that I was (and am) still feeling the effects of Saturday's exertions in my legs, steeper inclines were avoided on a spin that took in places such a Siddington, Marton, North Rode, Oakgrove and Sutton. The weather was reminiscent of what I enjoyed in Wales the day before so it wasn't unsuited to a spot of activity. Some roads like the A537, A34, A54 and A523 had their fair share of traffic but Cheshire has its allotment of quiet country lanes too. They can be both narrow and twisty so keeping so being alert in readiness for the occasional car is always clearly in order. Even so, sufficient opportunity for relaxing progress was on offer and the surroundings were resplendent to boot.

All in all, the weekend made an excellent start to August (and autumn? Well, some are wondering…) so long as you picked the right spot. It has been a bank holiday one in Éire and Scotland so I hope that they were able to make something of it. July hasn't been so kind to us so the only hope is that the predicted mixture of rain and sunshine allows some drier interludes for enjoying the countryside at this point in the year and there's a bank holiday weekend for England and Wales at the end of the month.