Category: Cheshire
Same area, similar walks, different seasons
4th March 2014 In June and September of last year, I undertook two walks that followed similar routes. Both started from the Cat & Fiddle Inn between Macclesfield and Buxton before going over the top of Shining Tor. From Cheshire's county top, I dropped down to Lamaload Reservoir and it from there home that the routes diverged. My recollection of the weather on both days was similar apart from clouds hijacking the sky more effectively on the June day. In fact, inspecting photos has revealed much more cloud at the start of the June walk than I had thought so it was of little surprise when it got very handy at blocking the sun later on in the day.
There was another similarity too: prior weariness from the course of life. Though some good weather came at the end of May that was a harbinger of the summer to come, my energy had been sapped so I spent more time indoors than should have been the case. The Saturday of the Spring Bank Holiday weekend even saw me watching Terry Abraham's excellent The Cairngorms in Winter with Chris Townsend instead of being outside in the sunshine. With the summery weather outside my window, watching winter scenes did feel a bit odd and it took until Sunday evening before I got myself out and about. As I trotted up to Tegg's Nose, the heat was more like that of summer and I enjoyed a pleasant evening around there before I returned home again. Shutlingsloe and its surroundings just looked resplendent in the evening sunshine.
The sunny summer and the aftermath of my mother's passing had come together to ground me in September too and much of the rest of the year was taken up with sending out memorial cards of her to near relatives and anyone who gave us support during what was a tricky time for our family. There also was a major project kicking off at work that worried me, so that added to the load on my mind. Between all of these, I was flattened, but the last Sunday in September saw me out and about from the middle of the day until light failed. It was a stunning day with sunlight as strong as on a summer's day before the lengthening night made its presence well felt.
June 2nd
After that Spring Bank Holiday weekend torpor, I mustered up the energy to commence a stroll from the Cat and Fiddle Inn at midday on Sunday. Though forecast to be sunny, clouds got in the way for much of the afternoon. Even with a limited supply of sunshine, a walk remains a walk and I enjoyed what was ahead of me. Also, I was trying out a then new Pentax K5 II to see what it could do. Prior to that, it had been out on evening strolls in the Riverside Park in Macclesfield, so this was its first away trip.
The way from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to the top of Shining Tor is very familiar to me and I suspect it is the same for many others who appreciate the hills lying between Macclesfield and Buxton. Of a weekend, you'll never have it to yourself like I had on a weekday in December 2007. Then, I went all the way from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Whaley Bridge via both Shining Tor and Cat's Tor before dropping by Windgather Rocks into Kettleshulme and then leaving the unpleasant B5470 to follow the opposite side of Toddbrook Reservoir into Whaley Bridge. It is a walk that I fancy repeating even if I already have described it on here already.
What I had missed on that walk and any before it was a quick way from Shining Tor down to Lamaload Reservoir. The boundary of open access land overlaps with it as does a walk, so either might explain how I missed it for so long. After reaching the top of Shining Tor, I sought out this right of way and immediately set to losing the height that I had gained while taking in all that lay around me. That included the western flank of Cat's Tor as the sun dodged and ducked through cloud cover to issue intermittent lighting on the landscape. After reaching a saddle where a footpath towards the A537 crossed my line of travel, it was time to gain a little height again before I lost it again for good when dropping to the reservoir.
Once across the splendidly named Hooleyhey Lane, I dawdled by the reservoir in search of photos. With a long evening available, there was no need to rush so I lunched at the same time. Unfortunately, the cloud cover left slim pickings for making the sort of the photos for which I was hoping so I eventually got going again and made my way towards Rainow. That took me through woods to the north of Lamaload before I crossed a field, losing height as I did so. From this point, I was minded to head towards Ginclough and then to drop through Rainow by road. What changed my mind was the passing of a lad on a quad bike who I fancied leaving go his merry way undisturbed.
