Category: Trip Reports
A good walk home on a blustery day
11th February 2009 Recent entries on this blog have wandered into areas not often frequented by my thoughts so it is high time that I got the first trip report of 2009 on here. One of the causes of those thoughts darting here, there and everywhere is the current cold spell with its numerous dumps of snow. In everyday life, snow has become avoidable but, on my first trek of the year, I didn't encounter any of the white stuff at all.
That was because I was out the day before the snow came. When it came to weather, a strong frigid south-easterly was the main encumbrance though it was possible to escape its influence in sheltered spots. That didn't stop me taking a bus journey up to the Cat and Fiddle Inn between Macclesfield and Buxton to commence a walk back to my house again. The idea had been in my head for a while and the fact that it would only take part of a day allowed time for other things afterwards has its appeal for me.
It was sufficiently breezy about the pub in question that I invested more attention in crossing the A537, a road with a foul reputation thanks to its ability to attract bikers with its many bends. The reason for that crossing was to pick up a bridleway that was more or less due south, though it does change to a more easterly direction later on in its length. In November 2004, this was the start of a very muddy hike (some may have forgotten it now but the whole year was well wet and grey and that's how I remember it) that took me to Rushton Spencer with much of the route following the Dane Valley Way and passing Three Shire Heads, Gradbach and Danebridge along the way. In fact, I met up with the Gritstone Trail as I approached the A523 for a walk into Rushton to catch a bus home.
Returning to 2009, I was going nowhere near Three Shire Heads, let alone Gradbach, Danebridge or Rushton Spencer. In fact, I wanted to pick up a path that tempted me in 2004, but thoughts of muddy feet kept me away and there is irony in the way that things turned out that way as it happened. So, I continued along the bridleway through former coal mining land until I lost sight of Shutlingsloe and Croker Hill to reach the signpost erected by the Peak and Northern Footpaths Society. Progress was set to be downhill from here as Cumberland Brook was first found and then followed. At one point, I may not have followed the path as intended but, given that it was all Open Access land anyway, I was never going to have anyone shouting at me for it. The path met a track that was to take me towards Clough House near Wildboarclough and by a delightful wood too with views of Shutlingsloe ahead of me.
There might have been a path by Clough House but I stuck with the road rather than cutting though its yard. Another path was reached without delay and I was on my way towards Shutlingsloe itself. At this stage, I was between two minds as to go around the hill or up and over. Having walked to its summit twice before, I was minded to skirt its slopes but decided to ascend it in the end. The path rounded Banktop to reach my second island of access land after leaving the first en route to Clough House. That allowed me to pick my own more gentle way to the top of the hill and it proved to be just as well with the public footpath taking a steeper line through crags. In one sense, the gentler line might have been more manageable with the strength of the wind but it could also have been that the traditional route was less exposed to it. Returning to the strength of that wind, I and those around me were to feel it more keenly the higher that we went. I have to say that this was the strongest breeze that I have ever felt and there was one that came close when it hit near the end of a hike from Horton-in-Ribblesdale to Hawes along the Pennine Way. Even standing was difficult and movement became much more of a feat than usual. Nevertheless, I was so near the top that I continued inching my way forward; in another situation, I would reconsider what I was doing. Intriguingly, the wind was less strong on the top and standing around the trig point was no problem; it can be surprising where shelter is found.
I felt the wind again on the way down along the slabbed path to Macclesfield Forest but it was no way near as intense as before. On the way into the forest, I met a gentleman who was wondering where the path along which I had come was going. I showed him where he was on his forestry visitor map and he decided on another course that kept within the forest itself; he and his young one might have been better off. Rather than dropping straight down to Trentabeck Reservoir, I chose a concessionary bridleway that took me round by Nessit Hill before dropping me on a minor road next to Ridgegate reservoir. That track was very muddy in places thanks in no small part to tree felling operations but it took nothing from my enjoyment of the walk.
From the road, I took another concessionary bridleway before making my way onto the Gritstone Trail to come out on Clarke Lane near Bottoms Reservoir. After a walk along the road through Langley, I left tarmac after me again to tramp though fields around by Macclesfield Golf Course while en route to Macclesfield Canal. Tiredness raised its profile about this time, but home was near at hand and a mixture of street negotiation and canal bank strolling returned me to my doorstep. I suppose that staying upright in that strong wind had taken its toll, as did the distance travelled together with the amount of ascent and descent that was involved. It had been a good few hours walking on a dry if cold day with the sun occasionally breaking through the cloudy sky. 2009 had started well.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 58 between Macclesfield and the Cat and Fiddle Inn.
