Category: Trip Reports
Combining old ways around Barmouth
11th December 2022 2022 has turned out to be a very dry year, which probably has helped with my explorations of parts of Ireland. While we could not imagine it at the time, it has come even drier than 2018, a year that then was being compared to 1976. One June evening, when I went around by Sutton Reservoir, I was stunned by how empty it looked. It may have meant that there was no fishing to be had, but that left its banks emptier for strollers like me.
This past summer also had oppressively warm spells. One in July was not only record-breaking, but also oppressive in the extreme for many of us. For others, it was life-threatening, and I was happy to see temperatures cool afterwards. If I was brave enough, this might have been a good time to try camping or bivvying outside somewhere if it was not too hot to walk; it certainly was virtually impossible to work inside. Another spell arrived in August during my holiday in Ireland and got much hotter after I came home, even if temperatures did stay cooler than they were during the July spell.
In the past, I have written that hot weather is not good hiking weather, yet I have gone out walking in higher temperatures. Much of 2018 was warm, sunny and dry until things got wetter at the end of July. Before that, there was a lot of hot weather. Near the start of the month, I headed to Edinburgh for a day spent around Cramond and the city centre. Shady places were well appreciated whenever I passed through them. Normally, I have mixed feelings about tree cover, but they were set aside in the heat.
The continuation of the heat did nothing to keep me from heading to Wales more than once. The first of these took me to Barmouth, from where I undertook a circular hike that combined a route that I did in May 2005 with one done in November 2014. You could see from the landscape that the warm, dry weather was taking its toll. Vegetation looked dessicated in places, and heat haze bedevilled any photography.
What I have needed to piece together is my route because it slipped from my memory. Even with photos, this has been challenging to work out, much like the places featured into the photos themselves. This is complex ground, with passes getting names instead of hill tops; you can see what was a priority for the locals in older times. One thing cannot be contested, though: the sea is near at hand and added to any views once the right vantage point was reached.
The Cambrian Way has made it onto modern OS maps, and my early wandering either followed or shadowed it, a major change from the days when publicity was curtailed by worries on the part of mountain rescue volunteers. This was the route that I used to ascend steep slopes before passing Dinas Oleu and Garn. The Cambrian Way was left after me for a while as I went around by Gellfawr, Ffridd y Craig and Bwlch y Llan. This was when the sea views opened up for me, though the hills of the Llŷn peninsula were lost in the haze.
Once over Bwlch y Llan and across the route of the Cambrian Way, different views opened before me. Some of these were just as compromised by heat haze as the aforementioned sea views. That included anything situated to the south of where I was, like Cadair Idris and its immediate surroundings. Other hills like Craig y Grut and Diffwys were not so affected, and also occupied my senses as I made my way towards the Cerrig Arthur Stone Circle. This was something that I wanted to visit again for photographic purposes, even if the time of year and the time of day were not the best for what I wanted to achieve. Another visit in May might not be such a bad idea.
My next staging post was the Panorama walk, and memory haze again affects my recollection of the route. There are a few things that stick for me, though. One was a meeting with overly intrusive dogs around Cutiau, while another was the effect the afternoon was having on my energy levels. At least the shade offered by tree cover helped with avoiding the sun as I continued along the lane, and arrival at the Panorama Walk easily punctuated the way back to Barmouth. There was time to dally in the presence of entrancing views before setting off again.
Leaving the environs of the Panorama Walk meant leaving tree cover behind as I went on via Gorllwyn. Barmouth was reached soon enough and with time to spare before my next train. That allowed for some strolling along the shore, taking in views of Barmouth Bridge and what lay beyond it to the east. It was a good end to a walk with its share of tests and delights; there were no regrets.
Travel Arrangements
Return train journey from Macclesfield to Barmouth with a change in Wolverhampton.
Grey at the start and at the end, lots of brightness otherwise
9th December 2022 The trouble with trip reports is that they can descend to being a direct factful recollection of a route followed on a day hike. That may explain partly why I have been tardy with sharing these, but the lockdown period of the pandemic has had its impact as well. Sometimes, it works best to leave things a while so that their associated emotional intensity wanes. The vantage point at the time of writing matters too; when there is nothing much happening in one's life, it can result in uninspired scribblings.
This is being written in a time of tumult, when looking back on the past can offer a brief diversion from a life beset by strikes, wars, ongoing works and increasing costs of living. Public transport is not as dependable as it once was, so getting into the countryside now involves a mix of patience and creativity, unless you have your own transport. In fact, many will rely only on their own resources when others appear to be letting them down.
