Category: Long Distance Trails
An uncertain forecast, but a dry day in Teesdale
12th May 2008 This past weekend might be seen as not being that friendly towards hill country hikers with its mix of high temperatures and an ever present threat of torrential downpours with added son et lumière. Apart from a session allotted to the breaking in of my Scarpa ZG10's, my own outdoors activity was non too extensive. As it happened, I just couldn't get myself in the mood for a longer hike. The thundery atmosphere and the heat might have something to do with this lethargy but it also could be due to my having decent walking outings over the previous bank holiday weekend. After a climax, an encore can be too much to ask.
The Mayday weekend might have shared weather uncertainties with that following it but, in many ways, it was a very different affair. For one thing, I managed to make my mind up that I was going for a walk and that was that. I was playing with a multi-day Pennine Way outing but doubts over the weather and personal fitness toned things down a lot. I still experienced a new section of the trail but in a much more manageable fashion: an out and back along the Tees from Middleton-in-Teesdale. Though there was a threat of rain and skies were packed full of light cloud, I was determined to explore a part of England that was hitherto new to me. At times, the sun broke through anyway and all fears of drenching were for naught; it was sunscreen that was needed rather than water proofs.
Getting to Middleton and away is easily described: by train from Macclesfield to Darlington and by bus from there. Returning home simply reversed things. An early morning departure ensured that I was in Teesdale not long after 11:00 and the only concern was a short connection time in Darlington but I made the bus in the nick of time. On the way back, a spot of muddling meant that I missed the 19:34 southbound train and I had to await the 20:14 instead. I still got home but at the same time but retain the lesson that you shouldn't trust your memory too closely: I took the correct turns but at the wrong locations. All got resolved in good time.
The Tees-side walk itself was devoid of such navigational blundering. From Middleton to Low Force, the track of the Pennine Way (which it shares with the Teesdale Way at this point) was quiet as it followed the fast flowing Tees through fields filled with sheep and their lambs. Apart from some ramblers, very few folk were met until around Low Force and High Force. The capacity for dramatic waterworks of the natural variety to attract wider humanity should never be underestimated. The fact that the day was balmy contributed to the attraction of the features in question, as it always does.
I didn't have to go far past High Force for things to quieten down again. However, the pleasing sights of torrents of water spouting over rocks were replaced momentarily by the fruits of some human industrial activity: quarrying. Having passed this, I became conscious of the time that I had, perhaps overly so, and decided to turn back on Bracken Rigg rather than dropping down to Cronkley and Forest-in-Teesdale. I am beginning to notice that I am overcautious with out-and-back treks while throwing some caution to the wind on point-to-point hikes. My visits to Teesdale and Kinlochleven typified the former while my bank holiday wander from Bethesda to Bangor (to be described in a future post) could be seen as being very much of the latter. This is something that I'll be watching, especially for linear walks.
Perambulation over a combination of footpaths and bridleways, some boggy, was to land me at Holwick with the scars looking very impressive, even on a cloudy day. After that, it was back to the Pennine Way and Middleton where I whiled away a relaxing hour before my bus turned up. It was a good relaxing end to an enjoyable day. Thoughts are now turning to future Pennine Way expeditions with a walk from Teesdale to Dufton in the mind. Connecting with Swaledale and Wensleydale to usher forth my progress is yet another proposition. We'll see how that might come to pass...
Avoiding showers along the Welsh border
14th April 2008 For the weak willed, the threat of heavy showers over the past weekend might have been an excuse to stay at home from the outdoors, but dry sunny weather featured more than one would have thought in light of the various forecasts. As for me, I just couldn't rouse up any enthusiasm for going anywhere; I just was in no mood for it. The weekend before couldn't have been more different: after a month of March that was quiet on the hill wandering front for various reasons, a lengthy bout of "man flu" included, I firmly decided that I was going somewhere to get out among hills and an imperfect wasn't going to stop. I was prepared for it.
The destination was to be the hill country near Knighton on the Wales-England border. It was a plan that I attempted to execute last December, but a late train thwarted my designs and I explored the Long Mynd instead. This time, no mistake was made, as I left Macclesfield early in the morning and ended up leaving myself a forty-minute window in Shrewsbury after a train journey involving a change in Wolverhampton. I used that time to go for a walk around the town in damp weather, and I came away impressed with what I saw. In fact, I have made a mental note to make a photographic foray to both Shrewsbury and Oswestry some sunny day when I want something a little different from my usual hill country forays.