A look back at 2008 Part 3: Beyond Midsummer
17th January 2009 Midsummer in 2008 might have been a time when I felt that the year had peaked, and the encroachment of unsettled weather may have had something to do with that view. Certainly, the year will not be remembered for having a sunny summer and many were disappointed, even if it did have its better interludes.
Personally, I reckon that it's best to try and enjoy what is visited upon us at any time of year, and seem to have come to the conclusion that the traditional summer holiday season is overrated. There may be more hours of daylight but, if the days get too hot, it may be worth sticking to the cooler parts of the day and that reduces the amount of time available for wandering through the countryside anyway, perhaps restricting the time available until it is not that much different from spring or autumn anyway.
Even with the feeling that the second half of a year feels like an anticlimax after the first, I continued to get out into attractive countryside. I found hot sunny weather in July, was extremely lucky with my visits to Scotland in August, had an easier September and October before taking advantage of numerous wonderful opportunities in November and December. There was much to behold, so here are a few recollections of it all.
July
In walking terms, July was another fallow month, with a sun scorched saunter along the Offa's Dyke Path near Welshpool at the end of the month being the main trip of note. Otherwise, time limited by other activities ensure that most of my major outdoor activity was to be cycling rather than walking. The month's mixture of weather contributed too, but I was feeling that the best of the year had passed by this time anyway, and began to wonder if the timing of the school holidays was more than a little nonsensical. I also got to mull over island wandering as a possibility for my now habitual longer Scottish walking break. My few hours on Kerrera in May may have had something to do with this inspiration coming upon me, and I felt the need for a longer break anyhow.
August
The main even in August was that island hopping trip to Skye and the Western Isles. Though, anyone surveying the weather and the weather forecast on the eve of the trip might have questioned my sanity for even considering what I was about to undertake. In the event, I struck the jackpot: while other parts of the U.K. and Ireland were getting a soaking, I managed to find wonderful sunshine and avoid those downpours. That was thanks to the belt of rain getting stuck across the north of England and the south of Scotland. Harris was to prove the highlight of the week, without Skye failing to satisfy or the peace of the Uists being forgettable. However, it does need to be said that South Uist felt a little like an anti-climax after Harris, so it might be best to journey in the northbound direction on any future visit. A social visit to Edinburgh followed, but I still got in a few hours among the Pentland Hills, an area that I surprisingly ignored when I lived up there in that city.
September & October
September and October turned out to be pivotal months for many reasons, the economic situation in the wider world being one of them. For me, it was a period lacking in longer walking excursions, but shortening days meant that walks at lunchtimes started to take over from evening cycles.
Another trip to Ireland in September allowed me to spend a few sunny hours around Gougane Barra. Even though I felt unable to add a fuller narrative for that trip, the photos found their way into the photo gallery very quickly.
Alongside this, the realities of writing a longer trip away were made plain to me as producing reports for my Hebridean trip began to take eat up their share of time. It wasn't just the writing that slowed progress, since choosing and processing the photos to be included as part of the descriptions nearly were more rate limiting than the actual writing itself. That experience had been happening throughout the year, but it really came to a head with the larger block of writing.
Staying with the subject of lessons learned, I started to cast more of a critical eye on the focus of the blog and came to the conclusion that much of the musings on public transport really belonged elsewhere. In time, another blog was spawned for that, but travel matters relevant to the exploring of wonderful countryside will continue to make their appearance here. In time, any old posting falling outside of this might get moved elsewhere as part of continued content reshaping, yet I'll leave things as they are for now.
November
November saw me re-emerge into areas well populated by hills again. The first of two trips to Cumbria saw me embark on an out and back trek from Windermere's train station to Yoke. I had gone north with a few ideas in mind, and this proved to be just as well when public transport and the available daylight constrained my ambitions a little. Neither did anything to spoil my enjoyment of the day.
A miscalculation on the following weekend had me walking from Ardlui to Butterbridge a day too early for good weather to do its magic on the landscape. In some respects, the hike echoed my February outing to the area in that showers got going to make things feel unpleasant as I descended towards the end of my walk. I may not have seen the countryside in its best light, but plans for potential excursions came to mind, and they may compensate for this at some suitable juncture in the future.
Dullness of a drier variety was set to dominate my walk from Ambleside to the top of Red Screes and back the next weekend. Some sunshine managed to escape from its cloudy prison towards the end of the walk, yet the intense cold remains in mind, particularly since the turning on of Ambleside's Christmas lights delayed my journey home.