Instead, I got myself onto the works road using the public footpath diverting away from the works yard itself. This led me by Snipe House and onto Berristal Road before I reached the B5470 to the east of Rainow. The sun did its utmost to break out from time to time and delighted the senses whenever the feat was managed. The air was that of a peaceful summer's evening and it's the sort of sensation that lingers in a mind like mine. Looking behind me reminded me just how much wilder my surroundings felt at the start of the walk and how they contrasted with the relative domestication of the tree-lined fields that I was passing. Lamaload had been where moorland turned to pasture land and the latter was to accompany me most of the way home.
Crossing the B5470, I made as if to follow the Gritstone Trail north only to stay on a bridleway that took a lower course along Ingersley Vale with the River Dean for company as it had been since I left Lamaload Reservoir behind me. Others had the same idea as me but we were never in each other's way either. In time, I was deposited on the road near another stretch of the Gritstone Trail. From there, it was on tarmac into and through Bollington until I reached the Macclesfield Canal. Before I joined that, there was a stop at a shop for an ice cream that was enjoyed in Bollington's war memorial gardens.
The canal towpath was a busier place and I had a family in front of me, so my own impatience caused a swap over to the much broader Middlewood Way. Any sunnier interludes made this look like impetuousness but I must have wanted to walk at my own pace and not that set by others at the time. With alternative routes, there was little point in being a nuisance anyway. If there was plenty of room to let everyone enjoy the dry weather and the verdant greenery at their own pace, then it was better that way.
It may have been how far I had walked too because I was relishing progress and looked forward to reaching home where a longer post walk rest could be savoured. It had been a good walk on a good day. Later on, there had been relaxed serendipity that led me back from Rainow by a more interesting if indirect route than just following a road all the way into Macclesfield again. Photos of Lamaload Reservoir had to wait, but that was of little consequence when it was an excuse for another walk later on in the year.
September 29th
It may have been autumn during the reprise of the Lamaload hike, but there was a lot of the spirit of summer left in the air too. The day was much sunnier than it had been in June and it scarcely clouded over at all, at any point. Again, the start was a midday one, but the finish was a little after dark but I was under street lights by then anyway.
The route from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Lamaload Reservoir was identical to that followed in June with the exception being that there was more sunshine around. Knowing how long it would take had its uses too with the shortening days. No longer could one dawdle as one could with the longer hours of daylight in June. Still, that didn't stop me adding a twist to the walk later on either and being in familiar countryside meant that I had a sense of how things would take too. That applied in June and was a reason for much-needed relaxation.
More photographic success also was enjoyed at Lamaload this time around. In fact, the only slight irritation might have been the location of the sun in the sky. While a sun compass probably should have been used, sometimes it takes actual visits to see how lighting on landscapes actually works. With that extra knowledge, you can rethink the time of day for a visit, and I reckon a later one on a summer evening could have its uses so long as I can get home before dark. Buses are in short supply in the evening time so walking time would need to be allowed.
The route I took replicated that of the June walk as far as the foot of the reservoir, but a different course was taken from there. Instead, I followed a public footpath that shadowed the western side of the reservoir and passed Lower Ballgreave Farm. Around there, I fancied picking up another path to get to the A537 but nothing looked too promising and I headed to the single track road leading to Hooleyhey Lane instead. Leaving a Volkswagen camper van to struggle up the incline with cars behind it, I was after traffic free interludes. The narrow carriageway meant that there wasn't a lot of room when a vehicle came but I made it past Ankers Knowl Farm and found a path across a field in the direction of Greenways Farm.
After crossing both the old and new Buxton to Macclesfield roads, passing the aforementioned farm should have had me on a right of way heading directly for Forest Chapel. However, not seeing obvious signs of passage and, moreover, not wanting to be blundering about next to someone's house, I returned to the moderately busy Old Buxton Road and found another that skirted Whitehills to take me towards the same eventual destination. The start of that was an inviting, but a soggy sodden patch brought some navigation related head scratching and I might have been the cause of sending a hill runner in the wrong direction before I righted myself and went uphill to reach Charity Lane. Then, Forest Chapel was not at all far away and I dallied a while beside the hamlet's church before continuing on my way.