I completed my stroll in ample time to catch my train to Knighton and, when I arrived there at around 10:00, I found the place to have taken on the feeling of a ghost town. On the train, there were a goodly number of ramblers and I thought that this might be their destination, but I was to be very wrong: when I did disembark, there were more waiting to depart than what actually arrived. I took my time while ambling through this sleepy agrarian spot and dropped into the Offa's Dyke Centre, a spot nearly as quiet as everywhere else.
In fact, the aforementioned quietness was to pervade the most of my day's wandering. The sky indicated a day that was to be "iffy" on the weather front, but any predictions made based on its initial appearance were to be proved utterly wrong; the only rain encountered was the odd drop, if that at all. Once out of the Offa's Dyke Centre, I made my way north and, within minutes, I was in Shropshire and England was to play host to all of my footfall between then and my return to Knighton. Loosely defined plans are typical of my walking exploits, and this was no different: follow the Offa's Dyke Path north and turn around to return to the train station in time to get home again.
Along the way, I saw very few people and the weather kept getting better as I perambulated over the not so high English hills and looking west was all that was needed if wanted to see their Welsh counterparts across the Teme valley. The lack of stature in the hills didn't make any difference to the effort required to surmount them: a fact borne out by my progress up the not inappropriately named Panpunton Hill after crossing the Teme, a short stroll away from Knighton. From there on to Cwm-sanaham Hill, progress was gentler and serious up and down activity was deferred until the descent from the latter and the subsequent re-ascent.
It was not so far north-east of Llandair Waterdine that I decided that I had gone far enough north for the day and set to following Shropshire's public footpath network proper for a return to base. It was at this time that the cloud cover really started to break up to make up for some superb sunshine as I negotiated my way from field to field, never a strong point of mine. Crossing a minor road, I picked up a clear bridleway along which I continued on my way back to Panpunton Hill, Knighton and home. Everything was going well until confusion struck at a meeting of rights of way, for which nothing on the map seemed to represent where I was. There was only one thing for it: head west until I met the national trail along which I had been hiking earlier. A stone's throw was all it took to get me back to more familiar surroundings, and I am not certain how I ended up where I did, but I am inclined to suspect that a new public footpath may have been set up that the OS do not show on their maps. It's undoubtedly the sort of muddle that makes a GPS receiver very useful for confirming that you aren't going completely mad!
Once back on the Offa's Dyke Path, the journey was unremarkable apart from the descent of Panpunton Hill paining my tired knees. The sun remained out in force as I made my way through Knighton, the place now being more alive than it was earlier, to its train station for the 16:15 to Shrewsbury. With the weather as resplendent as it was, it seemed a pity to leave so early, but I had a good walk lasting more than five hours and the next train would have been at around 21:00 anyway. Nevertheless, I resolved that if the weather stayed as it was, I would stop off in Church Stretton for a quick nip into Carding Mill Valley with the idea of putting my camera to some use. That did happen, and I was leaving when the first of the forecasted "nasty" showers arrived.
From Church Stretton, I took a train to Stockport, although Shrewsbury's looking wonderful in the post shower sunshine had me sorely tempted. I stayed on the train, deciding that a quick run around with my camera (for most of the day, I had been working exclusively with film thanks to my DSLR running down its battery and my lack of foresight for not recharging the thing in time) wouldn't do the place justice anyway. Given that I travel this way regularly, the journey from Stockport to Macclesfield should have been routine, but I have encountered an incident verging on adventure before. This time, I was both lucky and unlucky to meet the first southbound Virgin departure from Manchester since 17:00; I was lucky that it ran on time but unlucky in that it was overcrowded. I inadvertently, and unusually for me, got on in the first class bit and, not realising that it was open to all anyway due to what happened earlier, I made my way to standard class on a very crowded train. If I wasn't on autopilot to an extent and knew more of what was going on, I would have stayed where I was, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty vision, isn't it? Anyway, a ten-minute journey like this is never going to spoil the memory of what was a good and varied outing, and I hope to head down that way again. The possibility of spending more time along the Offa's Dyke Path rears its head too.
Options that come and go
29th March 2008 The options that I have in mind for this post are of the public transport variety. I have noticed that there are years when I visit an area a lot and that is down to number of factors: it might be somewhere new for me to explore and the weather conditions are more favourable there than other places. A window of opportunity for getting there using public transport can be yet another contributor.
After all, public transport options do change over time and not always for the better. One factor that contributes to this is public demand. There have been times when the frequency for bus services has been improved only for it to be cut back again, possibly because of patronage. An example of this that comes to mind is the T3 Trawscambria service that became hourly in 2006 but is as good as two-hourly these days, even if some services extend to and from Chester with Wrexham being the main northern terminus. the trouble with this is that there is the nagging question as to whether enough time was allowed for patronage to build up; that is something that might take a few years rather than twelve months in some cases.
