Outdoor Discoveries

Traipsing through two countries and three counties

The start of a new year often is a time for reflection on what has gone before as much as pondering the prospects of a year to come. In this, 2018 was no different and I was in the middle of a career break as well, so the thinking turned to my next career moves and the choices that I arrived at in January 2018 continue to pervade more than two years later.

In fact, they affected the start of this year with another work break that allowed the taking of stock in light of then seemingly pervasive threats. Throughout this, I also got to wonder about future transatlantic excursions as a form of distraction. Many do love planning but you need to not have an intrusive global event to make it happen. So all those dreams from January and February of this year are placed on hold.

Thankfully, it was only my own speed of inquiry and assessment that forestalled any overseas travel dreams in 2018. Other plans could be made to happen in a piecemeal if imperfect manner. What I needed to do is get over the residual stresses caused by what needed doing during 2016. At least, I did not have a global pandemic back and I count myself very fortunate for that.

Returning to 2018 though, it was not as if all the required introspection ruled out day trips quiet like the activities or the weather of the first two months of this year. In fact, a few of those took me to Wales and the principality had not seen my making trips there for quite a while if I recall correctly. The sequence of Welsh outings actually began before Christmas 2017 when I embarked on a trip through the western end of the Brecon Beacons National Park. That took me through Abergavenny and Brecon as far as Neath before I continued my way home. In time, the possibility of exploring another quiet part of Wales may come to something.

My first Welsh excursion of 2018 actually took me to Cardiff, a city that I have long neglected, and the outing was repeated in part on the Spring Bank Holiday of 2019. Then, there may have been a Spice Girls reunion concert but what intruded on my ambling more were posses of cyclists going along multi-use trails. Sunshine pervaded on both visits but thoughts of basing myself in Cardiff for a few days to explore the countryside within its vicinity retain their appeal. While I might do some cycling of my own too, I do intend to leave better space for walkers, especially around the delightful Bute Park and along the banks of the River Taff.

So far, what I am talking about is a spot of reconnaissance that may lead to future trips and there is one other excursion in January 2018 that deserves a mention before the main trip report and it leads easily into it. That took me from Macclesfield to Aberystwyth via Shrewsbury and Llangurig. Not only did that take me past Pumlumon Fawr by bus, but the stopover at Llangurig also allowed some muddy walking along part of the Wye Valley Walk. What I really was exploring though were the logistics of getting near Pumlumon Fawr for an ascent of one of the highest hills in mid-Wales. That left me with the framework for a scheme that either would use Aberystwyth as a base or involve a bivvy on the side of the hill, depending on how brave I feel.

The Wye and Severn rivers both rise on Pumlumon Fawr, yet that was not where my Welsh wandering took me next. It may have featured the same River Wye, but this was a circular ramble with Monmouth at its starting and ending points. In truth, I also fancy a visit to Tintern Abbey but remains outstanding too and the idea for the Monmouth excursion lay in my mind for quite a while before it happened.

Calling the route a circular one does much to hide its actual complexity with some of that arising from serendipity. At my arrival in Monmouth, all that was yet unknown as I passed through it heart with older buildings like those of its church and its independent school adding interest along the way. The school’s students were going hither and thither in their boisterous ways and, fancying an air of greater peace, I left them to those to reach the River Wye.

There, I met up with the Wye Valley Walk that was to convey me along the Welsh side of the river; Offa’s Dyke Path also passed hereabouts, but that was not part of my designs since I was bound for Symonds Yat. With the hubbub of the A40 in the background, I relished the sunny morning as much as I could. Apart perhaps from the likes of St. Peter’s Church near Dixton, those early stages were not to be peppered with so much in the way of human construction.

Forested hills lay to my right and in front of me as I went and it was around these that I was to spend much of my time. Some were to be more easily named than others, but that did not detain my thinking as I reached the point where the river parted from the busy motorised thoroughfare. Beyond Wyastone Leys, my surrounding were to become much quieter and much now forested.

The forested route may have limited opportunities for photography but I was soon enough at The Biblins where I would cross the Wye and encounter a greater human presence. Some were walking and others cycling, but there was enough room for all of us and I still recall having the place to myself at times.

