Category: Scotland
In times of plummeting mercury
12th November 2009 It had to come as it often does at the start of November. Temperatures fell on a Sunday night after a fairly pleasant day that saw me fail to get out into the open air as I would have liked. What followed it was a day that mixed fine crisp winter sun and typical November misty murkiness. Some may say that it's still autumn, but the weather feels like winter even if trees retain the last leaves after some stormy interludes. A lunchtime walk had me surveying what's left of the golden shreds after the Indian summer that came to us in September and October.
Apart from the chill in the air, November brought us some unsettled weather too and that seems set to continue; we may be in the midst of a lull at the moment but something more dramatic lies ahead of us if forecasters are right, and they are far from infallible. Thus, it is somewhat timely that The New York Times has brought us an article concerned with the avoidance of hibernation. The activity at the heart of it may be running, but the same malady afflicts those who explore the outdoors world so it's interesting to read another take on the subject, especially given November's habit of bringing grey murky weather with it.
It is tempting to retreat to virtual explorations on one's PC when it looks not so alluring out of doors. Nevertheless, that can have its place too and might even result in putting you out over your activation energy barrier to enjoy what abounds at this time of year. In recent weeks, I have been sprucing up old members of my online photo gallery. The ones of Skye are as good as done until I get to add to that collection from a day's walking over Ben Tianavaig last year. Lochaber has come next for a spot of improvement and Argyll hasn't escaped either with an old print taken by the shores of Loch Etive seeing an attempt to better it with a new scan and subsequent Photoshop work; there's a knack in keeping things realistic, a line on the wrong side of which I don't want to find myself.
The trouble with all this tinkering with old photos and is that it consumes spare time like it's going out of fashion, so a short session can gobble time that was set aside for other things. That's what happened to me on Sunday but it has its benefits too. Looking at those old photos reminds you of places where you haven't been for a while. For instance, I now think of that photo of Loch Etive as a less than sharp specimen and wonder about a return visit. In the past, I have played with the idea of a two-day walk from Taynuilt to Glen Coe or vice versa with an overnight stopover at a bothy. Nothing has come of it so far, but the idea of revisiting Loch Etive and passing along Glen Etive for the first time makes the notion attractive. If the weather was to play ball, then it would be even better.
While on the subject of a wandering mindset, there are places in Lochaber to revisit. Loch Treig and the Grey Corries fit in here and there's what's around Corrour too; the idea of disembarking from a Sleeper to walk to Fort William has come to mind from time to time. More civilised spots like Loch Lochy and Loch Arkaig also beckon. Mind you, a spot of bicycle hire might be an idea for the latter pair because progress along the Caledonian Canal as it rounds Meall Bhanabhie can seem so slow as to be infuriating. Still, this is a nice part of the world that should be traffic free and the distances involved make bicycle travel look the more useful. For long-distance travel on foot, there's the Great Glen Way of which I have sampled only a little and it would take me by Loch Lochy on its way to parts that have yet to host my footfall.
Continuing the theme of exploring pastures new, there's around Mallaig too with some introductory possibilities from Morar to gain a sense of what lies about there; it is remote country too, replete with possibilities around Loch Morar and Loch Arkaig for the more adventurous. It's been a few years since I ventured around by these parts while en route from Skye to Oban and the only stops were Mallaig and Glenfinnan. With the options already described and others like Knoydart and the Small Isles within reach, it is perhaps small wonder that the summer excursion that eventually took me to Aviemore could have taken to towards Mallaig instead. In the end, I decided that it was better to try for a time when the weather would have been more suitable for showing off the landscape at its best. Nevertheless, it is good to have such a scheme in mind, for the sake of avoiding indecision if noting else.
Having skirted around it, I suppose that Skye well deserves a longer mention. That walk from Elgol to Sligachan may not get repeated after seeing my surroundings bathed in the sort of light that would have been in order for a week based in Mallaig. However, there are other paths to follow and other parts to savour. Glen Brittle is but one of these and a spot of cycling might be in order given that's how I got about on my first visit to the island. It's never any harm to see new sides to an old favourite.