Though my direction of travel was towards Shutlingsloe, the elevated vantage point offered by the roadway I was now following was such that I could gaze back towards my starting point. Shining Tor may not be the most distinctive pile but dominated any eastward sight I chose to sample in the evening sunshine. Previous explorations had me sticking on either side of the crumpled landscape that I was surveying but never both. Sometimes, things come alive when you associate them like that.
There was one last hurrah away from tarmac for the day, and I got to revisit sights that I used to see more regularly, especially with a bike in tow. Another departure was being able to attach more accurate names to hills like Yarnshaw Hill and Buxtors Hill as I followed the concessionary path. It may have been getting late for a day in September, but many were out and about still. Car parks around Macclesfield Forest remained busy while some were starting to think about heading home.
My way home was ongoing, but there was one last visit that I needed to make. It was too late for me to make a trip to the top of Shutlingsloe though some were up there in the declining light. A nearby car probably meant that they could stay out later while I made do with a relative close up view of the distinctive hill. A walk from the top of Shining Tor to the top of Shutlingsloe and home again needed to wait, and my legs weren't too sorry about that either.
Light was well into the process of failing as I paced by Ridgegate Reservoir so I now had a sense of purpose about me. It hadn't stopped me savouring the ambience of the tree cover on the way down to Trentabeck Reservoir just a little earlier. Next up was Bottoms Reservoir, then on through Langley, by Sutton and Gurnett before the darkness was relieved by street lighting. A head torch was in my possession but not needing to use one is good too. The day had been good.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 58 from Macclesfield to the Cat & Fiddle Inn
A matter of building some confidence
3rd March 2014 Last Saturday came stunning but there was a list of things to be doing so I didn't get to making the most of the weather. Nevertheless, a useful hour was spent out on my new Dahon bike. The journey was short and took me from my house to Bollington and back. The Middlewood Way formed the outbound leg and offered useful off road acclimatisation to someone who has not done so much cycling over the last two years. Finding oneself negotiating a busy junction after being out of practice can fell more daunting that it should so that needed sorting.
Aside from the there being no road traffic, there are also was a chance to fine tune the set up of the bike. It was easy to stop and raise the saddle to the right height as well as tweaking the handlebars. Though there were others out and about, it didn't mean that the bike could be put through its paces to see how fast it went and how well the brakes really worked. Like my mountain bike, the Dahon is low geared and that may be just as well anyway. A touring bike might be a better proposition for any longer distances like going from Macclesfield to Chester like I did the most of four years ago now.
On the way back, I tried both it and myself out over roads and could do so with a little more confidence knowing that seat and handlebar settings were more optimal. A major roundabout was negotiated safely along with several road junctions. A diversion through a quieter housing area was a deliberate way of adding to the acclimatisation before going further afield.
Before that, I need to regain more of the fitness that I used to have because any hills tested me, even smaller ones. That could mean more short cycles like the one last Saturday and I am wondering about popping the mountain bike on rollers (otherwise known as cycle trainers) too so wet, windy or cold weather and shorter hours of daylight no longer can be an excuse for not being on a bike more often unless a certain prospect of boredom does for my good intentions. Going somewhere for real is a motivator that is hard to beat by other means.
The North
22nd January 2014 Having been tempted by a recommendation from Simon Armitage (Yorkshire poet and author of Walking Home) on the cover of the hardback edition in a bookshop, I got a digital copy of Paul Morley's The North and set to making my way through it. Anyone seeking something with a linear narrative will not find it here yet it lets one on a lot of the spirit of northern England in its own inimitable way. The mixture of memoir, digressions and side notes takes some acclimatisation and I found the sense of repetition in the book's early stages a little frustrating in that it felt as if not much progress was being made. Maybe that was because of the description of a young mind's developing consciousness and sense of place and belonging to there. Later on, things grew more linear when it came to telling of how Morley worked out his place in the world and what trade was to allow him to pay his way in it.
