Category: Trip Reports
A trot atop tors
19th December 2007 The prospect of some winter sunshine last Thursday had me taking a day off work for a spot of walking after my near hibernation for November. I rifled my way through the possibilities in my head before arriving at the idea of heading to Keswick and then Borrowdale. That plan never came to fruition, though, and I ended up embarking on a local stroll instead. The more adventurous plan remains a good prospect for the future...
That local stroll was to take me along the hills lining the Cheshire-Derbyshire border in the cold, chilly clearness and with a certain amount of concentration so as not to slip on any ice or mud. While up high, ice was the main concern, with flags attracting hoar frost and any water collected on tracks and paths was frozen. In contrast, slippery mud was cause for attention on downhill sections towards the end of the walk. All the while, I was well wrapped up and enjoying the sights.
My starting point was the Cat and Fiddle Inn, the second-highest pub in England and a short bus ride from the centre of Macclesfield, and the idea in my head was to redo part of a walk that once returned me to Macclesfield by way of Shining Tor, Pym Chair and Rainow in cloudier conditions. The idea of seeing the landscape around Cat's Tor and Pym Chair in better light was enough to encourage me. This time, instead of returning to Rainow from Pym Chair, I continued to Kettleshulme by way of Windgather Rocks and Taxal Edge. I could have finished in Kettleshulme but, given that there was an hour or so of daylight left, I opted to continue to Whaley Bridge via Toddbrook Reservoir and avoiding the B5470 as much as I could.
This is hill country that I have frequented on a number of different occasions, and with my following a slightly different route each time. For instance, the start of last Thursday's walk was also the start of a walk to Buxton via Errwood Reservoir in the Goyt Valley. I left that track for a path up Shining Tor. That path is in good condition, though it is showing signs of wear with webbing meant to support the path appearing above the gravel in some places as it crosses very boggy terrain, a fact reinforced by the sight of a very bogged down DK55-registered Massey Ferguson tractor. I assume that its owners will be back for it, but it is telling that even a four-wheel drive tractor cannot manage these conditions.
The boggy theme was continued with the appearance of flagstones underfoot, a situation very much reminiscent of parts of the Pennine Way. A gentle descent and ascent saw me to Cat's Tor, though the appearance of hoar frost on the flags concentrated the mind. That didn't stop me making the most of the photographic opportunities offering by a sun using the clouds to play hide and seek. I made up for earlier when the likelihood of lens flare reduced the possibilities when it came to capturing views of Shutlingsloe.
Suggesting sounder ground, the flags were lost after Cat's Tor and road was encountered at Pym Chair. At this point, I headed to Kettleshulme rather than Rainow as was the case of my previous trip. The ground was more or less thawed out from here onwards. A mixture of public and permissive paths got me to Windgather Rocks where more photographic action took place before continuing the public/permissive path and tarmac mixture, I reached Kettleshulme. Having more daylight with which to play, I chose to continue to Whaley Bridge. Although I largely avoided the remarkably unpleasant B5470, the tarmac/footpath mixture continued and care with a muddy descent to reach Todd Brook meant that I didn't more mud than I did. My journey was eventually to take me by Toddbrook Reservoir while making for Whaley Bridge and its train station. A railway journey round by Stockport was enough to get a very satisfied Irishman home.
A return to Brontë country
24th October 2007 In public transport terms, the day didn't start too well, yet I did get to do some hillwalking last Sunday. The first bus service from Macclesfield to Manchester didn't happen for me, either through it not running or my missing the thing by a mere minute. It doesn't matter what actually happened because the result was the same anyway. The alternative plot of catching the 10:29 train to Manchester Piccadilly was set into action. Once in Piccadilly, the next step was to make my way to Manchester Victoria to catch the 11:08 departure to Hebden Bridge, as I had originally planned. Things were looking hopeful until Stockport, but it went downhill after that. The result was that I ended up on the 12:09 to Hebden Bridge. The final leg of the journey was a ride on Transdev Keighley and District service 500 to Oxenhope.
Those obstacles overcome, I began my walk a good hour later than I had intended, but the day continued to be as sunny as it had started. If it had done otherwise, I would have had grounds for irritation. After finding my bearings, I started to make my way out of Oxenhope and took advantage of roadside footways all the way until I made it onto a minor road that I was soon to leave for the moorland public footpath network. I climbed steadily but not too steeply with views of Leeshaw reservoir to my left. Looking down gained me views of pleasant farmland with the moors overhead. I made my way around Haworth Moor and Harbour Hill to pick up the Brontë Way before it joined the Pennine Way and headed for Top Withins. I was to join the Pennine Way myself, but I had another footpath in mind. However, there was no sign of it in the heather, so I made my own crossing with a navigationally useful wall to my left.
The idea that I had in my mind was to knock off another section of the Pennine Way, but the reality was that I took a mere nibble of the portion between Haworth and Gargrave that I have yet to do. I did get as far as Ponden Reservoir and pondered going further, but the time that I had was limited. Launching further into remote country means that you have to return afterwards, and all of that was likely cost a lot of a commodity of which I didn't have a lot: time. Getting back to Macclesfield was actually a bigger consideration than when the sun was due to go down. So, I decided to head onto Stanbury via Ponden Mill and then onto Haworth for the last bus to Hebden Bridge so that I could retrace my way home. Otherwise, I would have had to get a bus to Keighley and then take a longer journey from there. As it turned out, I was home by a very timely 19:30; getting to the Worth Valley via Hebden Bridge is easily an hour shorter than going around by Keighley.