When I went to Shropshire in February 2018, none of this lay in my mind. Then, I was on a career break and contemplating my next career moves. This was a matter of rest, healing and reflection after a few years of upheaval, bereavement and legal works that wore me out more than I had realised. Only later did I learn how caffeine consumption covers up a lot of this weariness.
The prospects for a sunny day out did not look good when I arrived in Church Stretton. Skies were grey and gloomy, and there was a hint of drizzle in the air. None of this deflected me from heading for Carding Mill Valley, and my first encounter with this part of Shropshire may have been on a grey, cold December Sunday, assuming that my memory is not failing me.
Shropshire's hills may be low in stature, but many of the ascents and descents are steep and joint-testing. Thus, there was quite a pull to get into the Carding Mill Valley, and it got tougher on the way up Mott's Road. This did nothing to deter others who were going the same way, persisting as I was.
In time, gradients eased and people peeled off on my going onto a bridleway leading me towards the Port Way. Instead of continuing on towards Woolstaston, I turned left towards the Betchcott Hills. Around there, clouds broke overhead to give more hope for the rest of the day. Clouds were still going to obstruct the sun at times, but there were photographic opportunities to come too.
Farm tracks were what was going to convey me across the Betchcott Hills to Wilderley Hill. Until there, navigation was a simple affair. Near Thresholds, things became a bit less clear, so my route finding was not as smooth as I might have liked on someone else's land. The size of the field meant that it probably was ideal for map and compass work, but I found my way without any untoward encounter or any exchange of cross words.
After becoming more confident about where I was going around Cothercott Hill, views of the Stiperstones opened up before me. There was a catch though because there was a stiff descent down to the road near New Leasowes Farm. Some of the going was muddy, too, especially as I neared the road. From there, I went around by Leasowes Bank Farm by byroad and farm track until I met with another lane.
While I fancied cutting the amount of road walking by following a right of way that lead through Hollies Farm, this did not look like such a friendly option even if it was part of the Shropshire Way. Going through farmyards never appeals that much to me anyway, so I opted to walk the quiet road instead while marvelling at how many larger vehicles were travelling along the one linking Stedment and Stiperstones. The surrounding countryside appealed to me too, which lessened the length of the journey for me.
Near Stedment, I turned right to close in on the Stiperstones ridge. On the final approaches to that turning, I noted how old my paper map was. There was an entire farmyard missing from it, so it was time for a replacement. Given that I was backed up by the Ordnance Survey app on my phone, there was no chance of a wrong turn based on old information. A new paper map was acquired soon afterwards.
Gaining height meant opening up more views of what lay about me. If there was more traffic on the road crossing the Stiperstones than what I saw earlier, it largely is lost to my recollection now. What I do remember is seeing a tractor being used to put out winter feeding to otherwise grazing sheep. Seeing the size of it caused me to remark to myself how large tractors had become these days compared to what they were when I was growing up on an Irish dairy farm.
Since it was half-term time and I may have seen more people about because of that, I chose to overshoot the obvious way up to the top of the Stiperstones ridge in favour of a quieter approach. That meant that a father could ask me about a good way up there for kids with trainers. As I often find myself doing, the answer included perhaps vaguer directions than I might have liked to give. The way that I was going might have been one suggestion, but I directed them to where I had deliberately overshot. In any case, I was not seeking company and my line may have been too muddy for them anyway. Not everyone goes out in the countryside equipped for what they can meet; there was a car park and visitor centre not far away, which explains the encounter we had.
My way towards Manstone Rock was the quieter one, and I relished both that and the well sunlit views that going that way offered. In time, I was to join the main track, which was surfaced in a better way for trainer travel, so my instincts had been the rights for that family who I met earlier. The surface may have uneven, but it was not muddy like what I had traipsed. These rocky outcrops probably fascinate kids anyway, since many would clamber onto them. That certainly was what was happening to one concerned mother who was having her patience tested by her boisterous boys around the trig point on Manstone Rock. Quite why Ordnance Survey surveyors placed the trig point upon such a difficult to reach site is beyond me. What is equally beyond my understanding is how they got their heavy equipment onto the thing afterwards. The sighting of these things can amaze.
My own desire was to get back a sense of grater calm. Beyond the Devil's Chair, that really proved to be the case, and I relished this in the late evening sunshine. However, I did not get it all to myself on the way to Snailbeach. Still, I managed to get myself as much solitude as I could by veering away from my preferred route, and the final descent was a steep one.
My heart sinks a little whenever I see a large rambling group out on perambulations. They take up a lot of space if anyone needs to pass them, and I wonder just how present one can be in a scenic spot when chatting with others, as they often do. It also prompts the following question in my mind: can groups like these just get too big to be in the countryside? We are social animals, though, so I can see the attraction this holds for many, and they are often friendly to more solitary creatures like me.