Interspersed between these, there is a reverse chronology of notable events in the north of England, especially when those relating to the development of the place and those who come from there. These include politics, industry and the better known folk associated with these. The interjections complemented any explorations of the conceptualisation of what it meant to be northern English and how the north of England came to be how it is in the main text.
Because I read the book in fits and starts before longer journeys allowed me to spend more time with it and grow accustomed to its eccentricities, a few months elapsed before I finished it during that trip to Edinburgh a few weeks ago. The non-linearity of the narrative meant that that it took some work before I got used to it and the fact that I was reading it on my Nexus 7 made me wish for hardback so that I could see more progress (one came into my possession later so I can dip in and out of it during free moments at home). However, it was the electronic gadget that ensured that the book was with me when I could make time to read it, a common failing of mine when it comes to paper editions of books. Apparently, the inspiration for the book's structure came from The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman and it was the familiarity of many of the places described within its pages that drew me along while filling me in on a lot of details that I otherwise would have missed. For one thing, I never realised how fluid the Cheshire-Lancashire county boundary has been over the centuries and there was but a single lesson found in those pages.
After the effort of working through The North, it's time for a more leisurely read and Ramble On by Sinclair McKay is just that. The story of how recreational walking became what it is for so many of us today may be somewhat familiar to me but there always are other insights and these are to be found here too. Still, I am tempted to sample Tristram Shandy to see just how contorted its narrative is and test how it inspired the flow of The North. For now though, that can wait because it is best to take things easy while life's events allow you to do so.
2012, before an advancing life storm
31st December 2013 For various reasons, this summary of my walking during 2012 is arriving twelve months late. That's mainly because I was not in the right frame of mind for writing it this time last year. The subsequent year has been life changing yet wandering through countryside not only did not stop but its restorative effects never were more needed. Before that though, things felt more steady and here is how things went.
January saw me staying local with a three counties stride (Cheshire, Derbyshire & Staffordshire) between the Cat and Fiddle Inn and Buxton that took in the Three Shire Heads bridge. It was having extra time on the day that allowed that to happen, even if I arrived at Grinlow Tower, or Solomon's Temple, too late in the day for much in the way of photography. Even now, I have yet to be there on an occasion when the conditions allowed for the sort of photographs that I like to savour, and there were two visits during 2013. Some things take time to happen, so patience is a prerequisite.
There no such constraints when I walked from Alnmouth train station to Embleton by way of Northumberland's pleasing North Sea coastline and the remains of Dunstanburgh Castle, now under the care of English Heritage. What I got to experience was the sort of crisp sunny day that adds so much to a walk. That was much more than a previous walk in the same area more than six years before.
March was a quiet month on the walking front because of heavy work commitments, and April was hardly any better, even if I was not working as hard. Even so, I did to walk up Nab Head near Bollington as an addition to a cycle that circled around by Pott Shrigley. Even with a heavy cold towards its end, May worked out much better with an evening spent around Tatton Park and other spots in Knutsford. The next day saw me get as far as Waterhouses in Staffordshire to fulfil an often aborted scheme: following the Manifold Trail from there to Hulme End. When that turned out to take less time than expected, I extended the walk to take in both Wolfscote Dale and Biggin Dale to finish up in Hartington. That was another design fulfilled on a day when sunshine eventually beat cloud cover to deliver its delights to anyone out and about. Later in May, I returned to Northumberland to visit Alnwick and Warkworth to see their castles. The day was hot, so it was best to limit exertions, and a previous heavy cold made that all the better as a plan. There were enough sights to savour anyway and, with views along the Aln and the Coquet available so easily, there was little need to rush along anyway.
The extended public holiday weekend at the start of June, the bank holiday was moved from its usual place at the end of May, offered an opportunity for a getaway and I struck lucky in Scotland's Eastern Highlands. Having based myself in Pitlochry, I took in the shores of Loch Ericht and sampled a little of the scenic drama of Glen Tilt. Sun was in short supply at times, and it limited what I could do when capturing a view of Blair Castle. Even that was better than the wetting that anyone attending the Diamond Jubilee Events in London, when rain that was very typical of the year pervaded. Just like a previous trip to Pitlochry nearly six years earlier, my walks were mere tasters, and I was more than happy with that at the time, unlike that preceding visit that left me yearning for more.