With all of these, what really hits me is how well peering at old photos can act as a muse as well as being an uplifting distraction from any greyness that is about. It is tempting to say that shortening days curtail the possibilities but I am minded to convert the delights of afar into experiencing what lies on my doorstep. Making use of the latter may set me up for heading further afield yet. In a way, it's amazing what indoor inspiration can achieve so long as you don't spend all of your time lost in the reverie and fail to get out at all. After all, November isn't always murky and December's bright moments should not be missed either.
How far west?
10th November 2009 One thing that is easy to forget is that the British mainland is not aligned along the Greenwich meridian but at an angle to it. One of the effects of that state of affairs is that Edinburgh and Manchester are nearly lined up in a straight north-south line, even if shadowing the coast and finding a line of least resistance through any hill country means that your route gains an elbow and that certainly is the case if you travel by train. Travel on the East Coast Mainline also veers away from what might be termed direct with the result that the journey time between Newcastle and Edinburgh is of the order of 90 minutes.
The cause of this being brought to my attention was my pondering a short getaway that arrests any decline into end of year torpor or, better still, punctuates it so much that it is stopped in its tracks. During these episodes of plotting, eyes are cast over maps and that's when it came home to me that I was next to immediately north of Donegal in Éire when I was on South Uist last year. What really made this plain were the similarities in the predicted weather for Wicklow and Mallaig for the coming weekend when I last looked on Metcheck. However, you do need a longitudinal west/east split to make this kind of thing plain, especially to make it dawn on you for the first time. Of course, a split can be north/south or any other combination too as the weather enjoyed on my trip to the Western Isles was to prove.
As regards my plotting, that is a work in progress so things are in a fluid state. The good thing about that is that I wouldn't be ruling out the possibility of a short Scottish escapade if it makes me an offer. After all, when you fancy rupturing a continuity that feels like a rut, taking yourself somewhere else for a little while is just the thing. If the everyday clutter can be left behind you and there is a chance of a fresh start, it works even better. For me, this is what the long break around Christmas and New Year does every year but once a year can never be enough. In fact, it is for that very reason that I want to disembark for while from the juggernaut that could land me on the doorstep of that much hyped season before I know it. Letting life carry you along is too easy so clearing some space and time to force a restart as well as allowing those batteries to be recharged only can be a good thing.
A continuing internationalisation
31st October 2009 While penning yesterday's missive regarding the forthcoming availability of OSi mapping data from Mapyx, I had little idea of what was in the pipeline from Anquet. Until now, Anquet's established offering in the digital mapping arena was restricted to areas on Great Britain. Unless I missed something, not even Northern Ireland got a look in, while Scotland's islands and even the Isle of Man were very well covered. However, an email from them this morning suggests that will be changing.
Apparently, Anquet is also planning to make OSi 1:50000 digital mapping available as part of a move to include more countries in its portfolio. Quite what is driving this expansion is open to question, but it is an exciting development, whether they are moving into new territorial markets or they are banking on British outdoors lovers fancying a spot of overseas explorations who would like the planning of such escapades to be easier. Whatever the reasoning, they seem to be starting with Éire so let's hope that Northern Ireland isn't forgotten in the rush.
Seeing two mainstays of the British digital mapping market featuring Irish data has to make you wonder what other players like Memory Map or Tracklogs have in hand. After all, if this is due to a push on the part of the OSi, there may be more to come.
Thinking about it now, having Mapyx and Anquet selling OSi 1:50000 Discovery data does follow on from its availability on Geolives since the start of the year. That development may have signalled a break from digital mapping being provided on a country by country basis, and that's no bad thing at all. In fact, things have got a bit more exciting now that it has happened, an unthinkable occurrence in times when paper maps were all that we had.