Once I reached Snailbeach, I saw the minibus that was awaiting them, for this was an organised outing. They reached it while I was awaiting my bus to Shrewsbury, and one said to me that they thought I knew my way down. In reality, I only was finding my way on the go, as it is with so many things in life. They left before I did, and I then wondered if my bus would show up, or if I would need to consider later alternatives, possibly from elsewhere. As I continued my vigil, rain arrived, but this was no dampener on my spirits given the day that I had enjoyed. The bus came too, and I started on my return home after a very satisfying outing.
Travel Arrangements
Train journey from Macclesfield to Church Stretton. Bus service 552 or 553 from Snailbeach to Shrewsbury, followed by a train journey from there to Macclesfield. Doing this walk on a Saturday, like I did, now needs a route reversal since later departures from Snailbeach have been removed from the timetable.
Tops
4th September 2022 While I am not really focused on bagging summits of hills, a good number of them have featured on hikes this year. If conditions are clear, it often can be surprising how much of the surrounding countryside you can see from a lofty vantage point. Admittedly, some work better than others but it has been a noticeable trend and it is about the height above the neighbouring landscape rather than the actual height above sea level that matters.
That point has been proven on some trips to Ireland too. In April, I happened on the top of Feenlea Mountain near Killaloe in County Clare only to be stunned by the expanse of Lough Derg that lay below me with the nearby Arra Mountains in County Tipperary drawing my attention too. It helped that the morning was sunny and there are times when you need to try again with better conditions.
That was the case with Torc Mountain near Killarney in County Kerry. My first summit ascent was in poor visibility and only got done for the sake of personal satisfaction while the second was a diversion from the route of the Kerry Way that I was following from Kenmare to Killarney. Though sunshine was limited by cloud cover at that stage of the day and my legs were weary, the rewards were unmistakable; an American that I met on my way was awestruck by it all. The lakes of Killarney (Upper Lake, Muckross Lake and Lough Leane) lay below me and eastward views led my eyes as far as Lough Guitane and the hills that lay around it.
My encounter with Knockclugga in the Knockmealdown Mountains near Clogheen in County Tipperary was another case in point. While being surrounded by hills can limit what can be seen, this was no drawback on this rounded top. To the north, there were the Galtee Mountains while fellow hills like Knockshanahullion, Sugarloaf Hill and Knockmealdown brought scenic interest while the Comeragh Mountains lay to the east of everything mentioned so far.
None of the above hills is particularly high so it is their sitting that matters but I do not limit myself to those lower hills and trips to the Lake District have been a case in point. That did start with lower tops like Lingmoor Fell and Loughrigg Fell with the former allowing sightings around Great Langdale and Little Langdale while the former facilitated some photography capturing scenes around Grasmere that had been on my wishlist longer than might have been wise.
Greater heights were walked on the Fairfield Horseshoe and that included other tops like Heron Pike, Great Rigg, Hart Crag, Dove Crag, High Pike and Low Pike in addition to Fairfield itself. There were ample views of Grisedlae Hause, Grisedale Tarn, Helvellyn, St. Sunday Crag and Patterdale to occupy the time and the available if warm sunshine added greatly to the experience. One walk often begets another and so it proved in this case.
While part of the inspiration was provided by Terry Abraham's feature film on Helvellyn, the reminder came from the Fairfield Horseshoe. Having some free time in July might have allowed the trot to happen earlier but for uncooperative weather, rail strikes, the prospect of a then-forthcoming trip to Ireland and my not having thought of using Carlisle as a base. The latter was to enable the escapade and get around rail travel constraints so I got to Glenridding and chose a route that avoided both Striding Edge and Swirral Edge to contain any sense of exposure. That may have limited my sightings of Red Tarn but I was glad of the gentler way via White Side and Lower Man. There was a punishing descent to Thirlmere but any sightings of Catstye Cam, Ullswater, Skiddaw, Blencathra, Thirlmere and other landscape features made it all worthwhile.
That was followed by a Scottish incursion that did not enjoy the same kind of weather. Ben Ledi near Callander stayed largely clear on a day with cloud-filled skies that limited any sunshine but the views round about it inspire thoughts of returning. There was an associated hike around the Ochil Hills with limited visibility and pervasive dampness that adds even more impetus to the idea of returning when better conditions are in prospect. Tops can be clear and they can be clouded so it is the former that we all seek. Nevertheless, having gained so much from hilltops this year means that there is much for which to be grateful.
Scottish return
3rd September 2022 It has taken quite a while but I recently enjoyed some Scottish hill-wandering around Stirling. Stirling also was where I went when I last was in Scotland so there is a sliver of continuity despite the break of over three years. The main cause of this was the arrival of the pandemic which added travel nervousness on my part.