Having had it in my head for a while, I finally got to do an evening walk from Wilmslow to home after work during June, mostly using the route of the Bollin Valley Way except for where bank erosion necessitated an untidy diversion. It should have been a matter of reversing a previous walk along the route done of a winter afternoon whose timing mostly is lost to memory unless digital photos offer some resuscitation.
Even with 2012's reputation for wet weather, I still got some other pickings from its summer, and limitations on sunshine were a marked feature of otherwise dry weather walks. Looking on the positive side, it may have been better than walking in sultry heat. One outing in such conditions happened in July with a visit to Sedbergh, from where I walked as far as The Calf in the Howgill Fells. That out and back trek definitely was satisfying and left me open to more like it. That I tasted my best fish and chip supper added to the appeal. Maybe I should go there again, and there's more of Cumbria and Yorkshire to be explored or revisited as well.
August saw me head to Wales twice. First, it was to the Gower where I walked over Rhossili Common before picking up the coastal path from Rhossili to Port-Eynon by way of Worm's Head. The walk was glorious, even with cloud cover advancing from the west all the while. Also, I'd like to revisit the portion near Port-Eynon because it looked very primeval, and I was passing it with the object of catching a bus on my mind. As it happened, roads around the Gower were chaotic and the bus that I was making nearly was two hours late as a result. Still, I got back to Swansea for the night before light failed, and electrical rainstorms made landfall.
The Summer Bank Holiday weekend allowed time for a trip to Pembrokeshire, again revisiting somewhere not sampled since 2006. Only the Sunday of the weekend offered much in the way of dry weather, and there even were showers in the evening time. Before then, I got in a walk from Strumble Head all the way to Fishguard under ever cloudier skies. The day started well, so I saw Strumble Head at its best and very nearly got lured south-west instead of following the planned eastbound course. It was completed in dry weather, so there were no complaints, especially with the drenching that came the next day.
The second weekend of September granted us a glimpse of how the summer of 2012 might have been, and I popped over the county boundary into Derbyshire for a stroll by the River Dove that took me from Thorpe to Hartington. The southern end of Dovedale was mobbed with families and I couldn't get into my stride as I would have liked, but things were so much quieter north of Milldale that there was no such concern. What took over as I neared Hartington was how hot the day felt in the afternoon sun after I had emerged from Wolfscote Dale. Any thoughts of an extension as far as Longnor or Crowdicote were set aside in favour of returning home. Quite how those wearing suits during the well dressing ceremony stuck their attire in the heat is beyond me. Maybe I am more warm-blooded than some...
September ended with another sunny interlude, and that drew me along the Saddle of Kerridge and onto Tegg's Nose before I turned for home in the fading light. Ambitions for a trip to Teesdale in County Durham were frustrated by fatigue, so the more local yomp was what was needed. Indeed, it made me ask why I didn't head out among nearby hills more often than I did. Local walking has set that to rights, though a Teesdale incursion has yet to happen.
The first Sunday in October allowed a trot along the Goyt Valley that had lain in my mind for a while. On the day, so many walking possibilities came to mind that I had difficulty choosing between them. There was walking home from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to take in Shutlingsloe along the way. Trotting along the Gritstone Way between Bollington and Disley was another, though a late start put paid to that option; it was to serve me well later. The sight of clouds advancing from the south decided me at the Cat and Fiddle Inn, so I headed for the Goyt Valley, and it wasn't a bad choice at all. The ground conditions were well soggy after all the rain that had fallen during the preceding six months, and that was expected. Autumn and winter walks bring with them encounters with mud, so that was no irritation, and I had sunshine as far as the dam of Errwood Reservoir. Cloud took over then and the shore of Fernilee Reservoir was shadowed under overcast skies. Since I quite fancy retracing these steps with some sun, that is another excuse for a return sometime. When Whaley Bridge was reached, there was no dissatisfaction, and it had been great to clear my mind.