December
December may be considered by meteorologists to be the start of winter, but my walking was not about to go into hibernation, especially with the possibility of sampling some snow. So, the first Saturday of the month saw me return to the Howgill Fells after the briefest of visits a few years earlier. The snow that I met got me wondering about winter skills and such like, but the experience was one not to be missed. The day after had me out exploring Macclesfield's hills with an out and back hike from my own doorstep. I might have been trampling familiar ground, but there were some new sides to be seen too.
A trip to Ireland for Christmas and New didn't stop my walking either, even if road walking took up the most of what I was doing. Nevertheless, I got to get off-road to explore around Springfield Castle near Broadford in County Limerick and even got to sample a little piece of the Dingle peninsula around Camp and Castlegregory in Kerry.
Sunshine enlivened both walks, but that part of Kerry was frequented by a biting wind while we were there; nevertheless, it didn't stop me wandering a little way along a track (used by a tractor to get winter feeding to livestock by appearance of things) through the dunes at Maherabeg (Machaire Beag in Irish) in the late evening sunshine, at least shadowing the Dingle Way if not actually following it. That brought a year packed full of walking trips and opportunities to a delightful close. 2009 awaits.
A time for adding photos
11th January 2009 The greyness of the weekend did nothing to shift my inclination to stay put at home. To be honest, I was in that mood anyway and I could have made something of yesterday and today if I was so determined. January hasn't had a bad start and I did get in some lunchtime walking this past week and my surroundings looked ever so enticing with that dusting of snow that was gifted to us earlier in the week. The weather over the Christmas wasn't so unkind to us either, even if it did require us to wrap up warm when going out of doors. I was in Ireland for that and got some short walks too, even if that meant tarmac bashing for most of the time. Some sunshine was visited upon us when the grey gloom wasn't about and we ended up on the Dingle Peninsula for a few hours. That meant that a number of photos were made in the late afternoon sunshine and some of these have found their way into the Kerry section of the photo gallery. There are some photos taken on a brief visit to Dublin's Phoenix Park before Christmas that are candidates for addition too once I decide which ones make the cut. Thinking back over 2008, I think that it has one of the better years when it comes to my taking good photos in the land of my birth. For now, I can only hope that 2009 brings more of the same.
A look back at 2008 Part I: a year of many journeys
10th January 2009 The turning of a year is often time to take stock and look back upon what has just gone by. For whatever reason, the beginning of 2008 feels like an eternity ago. Over its course, there have been many journeys for me, be they explorations of wonderful countryside or meanderings of the mind; I didn't rename this space "Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer" a year ago for nothing. World events have taken on their own dramatic itineraries too but that's not what I do here. If anything, getting out for a walk in open hill country allows for an escape from the rough and tumble that surrounds us.
With all the revolution in the air, I have taken an evolutionary path with this blog. Its content has been honed over the past twelve months with a greater emphasis placed on outdoors matters than ever before. Entries devoted to public transport matters presented opportunities presented opportunities for tangential diversions so these have been diverted to another blog unless the subjects directly affect the reaching of walking destinations without needing to be self sufficient on the transport front.
Another subject that crops up here from time to time is the gear that I use for my hiking. Of course, being more interested in appreciating the wonder of the outdoors, it is far from being my main interest. In any case, gear purchases weren't that many in number anyway but the introduction of my Scarpa boots to more regular use generated some comment on my part. Trail shoes reached retirement without comment and were replaced satisfactorily by Strives and Hedgehogs from TNF (I have a soft spot for trail shoes that needs to be controlled). A soft shell jacket from The North Face was added to my collection in June and became well used over the summer, earning its place as a valued piece of kit. Looking towards a future with greater independence on the accommodation front, I bought a sleeping bag from Alpkit. That's a subject that I broached last year but remains an avenue of which I have yet only tantalising glimpses. As I said earlier, it's not about the gear but the journeys that it allows me to undertake that matters.
Speaking of journeys, it has been the overview of trips undertaken that have formed the framework for previous annual reviews in 2007 and 2006. This year, I am going to split things up so that they don't become too large to digest and I want to include wider musings anyway. The next part in this review will take in journeys for the first part of 2008 followed by another one for the second half of the year. Every one of these trips has been brought about by by my ever present wonder of the natural world, even that influenced heavily by human activity like what we find in the U.K. With all of the ominous portents that surrounds it is probably worth remembering William Henry Davies' Leisure:
WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—
No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
I only hope that some of the above sentiment can be conveyed in what appears on here in 2009, the blog's fourth calender year, and that it will be a year filled with hikes and cycles like its immediate predecessor. That wish applies as much for you as it does for me.