The next thing that crops up in my mind is the loss of a public transport connection and rail-bus connections particularly come to mind. Sunday rail-bus connections in Bangor (in Wales, not NI) or the lack of them have disappointed me in the past. Having the bus leave before the train arrives does sound a bit ridiculous but short connection times are just as useless, especially when you recall how late trains can be.
Then, there regulatory hurdles to be overcome. One that recently came into play was the 50 km limit for local bus services brought into force following an EU directive. That has done for a Sunday Dalesbus service operated by Arriva and introduced changes where there previously were through services. I could see the 555 in the Lake District being hit by this as well. However, I suppose that England and Wales had a better express bus system like Ireland and Scotland, then all of this wouldn't cause any problems.
The route length limitation can be seen as a piece of regulatory madness but there are home grown ones in the U.K. too. One that annoys me a little is the intervention of the Competition Commission in the Scottish bus market following the coming together of Scottish Citylink and Stagecoach's Megabus. Thankfully, a sensible compromise was reached with services on some routes going to Parks of Hamilton and they are agreeing to work with Citylink as regards timetables and ticketing. Otherwise, it could have further fragmented an already fragmented system and is an exhibition of the sort of mindset that could stop us ever getting the joined up transport system that we so desire.
What has brought all of this to mind is the retiming of the Macclesfield-Crewe bus service on Sundays to leave twenty five minutes earlier. I seem to remember that an early departure from Macclesfield on Sundays was a possibility some years back but it has since disappeared for some reason. So, the earlier start for the bus service in question is very much a good thing, even if it means that last one home is earlier too. That earlier first departure restores the option of getting to Shropshire and Mid Wales after its being removed by train retiming. I hope to make good use of this opportunity to explore Shropshire and mid Wales a bit more. Who knows but I may even walk new sections of the Offa's Dyke Path. Not all of the world's going downhill...
Narrowing a gap
28th February 2008 The chance of a few fine February weekends has allowed me to continue my Pennine Way project after what has been a lengthy hiatus. The gap in my northbound progress to Hawes has been between Haworth and Gargrave and it is one that's been nagging at the back of my mind for a while now. It's a section that may be a light workout for the legs in comparison with others, but that means that you are crossing farmland. That introduces field navigation, a practice fraught with opportunities for error due to OS' difficulty in showing the lines of footpaths to the required level of precision and accuracy on their Explorer maps. The same issue affects any attempt to exit any sort of sizeable conurbation into hill country. Waymarking does help but only if it is done properly and I have got the impression that it's not one of North Yorkshire County Council's finer points. In fact, the sight of homemade signs and arrows paint and on stone walls is a little amazing when the role of such interventions is to direct you along what is a major national trail.
If I had taken heed of such amateur signposting, I would probably have avoided heading in the direction of someone's backyard at the start of my walk south from Gargrave a few weekends ago. I was set right when I heard tapping on a window and I was suitably chastened because it was my own curiosity that led me to continue in the wrong way. Getting to Gargrave in the first place was a minor travail with the railway taking the strain for me. I had planned to allow a bit of slack by catching an earlier train from Macclesfield but it got cancelled due to a staff shortage. Nevertheless, everything went as I had hoped, even if the train carrying me from Manchester to Leeds got crowded by ramblers at Dewsbury; they seemed to have headed off somewhere else because Gargrave was quiet and I starting out, which might have been just as well...
Once I had got onto the PW, it was very much a case of paying attention as I plied my way. Finding the initial sign in Gargrave itself required patience and the same quality was much required as I made my way from field to field until reaching the canal at East Marton. After following the canal for a short while, it was back to more careful field crossing until I reached Thornton-in-Craven. I may have veered slightly off route at times, but things on the navigational side were keeping up. After Thornton though, a spot of navigational bumbling struck around Brown House Farm before I got back on track again. After my thankfully unobserved fumbling, moorland began its encounter as I headed up and over Elslack Moor before more field walking until I reached Lothersdale, a pretty spot. I did have designs on continuing a bit further along the PW before returning to civilisation, but navigation looked uncertain at that hour of the day and I chose an alternative route that mixed footpaths and roads until I met up with a bus stop near Lumb Mill Bridge from where I took a bus to Keighley and it was all rail travel until I got home.