November saw me make two trips to Tatton Park near Knutsford after some photos of autumn colour. The first of these involved some foolish conduct on my part and what I got for my pains was a ripped jacket, soggy feet and clouding skies that thwarted my hopes. The second outing set things to rights and all was unperturbed again. It was in that spirit that I made use of a possibility left unused the month before: following the Gritstone Trail from Bollington to Disley with a visit to Lyme Park. The morning was glorious and clouds left the sun alone until I had got as far as Sponds Hill. Much was savoured before them, and it was my first sighting of sunlit Derbyshire hills from there. It was with satisfaction that I dropped into Lyme Park and ambled unhurried from there into Disley. There was one final trot before November was done: along the Macclesfield to Congleton along the banks of the local canal. The section between the Bosley locks and Buglawton was a delight, even under cloudy skies and with declining light. Though I repeated the trek in the opposite direction, it remains worth revisiting.
December brought more fraught prospects and Christmas week was a difficult one for our family. Worries about my parents' health pervaded, and there were much needed short walks taken for head clearance. One of these took me over to Tatton Park again and the winter sunlight did nothing to disappoint, if only I wasn't feeling so raw inside. 2013 then looked a tall order, yet I made it through the year. At the point, 2014 looks less foreboding, and it will be taken one day at a time. Life is not for grand designs right now, but smaller ones will do just fine. Hopefully, your 2014 will bring you good things, while I am happy to await what it brings me.
Simple walks around a time of tumult
14th December 2013 At the end of November last year, I set aside some time for a what I would call a mid-winter break prior to the onslaught of the Christmas season. Such was my torpor that I did not get away anywhere and so more than contented myself with two walks near home. The account of the first of these already has appeared on here and took me from Bollington to Disley by way of the Gritstone Trail so it is the second that inspires this posting. The tale also carries us into 2013 after a spot of life upheaval along the way too.
November 25th, 2012
That second walk was a far simpler affair and went along the banks of the Macclesfield Canal between the town that gives it its name and Congleton. Foolishly, I began my journey later in the day than was appropriate for a distance of around ten miles; looking back at the photos, I now realise that I dawdled around Victoria Park in Macclesfield too and that cannot have helped timing. The trajectory was southward and I had sunshine on me nearly as far as the flight of 12 locks near Bosley. That part was more than familiar to me following various trots over the past decade and a Spring Bank Holiday Monday evening was spent getting that far before returning home again via Gawsworth.
Even with the prospect of clouding skies and declining light, I continued south as far as Congleton on my November stroll. Bosley's flight of locks are an impressive construction in their own way and remind me of another Thomas Telford design: Neptune's Staircase on the Caledonian Canal near Banavie. Cheshire's counterpart drops or raises boats around 36 metres and it led me towards the part of the Macclesfield Canal that I consider the most scenic. After proceeding in a near straight line south from Oakgrove, it then doglegs along the Dane valley towards Buglawton. As it does so, it passes The Cloud and that adds to the attraction of walking this way.
With cloudy skies and the time of day on a November afternoon, I made a mental note to return this way again with better light. Even with an eye on the time, this was a pleasurable stretch that I could enjoy without any semblance of it being crowded. Even so, there was no time for dallying and I noted the landmarks that told me how much progress I was making. Buglawton came before daylight failed and lured me into thinking that there was so much further that I needed to go before reaching Congleton's train station and street lights. Before then, I made good use of my head torch as I dealt with damp and soggy stretches left after one of the wettest years on record.
January 20th, 2013
December 2012 turned out a difficult month and it looked like January was to be no better. There was a heightened sense of my parents' mortality and neither were in good health during Christmas 2012. During this time, there needed to be some walking with a visit to Tatton Park at December's start and more trots in Ireland during Christmas week itself. Anyone's head just needs clearing in those circumstances. Serious actions were facing us and a resistance was overcome only by a near-death experience at the start of 2013.