It was afternoon by the time that I reached the eastern part of Symonds Yat. Not only had the trail led me onto tarmac but I had crossed into England and was in Herefordshire. The road and any traffic that was passing along it was left behind to round Huntsham Hill and return through Elliot’s Wood. What became clear was how late in the afternoon it was getting so I was anxious to keep going and photographic efforts stopped.

After reaching a road again, I then left it to go through Mailscot Wood and into both Gloucestershire and part of the Forest of Dean. With the road to Christchurch never far away, I was lured along a trail nearly as far as Hillersland before I turned in the direction of the River Wye again. That felt longer than was ideal given how late it was in the shortness of a January day.

Soon enough though, I was back on the route of the Wye Valley Walk and heading towards Monmouth again. However, I decided against crossing the river until I reached the Wye Bridge in Monmouth, so following Route 423 of the National Cycle Network. By now I was back in Wales and soon enough reached a section of the railway that once connected Monmouth and Symonds Yat. That made navigation less of a concern as the hours of daylight faded.

Eventually, the gloaming would turn into full darkness and torch-lit walking along tarmac returned me to Monmouth, where I had plenty of time to find the bus terminus that I had not used on my arrival. Tintern was passed in darkness on the way home but that fact did nothing to spoil the satisfying day out. In fact, it remains a useful excuse for returning to a delightful part of Wales.

Travel Arrangements

Train journey from Macclesfield to Hereford with a change at Stockport, followed by bus travel from Hereford to Monmouth using service 36. Bus journey from Monmouth to Chepstow using service 69 followed by train travel from there back to Macclesfield with a change in Birmingham New Street.

Confinement

Looking back on last year now, it strikes me just how I never went walking the countryside as much as I might have done. However, there were preoccupations weighing on my mind. Ongoing political events were among them but a then forthcoming upheaval in my working life was a more pronounced concern. The latter continued into this year but was sorted in March though it had limited excursions in January as much as the weather did likewise in February.

Whatever tricky challenges I had imagined for 2020, they became nothing compared to a new viral disease that had sent us all into lockdown. In my case, it also brought added tension that got the better of me in April. Chats with clinicians have helped and I am moving beyond the episode now thanks to clarification of thinking as much as daily relaxation exercises.

Throughout all of this, I ventured out of doors every day for physical exercise in the locality. Some days, I have contented myself with local parks (Riverside, Victoria, South and West) but my horizons have expanded on other ones. As well as walking, I have returned to cycling too in an effort to make the current time feel less confining. While fairer weather and the time of year add encouragement, it also is amazing how a level of restriction causes you to make more use of what you have and that applies to me too.

All the while, I have been seeking our quieter places for an added sense of relaxation. Generally, I would have sought solitude anyway but social distancing is another motivation. Living in Macclesfield, I am fortunate to have nearby hill country into which I can escape. Of course, others can have similar ideas and that is why I limit travel along both the Macclesfield Canal and the Middlewood Way.

Tegg’s Nose and Croker Hill have seen encounters along with a variety of local places like Henbury, Gawsworth, Bollington, Prestbury, Rainow, Siddington, Marton, Alderley Edge, Chelford, North Rode and Bosley. The latter list sounds fairly extensive in its disorderly arrangement but it is good to have such surrounding countryside when so many are staying close to home.

Some places like Henbury can be busier that might be expected so it is taking some time to learn how to ensure social distancing is ever improving. Cutting down on touching of surfaces and bringing hand sanitiser on an outing is part of the way of things at the moment though there have been little moral boosters as well.

It might any some but the pervasive of sunny days is a blessing too and I have been making photos as I go. It is amazing what new sights you can find on a local patch. For instance, Macclesfield’s South Park offers views of Shutlingsloe and Croker Hill that add to a sunny evening stroll. There are new rights of way to find and travel as well as amenities like Bosley Reservoir. It all helps to lift a mood and can grant you a quiet relaxing cycling or stroll if you get things right with timing. Going out when others are not inspired to do the same remains a possibility as much as finding where they have not been inspired to go.

Revisiting Calderdale after a long absence

2007 became a year that was dominated by walking sections of long-distance trails like the Pennine Way. That in turn led me to Calderdale during the spring of that year. Two trips stand out for me with the first being near the start of February and the second near the start of March. Since those, I hardly have explored the area with other places gaining my attention.