Unto Yorkshire again
19th October 2009 Outings beget photos and photos can beget ideas for more outings. In recent weeks, I have been sprucing up the Yorkshire Dales photo collection that I have on display for all to see on the web. Many of these were taken on negative film, so new scans of old prints were attempted in order to make more of the results. Back then, I did things with my SLR that I would try to avoid now. Included among these would be a determined attempt at picture making in the middle of a hazy summer day. That's not to say that such conditions would stall play but I'd be more judicious about what I'd record. Whether it is down to the advent of digital capture or not, it does feel like I have developed more of feeling of how a scene before me will come out in a photo. The reason for my suspecting the effect of technological progress is that I may spend longer looking at my photos now than was the case when I exclusively used film. The fact that I am in total control over the entire process in the digital world may have a bearing because making prints from negatives or transparencies involves a certain amount of interpretation on the part of the printer, even if we are not talking about fine art monochrome images. In time, I may get around to adding more new images, but my attention has gone forth to a spot of under the bonnet work on my slide show machinery followed by giving my Isle of Skye photo collection (still under way) the same sort of attention lavished on that for the Yorkshire Dales.
For a few years, I have not been devoting so much attention to the Yorkshire Dales, but that may be finding itself seeing some recompense. Last month saw me out in the midst of the gentle surroundings of lower Wharfedale while last weekend saw me out in some wilder countryside. A circuit from Ingleton saw me both thrilled by limestone pavements, even under duller skies, and immersed in spacious open country. That's never to say that there was no one else about, yet we each could have our own corner for a little while and chilling out was well possible on the moors around Twisleton; there was none of the feelings of being in a cavalcade that entered my mind between Burnsall and Howgill in September. It was a little busier on the way up Ingleborough from Chapel-le-Dale but dropping off in the Ingleton direction wasn't long losing any semblance of crowding though there was little sign of anywhere being overrun. Bunching together became a reality on the steep approach to Ingleborough, but that's always the way so it's never any real trouble so long as you don't rush things and keep an awareness of whoever is about you; we all can share a bit of countryside anyway. The day provided the sort of experience that draws me back time and again and it helps that there is more to explore too. Getting a sunny day to make photos reminiscent of those by a certain Granville Harris would be a bonus.
Photographically, it was a day of digital and film capture. Perhaps perversely, the sun found breaks in the clouds at precisely the moment when my DSLR ran out of electrical juice; being ever ready with a charged battery might have been a help but I only can own up to my own fecklessness. Then, it was over to the world of film to capture the wondrous lighting as I tramped the final miles towards the end of my hike. The instantaneous nature of digital capture may have been missed, but a spot of patience is all that's needed to see how well the results of my endeavours worked out for me and to use a lab that I know to do the business for me. If I had no back up camera, I would have been kicking myself, so this is no problem. In fact, the incident probably justifies my continuing to bring both a DSLR and an FSLR on walking trips, even if there is a weight penalty.
Like the film photos, the full account of Saturday's walk should follow and I need to look at those digital images and charge up that camera. A spare battery might be a sensible purchase, but any excuse for a spot of film photography never can be bad. My recent exploits with old photos in Photoshop Elements using exposure correcting tools like levels, curves, hue/saturation tweaking and shadow/highlight adjustments have shown me that new life can be added to an old photo (hopefully) without overdoing things. Of course, there has to be some potential for decent results to be obtained and you always want to avoid some abomination in keeping with the punch drunk efforts using filters in the 1980's. Having a good sense of what is natural and what isn't has to help, but there's a very fine line between having the right amount of colour saturation and contrast and ending up with a day-glow semi-fluorescent effort; I aim to stay on the right side of that line.
First viewed from afar, then seen up close
26th September 2009 It may be prone to cloudiness around my way lately, yet dry weather has been much of our lot for the last few weeks. Some of that time has seen us visited by bright sunshine more in keeping with an Indian summer. Enjoying that sort of glory can cause the sort of posting hiatus that has visited this blog recently, but there can be other causes too. In my case, autumnal torpor following a bout of seasonal flu is as much to blame as was the diversion of my attention elsewhere. That's not to say that I thoroughly ignored this website because other parts, such as the photo gallery, saw a bit of work. Even so, I'd rather keep new adding things on here too and a few posting ideas are in mind, though there might be a gestation period before anything comes of them.