There was a period of uneasy settlement then and it was then when I got to reprise November's walk along the Macclesfield Canal, albeit with a start in Congleton instead. My hopes were for a sunlit trot at least as far as the Bosley locks because I have seen the rest in sunny conditions before, not least that November walk. A morning start was to ensure that I reached Macclesfield in daylight and it was promisingly frosty too. There were blue skies, but the sunshine was being filtered by a certain haze, so photographic ambitions were not to be fully realised.
Still, I was to glimpse more of what lies around Congleton than on the previous sitting and others were wandering the way too, though never so many for a sense of crowding. The drop into the valley of Dane in Shaw Brook was visible in all its glory instead of being hidden in darkness's cloak of invisibility. Just before light completely failed on that November walk, the elevation above Timbers Brook was discerned and it was all the clearer in the morning light. Both valleys highlight the elevated course of the canal through largely rural surroundings as it goes from Congleton's train station to Buglawton on the town's outskirts. In the reverse direction, meeting with Buglawton can make you think that you are nearer to the centre of Congleton than you are, a point brought home to me in declining November evening light.
North of Buglawton, the canal swings east to shadow the course of the River Dane. Unlike Timbers Brook and Dane in Shaw Brook, the river valley must have seemed too wide for Telford to have engineered a direct crossing and the later viaduct carrying the West Coast Mainline just how wide an expanse this is. The dogleg is handy though in that it offers a passing wander the chance to take in multiple sightings of The Cloud. As if that weren't enough, there is the sense of immersion in manicured countryside, plausibly away from everything and maybe everyone. At least, it felt like that I was passing the way as clouds hijacked the sky and put a stop to the sunshine.
After turning north again at what felt like a valley head, it was on to Bosley's twelve locks under darker skies. There was plenty left in the day, but the weather was turning. Each lock number and feeder pond was being noted on the ascent as a way of checking progress. Then, there was passing under the A54 that runs from Congleton to Buxton. Near the last of the locks, I spied an open public convenience that came in handy. Noting its offering of showers and washing machines made me realise what the Canal and Rivers Trust offers to those plying these thoroughfares by boat. It was a passing CRT staff member who had opened the convenience and locked again before he left, possibly for the day. That was fortunate timing for a grateful traveller.
It was all familiar territory from here to Macclesfield, and the various landmarks were reassuring signs of steady weaving progress as I wind my way through the countryside. The road crossing near Oakgrove really granted me a sense that I was nearing home again. So did passing near the railway line and Dane's Moss wood. Crossing under the A523 between Macclesfield and Leek came next and I was well on the outskirts of my destination by now.
Lyme Green was left behind as I made for Gurnett with Sutton's church steeple to seen to my right. A cutting then conveyed me towards Buxton Road from where I was to thread streets on my way home. The cause of the darkening skies was ever more apparent now as snowflakes tentatively drifted through the air. None of them were staying though, and the ground stayed as it was, at least for as long as it took me to reach my house again. Later, the snow was to grow heavier and coat any surfaces on which it fell. By then, I was satisfied at home and resting after the hike that I had undertaken. There still were excuses for a repeat, though.
Any more to come?
At various sittings, I have covered most of the length of the Macclesfield Canal on foot. In fact, the only outstanding sections lie between Congleton and Kidsgrove and I hope to sample these sometime soon as well. The Macclesfield Canal is one of those that suits walking more than cycling or horse riding, both tempting possibilities given its length. It is the towpath's lack of girth that stymies those possibilities, though I have tried on a few occasions, such as between Marple and High Lane while going from the end of Middlewood Way to Lyme Park. Other stretches around Macclesfield are the same, so my assessment has been strengthened. The handy nearby walking and its being ever different should keep me plying the towpath of our local canal for a while yet. Then, there's the Peak Forest Canal along with the Trent and Mersey Canal if I ever want to continue the theme. The latter has a wider towpath should I wish to cycle that way. Hopefully, no life traumas are needed to provide encouragement to make use of these brainwaves.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 38 between Macclesfield and Congleton. It brought me home after November 2012's walk and took me to Congleton for the January 2013 reprise.