This is a part of the world laden with so many public rights of way that it is difficult to pick out a few to facilitate some wandering. Maybe it is better to ramble from one to another in a more haphazard way and civilisation is ever at hand in the valley below the moors in any case. That sort of approach lay in the background as I plied my circuitous way from Hebden Bridge to Todmorden during the autumn of 2017.

It was a sunny if chilly Friday so it was little surprise to see others wandering about as well. Even so, I was about to find plenty of those quieter interludes that I relish so much. The advantage of having many paths to follow is that people can spread out everywhere. Some of these rights of way were not as clear or as well signed as others, but there was no conflict with landowners either.

There may have been a problem with train services going east from Hebden Bridge but it did little to delay my arrival and was soon forgotten as I scaled the steep slopes to reach the moors in the autumn sunshine. Because of all the path options, that also meant correcting a wrong turning and I got to wondering if having a GPS receiver with me might have been better. These days, the OS app on my phone would have been enough to put me right but that lay in the future back then.

The constant sunshine and the multitude of quieter places meant that I could navigate from right of way to right of way in peace and with ample time for ensuring that I was going in the right direction. Some of these followed clear tracks while others took me straight across boggy ground. Along the way, I took in views towards Heptonstall and Mytholmroyd though any sights of Hebden Bridge were lost in the steep-sided cleft of Calderdale. On any hike, some views are left behind you as you proceed towards others.

My eventual destination was Stoodley Pike and getting there meant passage along part of the Pennine Way, so the direction of travel was easy to follow at this point even if the air was chilly enough for me not to tarry for too long. Cloud may have started to fill the sky, but any disruption of sunshine was momentary so I started on my way towards Todmorden. That took me down a steep incline using part of the Calderdale Way to Mankinholes and Lumbutts from where a mixture of road walking and footpath rambling got me to my final destination in ample time for the train journey home again after what had been a satisfying stroll with an added element of problem-solving.

Travel Arrangements

Train journey from Macclesfield to Hebden Bridge followed by a train journey from Todmorden to Macclesfield.

A busy spring

The continuing non-availability of Northern train services on Saturdays due to industrial action became such a source of personal confinement that their restoration produced such a dramatic effect. From February until now, I have been away most weekends, making use of the increased opportunities for train travel. The promising weather helped too, even if it meant that water supplies were not getting replenished as required after last summer’s extended spell of hot and dry weather.

The result was that Yorkshire got a lot of attention throughout February and March. It started with a visit to the North York Moors on a sunny day in February that felt more like summer than the actual time of year. Roseberry Topping was revisited, as well as nearby hills, as I traced out part of the Cleveland Way on a circuit centred on Great Ayton’s Train station.

Other circuits were followed by train as dictated by the extent of day ranger ticket areas. Two of these took me between Leeds and Carlisle, so it might have been inevitable that I ended up getting ideas for walking outings as a result. The departure point for such attentions was Settle, since I had not passed Attermire Scar or visited Malham and its nearby tarn for far too long. Sunshine may not have been in ample supply through my walking rounds, so another trip to Malham Cove cannot be ruled out, and it could see me going to Skipton on foot as well. There were two outings in total, and there already is another in mind.

It has been a spring full of city visitations, too. In the north of England, the tally included Newcastle, Leeds and Sheffield and Scottish cities like Edinburgh and Stirling got their share of attention too and there even was a trip to Cardiff for some wandering by the River Taff. More will be written about these below, while Newcastle saw more wandering than other northern cities as I pottered along by the River Tyne on the way to Wallend using part of Hadrian’s Wall Path. That again was a quieter stroll, and there was much to savour on a journey from a city centre to greener parts of its suburbs.

An elongated Easter weekend allowed for a longer stay in Edinburgh that has been in mind for some time, and there was a truncated effort in 2017. 2019 saw no such intrusions, so I was there from Holy Thursday through to Easter Tuesday as planned. That allowed for a lot of city rambling, and there were two visits to Linlithgow. Hill wandering featured too, and days were spent among the Pentland Hills and doing a round of the hills encircling Glen Sax. Along came reminisces and silly daydreams entered my mind, but the time spent around a city where I spent part of my university years also became a chance to deal with any episodes of unfulfilled promise that returned to haunt me.