In 2019, the main reason for my trip was photographic and I stayed near its castle even though part of the structure was covered in scaffolding at the time. Even so, I could not help admiring any views of the Ochil Hills that lay before me. These were to prove a lure for a return trip once I summoned the courage to do so.
Before that, I have been finding my feet in England and Ireland. The latter has seen a few trips this year and the former has hosted various visits to the Pennines and the Lake District. Before the trip to Stirling, I even enjoyed a hike from the Ullswater to Thirlmere that took in the tops of White Side, Lower Man and Helvellyn in pleasing sunshine. The way up was gradual but the same could not be said for the testing descent that was on the point of beating those who were coming the other way.
My time in Stirling saw me mount more summits but without the accompaniment of the sort of weather than blessed my ascent of Helvellyn. Because the second hill day was set to be overcast, I was divided over where to go because going to Callander for an ascent of Ben Ledi had entered my head. In the event, it was that which was done on the better day and got me back somewhere that I had not frequented for around fifteen years. Skies were largely clouded so another return trip is in prospect whenever bright sunshine and clearer skies are likely. Still, the sun did break through the clouds from time to time so it was not all gloom. The landscape was stunning though and seeing that in brighter conditions remains an attraction.
It must have been stubbornness that led me to hike the summits of Ben Ever, Ben Cleuch, Andrew Gannel Hill and King's Seat Hill in poor visibility and it was just as well that I had wet weather gear given the enduring dampness on those tops. This was never a day for views but my navigation did not falter and the quietude of the experience was transporting. Perversely, the next day came sunny so a quick morning trip for some photography was in order before I needed to check out of the hotel. It was constrained by my not having charged camera batteries as much as was ideal but I still came away with much of what I had sought. Even so, a return in better weather cannot be ruled out since the incursion certainly got me away from everyday living and what I did get to see appealed to me.
Having reasons to return somewhere may be frustrating for any sense of closure but Scotland is laden with these for the weather does not always perform according to human desires. My only stay in Callander may have taken some of the sights around ben Ledi more than twenty years ago but it only was a halting point while en route to Fort William and Portree as I ran away from rain approaching from the east. As it happens, both Lorn and Lochaber have their share of sites where I fancy making better photos and even supplanting good images captured on film with digital counterparts. There is plenty of inspiration left yet.
Added meaning
21st August 2022 Reading about a location without having been there is not the same as reading about places where you have been. By having been somewhere, there is an added resonance that otherwise would be missing. It is as if a connection has been made and its absence is very noticeable when I go looking at destinations in North America, Australasia or any other part of the world where I have not travelled. Moreover, it is especially apparent if I go writing about any of these.
For whatever reason, I most often seem to build such associations through solitary perambulations rather than being with others as so many do. Even if it feels like a false dualism, there are some reasons why I operate in this way. One is that it allows serendipity that otherwise would be confounded by the preconceptions of others. Another is that my personality type often causes me to act too deferentially to avoid any form of conflict.
That may how explain Irish outings with my late parents often were constrained by their preferences and what they had fallen into doing. Even so, my having developed an aversion to how they enjoyed coastal scenery meant that we went to Gougane Barra and Killarney quite a bit. Walks and photo stops were limited compared to what would be had on a day hike and the abundance of photos that I have brought back with me from recent trips to Ireland are ample proof of that.
While it is the place of my birth, upbringing and much of my formal education, Ireland was always one of those places that I had not visited like the others. When you have family somewhere, the connectedness is good but it can limit opportunities for personal exploration when you live in another country as I have done.
Some ongoing life changes mean that this year is changing that state of affairs with various trips across the Irish Sea. Every county in the province of Munster has seen my footfall on three different trips. The first offered unexpected opportunities as much as I was glad of those during the second one. Then, there was a third that gave me what I had hoped to get and then went beyond this again.
In each of these, being out for walks in the Irish countryside allowed me to connect with it in a way that I have not done before. Going on foot meant going slower and that really helped since you do lose something by running or cycling through a landscape and using motorised transport means that you lose even more than self-powered travel. Walking means that you can stop whenever a view halts you so it can be savoured and embraced. 2022 has allowed a lot of this so far.
An endpoint is that I no longer look through Mountain Views or other published material about Irish hillwalking as if I am separated by a pane of glass but have found my own way into and around the Irish hills. There is added meaning for me now while I mull over trip ideas that take me into the Dublin, Wicklow and Mourne Mountains while also visiting or revisiting western locales. A return to Clare and Connemara would follow up on my 2018 trip nicely and there also is much to savour around Mayo and Donegal. My mind wanders as I muse over these prospects and what I have enjoyed so far might even free me up to act on such designs.