First on that ideas list is saying a little more on that day spent out among the Pentland Hills while up in Edinburgh a few weeks back. The Festival Fringe may have been coming to an end at the time, but the bank holiday weekend in England, Wales and Northern Ireland only can have helped to send in a few stragglers like myself to Scotland's capital. On the evidence of where I was staying, coach parties were still coming to see the place too.
With a spot of sunshine forecast for the Saturday, I decided to fit in an amble in the midst of Edinburgh's nearest belt of open hill country. However, that was preceded by a walk along Salisbury Crags in Holyrood Park with plenty of camera action in the morning sunshine. From the park, I made my way towards Princes Street and The Royal Mile before rounding Castle Hill to drop onto Lothian Road. It was busy in the sort of way that would have made Chris Townsend yearn for the Cairngorms (I wonder if he considered the Pentland Hills for a breather?).
From Lothian Road, a bus (Lothian Buses' service 10) whisked me off to Bonaly where the lack of people was striking after where I had been. Anyone wanting a respite from Edinburgh's festival frenzy was sure to find it here. My first staging post was Bonaly Country Park, where I picked up the old right of way to Glencorse Reservoir. Until I passed Bonaly Reservoir, I had a good track underfoot all the way, and all I needed to do was look behind me to see that civilisation was not at all far away. After the reservoir, conditions underfoot became boggy in places, and the immersion in hill country became more and more complete as I passed through a section of MOD land. Capelaw Hill was left after me, with Castlelaw Hill replacing it for accompaniment. Other folk may have had the idea as me, but it was no throng.
On the way down to Glencorse, the shapely hills behind the reservoir loomed larger than their 400-600 metre high tops might suggest. While the sun was to become obscured by clouds at times, these hills were to tower above me as I headed west along the shores of both Glencorse Reservoir and Loganlea Reservoir. Tarmac reigned supreme underfoot on this part of my reservoir round, but various escapes by the sun were sufficient to stop me and set a camera into action, totally removing any opportunity for onward progress to become a slog.
The tarmac ran out after Loganlea, and it was back to having solid earth underfoot as I began the stage of the walk that was to round Black Hill. On my way up Green Cleugh, the intoxicating mix of sun, blue skies and shapely hills was so complete that it looked as if it was about to last all day. When it came to choice of route from Green Cleugh, I stuck with a hillier approach to Threipmuir Reservoir. As I gained more height, I began to observe that the earlier pleasantness was but a brief mirage, with surrounding hills beginning to accumulate shower activity. In fact, one shower was to find me as I crossed over a narrow neck of Threipmuir Reservoir to pick up a path that was to take me near Harlaw Reservoir without following its shoreline so closely as to add to my mileage for the day. The only tricky side to this, apart from the light rain, was that my Explorer map made no real attempt to show the path that I was following; its Landranger and Harvey counterparts do better on this point and I can put things together using later Explorer data in Quo. While that left me with a bit of thinking to do, it proved to be no trouble at all as I had a copy of Cicerone's guide to the Pentlands in my pocket anyway. It was that which gave me the idea for the walk, even if I deviated from the suggested route from time to time.
The rain died out as I began to leave Harlaw Reservoir after me to shorten the way to Wester Kinleith. Along the way, I encountered equestrians who took longer to overtake me than I expected. A short stretch of tarmac was to take me past Middle Kinleith on the way to Easter Kinleith where a little more head scratching ensued before I made out the switchback that I need to escape tarmac again. From this point forward, I largely had things to myself and I only miles away from many pondering what festival show they wanted to see that evening. Clubbidean Reservoir and Torduff Reservoir were to be passed before my Pentlands meander was to complete.
You'd think that I had enough walking done by this time, but I truncated my return bus journey to pass on foot old haunts like Bruntsfield Links and the Meadows. After all this, I was more in need of a restful, easy evening than one packed with festival action, so those shows were left to others. It had been excellent use of what turned out to have been the best day of the weekend.