When I moved away from Edinburgh in 2000, there may have been an element of unfinished business that drew me back again and again to somewhere for which I still hold much affection. The 2019 version of the same was a suboptimally composed photo on Calton Hill, so I returned on the Mayday bank holiday weekend to set that to rights. Other sights like the city’s botanic gardens and Corstorphine Hill Local Nature Reserve were frequented too, and the latter featured on another visit during the following weekend.

Though I was bound for Stirling, a stopover in Edinburgh did allow me to revisit The Royal Mile and Corstorphine Hill in good sunshine for the sake of a little closure of what was becoming like an Edinburgh trilogy. Stirling saw plenty of sauntering with photographic pursuits in mind, but the prospect of a walk among the nearby Ochil Hills remains outstanding, so that could be another excuse to go back up there again.

After all those weekend forays elsewhere, it now feels as if some quiet time at home is in order, and that pervaded the Spring Bank Holiday weekend aside from the aforementioned day trip to Cardiff. Others making the same journey had the attendance of a Spice Girls concert in mind, but designs were far more demure as I avoided bands of cyclists to amble by the River Taff to take in the spring foliage on trees around Bute Park and Llandaff on a sunny afternoon that could not be enjoyed further north, such was the available weather. The summer awaits, so only when that arrives will its roaming be revealed.

Rewards for a reluctant departure

It took until July 2009 for me to make a first visit to the Isle of Man and that was a rain-drenched day sailing. May 2010 saw me spend a bank holiday weekend on the island when I took in sections of its coastal walk Raad ny Foillan or the Way of the Gull. That also was the pervading theme for a subsequent trip in July 2011. Since then though, I ended up leaving the island alone until April 2017 when I was lured there early in a springtime sabbatical from work. It is that which I am recalling here.

Departure

The first week of my sabbatical was somewhat relished as I spent it on sorting out Irish affairs together with a series of computer upgrades. It was during these that I plotted a Manx revisitation. As I approached the weekend, a certain reduction in enthusiasm came upon me and I opted for a Friday evening sailing once I cleared my arrival time with my hotel. That was just as well given that more Irish business emerged before I departed for Liverpool.

Once in Liverpool, there was a dash on foot from Lime Street train station to Albert Dock in around twenty minutes. As I did so, I passed those in the city for the weekend of the Grand National horse race at Aintree. Others intending to travel on the day itself would have to contend with train staff being on strike.

Having got on the boat on time, I enjoyed the evening light as the ship plied the Mersey on its way from Liverpool with only my luggage as an encumbrance; in hindsight, I should have checked in some of it into the hold, a lesson that I learned for the return sailing. Everything looked enhanced so it almost took the fall of darkness itself to get me inside to get some food in advance of arriving in Douglas. Once there, it was a direct walk to my lodgings for the weekend, made without further ado.

An Improving Day

It must not have taken much to organise myself for I was in Laxey soon enough after getting there by bus. Some food was acquired in advance of my hike and I took the chance of pottering as far as the local train station, served by electric trams from Ramsey, Douglas and the top of Snaefell itself. Any temptation posed by a ride top the top of my objective was dispelled and I set off there on foot.

My course took me along Glen Mooar towards Agneash with Laxey Wheel to be seen across the valley. The skies were laden with clouds at this point, so one might have wondered at my resolve. From Agneash, I went east for a while to pick up a track that would take me past such hilltops as Slieau Ruy, Slieau Ouyr and Slieau Lhean.

Those tops were partly obscured by low cloud, but this started to break up as I continued west until there scarcely was any trace of it at all. The only photographic problem then was the flat light that can be got on a day early in April and haze that seemed as if coming from drying out hills. Even so, my surroundings continued to delight me and that was to endure for the rest of the day.

Passing Cragh Ouyr, dropped me down to the A18. The track disintegrated on the ever more boggy terrain but you can expect such things on a springtime stroll like the one that I was undertaking. A rest stop was taken by the roadside before I took advantage of ramblage rights (think right to roam, Manx style) to make a direct ascent of Snaefell’s steep north-eastern slopes.