There was a gap between Lothersdale and Haworth to be closed and it wouldn't have received attention on the following weekend were it not for the fact that I couldn't muster up enough energy for a visit to Borrowdale in Cumbria on the Saturday. The fine weather was prodding my conscience, so a trip to Haworth was in order for the Sunday. The journey there involved: a bus to Manchester, a train to Hebden Bridge and a bus to Haworth. From Haworth, I got to Ponden Reservoir over public footpaths and roads in just over an hour, not very fast for some but I was satisfied. The day was glorious and icy conditions remained in places where the sun couldn't work its magic. The walking around the reservoir was easy and uneventful, but an energetic climb up and over Ickornshaw was soon to great me. Steady progress saw me up onto the moor where an observant eye kept me on track. The way down to Ickornshaw can cause confusion because of its many twists and turns with some homemade signposting in evidence; the waymarking people could do with visiting these parts. The good people of Ickornshaw have resorted to painting arrows on stone walls to keep weary walkers on track but I was to potter through to Cowling for a bus to Keighley and a railway journey back home.
The remaining piece between Ickornshaw and Lothersdale still beckons, but that is another opportunity for exploring these parts rather than something maddening. The section itself is a reasonably short one, so further walking can be added to see these parts from another angle. It's good to see more possibilities...
Trampling snow on the edge of the Cheviots
12th February 2008 My trip reports seem to taking longer to appear here than I might like so here's a report of a visit that I made to Northumberland at the start of the month. The fine weather coaxed me out this past weekend too but there should be more on those activities to follow, hopefully later this week. Anyway, back to that trip up north...
February was beginning with a very promising outlook for snow and I was very tempted by the prospect. Having the whole weekend free for the first time in a while placed things into a sharper focus. However, the weather warnings that abounded might have tempered those thoughts but for a certain degree of cynicism regarding Met Office weather warnings. I shouldn't be getting the impression that the slightest suggestion of adverse weather results in the issuing of warnings for areas with even the slightest chance of disruption but that's what has been happening. I don't doubt that warnings need to be issued but I'd rather it if the precision was a bit better than what seems to be the case at the moment; then you can treat them with the attention that they should command.
Once I make my mind up that I am going away, I then decide on the destination. Thoughts of snow covered slopes put the idea of heading to Fort William on the the Caledonian Sleeper into my mind. Even with my scepticism of weather warnings, thoughts of marching into the face of a blizzard didn't appeal to me given my lack of experience of snowy conditions. So the Scottish escapade was placed on hold and I cast my eye over the weather map of the U.K. and that turned up Northumberland as an alternative. In particular, the hills near Wooler sounded an enticing proposition. True, I could have hugged the coast and avoided any difficulties but the prospect of trampling the white stuff wasn't at all discouraging.
With the destination decided, it was then a matter of getting there. Friday night saw Macclesfield getting a dusting of snow so I crunched my way to the train station for the first departure of the day for Manchester; this was the right kind of snow: crunchy, grippy and not icy and/or slushy. A change in Piccadilly got onto the train that was to take me to York and there plenty of sightings of snowy moorland on the way to Leeds. However, there was rather too much time to enjoy what looking outside since my train got stuck behind a late local stopping service and a lady suffered a loss/theft onboard (hope everything worked out OK for her since, any delay that I suffered was a minor problem in comparison). The result was that I missed my connection in a non too snowy York and arrived in Berwick-upon-Tweed an hour later than planned. There was no snow in Berwick either but I was to be satisfied that I still continued to Wooler by bus anyway: the white stuff was there for all to see on the hills, even if it had retreated from the lower ground.
I had been in Wooler once before, in September 2006, and I put my previous trip to use on arrival and avoided any dawdling before getting to the hills. The road to Wooler Common retained its dusting of snow and even was icy in places so rushing was not a good option. I didn't and still made my way onto St. Cuthbert's Way in good time to reach the snow after passing through some woodland. The landscape up high was well blanketed so some navigational confusion could be forgiven. However, the presence of good tracks and my having been hereabouts before served me well as I added to my experience of snowy conditions. Like my previous visit, I could only proceed so far before turning back and the turning point this time was further on than the last time. It was something of wrench to tear myself away from the quality Views west towards the Cheviot but I needed to return to civilisation.
A circular walk was in mind but my plans were changed by that late train. For a time, it looked as if my route was about to be an out and back affair until the idea of taking a diversion around by Humbleton came to mind. It was a choice that I was glad to have made as, for some reason, I started to proceed with childish abandon as my boots sank into several inches of powder dry snow. The snow had been dry and hospitable for all of my walk but this episode seems to linger in the memory. It wasn't as if I didn't enjoy the outing and I have thoughts of returning, always a good thing. Maybe, a walk from Wooler to Kirk Yetholm might be in order? Sounds good to me.