A winter wander from home to hills and back again
21st December 2008 After my sampling of the Howgills the day before, the continuing run of fine if very frosty weather had me out again. This time around, I stayed local and ventured into Macclesfield's hilly hinterland. In fact, my walk started and ended on my own doorstep, and that happens from time to time. Even though my memory of them was far from photographic, the trails followed were ones that I have often trodden, but that was never to dull the satisfaction from being in the outdoors, even if non-completion of pre-Christmas chores did nag a little at the back of my mind.
My first task was to make my way into the country, and I left the streets behind to follow the towpath beside part of a frozen Macclesfield Canal for a little while. As it happened, I met up with a collection of characters trying to do some fishing. One spotted my walking poles and commented, jokingly I think (well, one of those with him was laughing anyway), that he could do with a loan of them for ice breaking duties. I carried on, noticing the difficulty that ducks were having on the ice, until the point where the canal towpath is shut following the collapse of a wall; there was a man out walking his dog when it happened, and he attributes his not being under the rubble to his mutt's slowing him down!
Following a now familiar itinerary, I then returned to tarmac again as I continued up towards the Macclesfield Golf Club's clubhouse to pick up a footpath that rounded both the golf course and the hill that played host to it before dropping down to Langley; that secured my escape from the urban confines of Macc. Shutlingsloe could be seen in the distance, with Sutton Common and Croker Hill bringing up the rear behind the village of Sutton. The ground was its customary winter softness at this point, and an eagle eye was kept out for any wayward greasy spot that would sweep the legs from under me. The descent took me through more sheltered parts where the overnight frost remained.
A hike right through the village of Langley was needed before I found another escape from civilisation. This led me towards the Gritstone Trail but, rather than following it up to the summit of Tegg's Nose, I opted for a different way. Picking up a bridleway that led me between Teggsnose Reservoir and Bottoms Reservoir, I continued to round yet another hill before starting on the ascent again after crossing a stream that feeds Teggsnose Reservoir, one of those that I had passed earlier. Another road crossing later, and I was on to a concessionary path named Saddler's Way for some reason. The gradient steepened and the views continued to open out until I made my way to a viewpoint at Tegg's Nose Country Park. A host of humpy stuff with Shutlingsloe among them lay there as a feast for the eyes.
It was at this point that I started on the Gritstone Trail proper for my journey to Kerridge. As I started crossing fields again, winter started to make its presence a little more obvious, with snow remaining along by stone walls. Someone had even fashioned an igloo of sorts, and the structure was still very much there to see. A crossing of the A537 saw me go down a rough slope that might have offered plenty of greasy mud had it not been for the fact that it was frozen solid. After the steep descent came an equally testing ascent; appropriately, a brook lay in the gash that I needed to negotiate.
That set me on my way towards Rainow and, soon enough, the said village started to come into view. Imperfect memories of the route were refreshed as I went, and the B5470 was reached without any navigational madness. The path on the other side of the road took a little finding with the signpost being a little away from the road and nestled between two houses, a combination that makes it easy to miss and goes to prove that you cannot remember everything.
Following that modicum of route finding, the last stretch of steep ascent for the day awaited, and it was on frozen east-facing slopes too. If the sun had ever got over Kerridge Hill, it wasn't managing it while I was scaling it. The reward for these exertions was a level stroll along a ridge replete with generous panoramic views. As if that is insufficient, the folly that is the White Nancy stands atop the Bollington end of the ridge. The landmark is a simple affair that has attracted its share of vandalism over the years; it is a hollow construction, but can no longer be entered thanks to the attentions of some. In recent years, there was a prank that involved painting the thing pink, an act not without its amusement value, even if it did wind up the locals.
More frozen slopes were crossed on the way down to Kerridge, and at a time when it could be seen that the day was coming closer to its end. One more road crossing took me onto public footpaths that led me back on to the banks beside a different part of a partially frozen Macclesfield Canal. Light was really fading by now, and I changed over to the Middlewood Way for the short distance to the well-lit streets along which I would complete my walk, with a call to a shop for provisions along the way.
Revisiting those familiar trails turned out to be a very good use of one of the cold, crisp, dry sunny days that can visit us at this time of year. Other folk were out and about too, but they weren't so numerous as to make the countryside feel anything like overcrowded; many good stretches of solitude were there too to soothe the spirit. It just goes to show that you should never overlook what can be reached from your doorstep.