Nearer the top, the gradients relented and I was to potter about a flat-topped summit littered with two masts, a train station and a restaurant. The bitter breeze was not so welcoming, yet any temptation posed by the restaurant was resisted and I began my way down with views over Sulby Reservoir and other such sights. The Manx island top had been visited.

My descent returned me to the A18 and the road was quiet so I walked along it in preference to the nearby ramblage or open access land because of tiring limbs. Apparently, the lack of traffic was caused by a road closure for repairs as an enquiry from a passing cyclist demonstrated to me.

At Windy Corner, I left the A18 to take the track down to Glen Roy with Slieau Lhoist to the immediate south of me. My recollections of the track have stretched it beyond what appears on a map but I arrived at a narrow lane being used by some motorised traffic. Nevertheless, I headed north along the road to brave up and down crossings of various streams before I was being led east again. A path through Axnfell Plantation was rejected in favour of the more direct way to Laxey that I was following.

Having overlooked it earlier in the day, I decided to pay a visit to the iconic Laxey Wheel. This old mine water pump looked better in the evening sunshine than in the morning dullness so I tarried a while before returning to Laxey for some food and the bus back to Douglas.

Better than Predicted

The forecast suggested otherwise but Sunday brought some decent weather before rain finally arrived in the evening. By then, I was back in Douglas so it was far from being an irritation. After the previous day’s exertions, some lighter activity was in order and matters were needing attention before I headed off for an excursion in any case. This was not going to be a day that brought disappointment.

Inspired by it being cloudy by the time that I reached the place on a walk from Port Erin in July 2011, I decided that a longer visit to Castletown was in order. Handily, it remained sunny for much of the time that I was so some photography was allowed before the arrival of cloudier skies put a stop to such endeavours. Thus, I made up for any shortfall from my previous encounter with the place.

Having pottered about Castletown while making some photos of what was there, I decided to go further afield and retraced more of my steps from July 2011. Though without a map because of low expectations, my memory more than compensated, and useful footpath signs filled in any gaps as I wandered along a circuit that took in Scarlett Point with views of Castletown Bay and Bay ny Carrickey to be savoured in addition to those of the coastline along which I passed.

On arriving back in Castleton, I was tempted to see the inside of the castle at its heart before returning to Douglas. If I recall correctly, this was late in the working day for Manx Heritage but I go my fill before returning to Douglas for the evening. The arrival of rain did not intrude for I was indoors by then and it passed quickly enough for a saunter alongside Douglas Bay until I came to the end of the promenade near Onchan. There, I retraced my steps and saw no sign of the Mormon missionaries that I had passed on the outbound stretch of my stroll. On reaching my hotel, I retired for one more night on the Isle of Man.

Some More Strolling

July 2011 had not finished with inspiring me and there was time for more exploration before my afternoon sailing to Liverpool. The midday deadline for booking out from the hotel allowed for some unladen sauntering with my camera. To start, I retraced some steps from the evening before and then pottered around by Onchan Pleasure Park before spending some time in Summerhill Glen. All that wiled away the time until my baggage needed retrieval for further travel.

Having to pull a trolley case after me did nothing to stop further wanderings before my time of departure. These led me to another vantage point that I last explored on a rainy evening in July 2011. Thus, I ended up around Douglas Head and the start of the Marine Drive, another stretch of Raad ny Foillan that I had surveyed on that evening in 2011. Better weather made for more photography and hopefully will mean better memories as well.

In summary, my 2017 sojourn on Manx shores was drier than its 2011 forbear. It also meant that when I returned to the ferry terminal and boarded the ferry, I could stay outside to sample more sunlit views could be savoured with the weather remaining pleasant all the way to Liverpool.

Much like Hamish McInnes in a recent film, I find that photos rekindle recollections. It means that vague recollections of rain showers on that Monday morning in April 2017 are just that. Much was gained and that was just as well with where life went next.

Travel Arrangements

Return train journey between Macclesfield and Liverpool. Return ferry crossing between Liverpool and Douglas. Return bus journeys between Douglas and Laxey and between Douglas and Castletown.