Something that had started out as an opportunity to bag another part of the Pennine Way turned into an enjoyable reconnaissance ramble in rustic moorland on a sunny October day. Naturally, my thoughts turned to how I might advance the PW cause in this area, so here goes. Getting into the Worth Valley via Hebden Bridge is a practical public transport option, and a quicker one than the obvious alternative. Trying on a Saturday would get me there earlier in the day and would also have the added advantage of there being a bus service to the pleasant village of Stanbury, assuming that the times worked out. A good supply of off-road walking would get me to Ponden Reservoir and the PW again. It's a plan, but who knows if or when I'll put it into action?
Postscript: Visiting land belonging to Yorkshire Water
Yorkshire Water seem to very keen on encouraging people to enjoy the land around their reservoirs. After all, they do have a website containing useful ideas for walkers, cyclists, horse riders and so on. Unsurprisingly, I took a look from the walker's perspective and there are walking route ideas with full descriptions and the same seems to be on offer to cyclists.
It's all a far cry from the way that things were once upon a time. Before the advent of water treatment plants and their like, reservoirs and the land round about them were out of bounds for the general public lest the supplies got contaminated. That mindset certain applied in Longdendale and also was behind the building of the Mourne Wall among the mountains of the same name in Northern Ireland. Aren't we lucky that we live in more enlightened times? And yes, I know that they are far from perfect...
Following brooks in Cheshire hill country
20th October 2007 On a bus journey from Macclesfield to New Mills some time back, I made a mental note of the pleasant hill country through which the B5470 threads its way from Rainow to Kettleshulme. Even though the memory remained with me, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I never managed to take a walk among the glorious surroundings until last Thursday afternoon. And that amazes me all the more when I look at the map and consider my ventures: there are many places in the vicinity where I have wandered, but this gap in my explorations still remained.
The morning was taken up with the main reason for my day off from work, an unsuccessful venture that left me feeling annoyed with myself, so a walk on a fine October day seemed as good a distraction as any. It may have not been the complete cure for my annoyance that I was hoping it would have been, but my head was clearer than before I popped out.
The sun was unsure of itself while I was readying myself for the outing, so I was wondering whether I would be seeing the landscape in the best light. I carried onto to Bollington anyway, and I'm glad that I did because the sun returned and, apart from some stutters, stayed away from clouds for the whole afternoon. I pottered up a minor road and picked up the Gritstone Trail for a while before I left it for a vehicle track taking me along the slopes above Harrop Brook. Looking back now at the route that I took, it could be said that I followed the same brook to its source on the slopes of Cook Hill and Broad Moss. A closer look at the map revealed a number of names accompanying Harrop Brook: Black Brook and Moss Brook are but two. My journey following these took me past the end of the vehicle track and onto muddier underfoot conditions as I passed through woodland and over fields, crossing the B5470 along the way.
Once across the aforementioned road, the views really opened up. I ascended the minor heights of Broad Moss, and views north towards the moors of the High Peak were mine to enjoy. That wasn't all since Taxal Edge, Pym Chair and Cats Tor all blocked any view of the Goyt Valley and its reservoirs. Those hills and the valley in question have been frequented by my boots on other walks, so I made my way towards Charles Head and Kettleshulme. Getting to the latter proved tricky because the B5470 is a busy if narrow road devoid of footways, so careful progress is a must if you are not to get knocked down. This is not an escape route to civilisation for the hill wanderer until you reach Rainow, and it certainly is no road to be walking in the dark.
Kettleshulme was to be the end of my walk on a wonderful day in equally wonderful surroundings. The public footpaths followed shared a property that pervades much of the public footpath network in England and Wales: haphazard waymarking. This makes it essential to be on the ball with your map and your compass; GPS would help too. Where things got tricky, I kept it simple and, since my plan was fluid, any diversions taken were no disappointment. In fact, they added to the experience.
A Sunday morning stroll
7th October 2007 The weather in Britain and Ireland is an ever-changing affair that doesn't take long to change when it sets its mind to it; thirty minutes often is all that's needed. The weather this weekend is what's put that thought into my head. Yesterday morning started as a cloudy affair before the clouds shifted to leave a cloudless blue sky and very quickly too. That wasn't to last long, however, and my enthusiasm for an afternoon stroll among the hills beyond Bollington waned. Yes, I have to admit that cloudy skies do bring out the lazy git in me as does my indecision regarding where to go for a walk when my time is limited; it's all too easy to stay where you are. Many of my walks are also photographic expeditions of a sort and cloudy skies more often than not do not make for pleasing landscape photos; saying that, they are good for subjects where diffuse light is what you need and woodland comes to mind as an example.
This morning was a similar affair and it is now well cloudy as I write this, though the sun is still trying to find a way through. However, I made no mistake when the sky cleared this time and pottered out for what was a gentle stroll starting on my own doorstep. The thoughts of seeing wondrous autumn colour in equally wonderful October sunshine was enough to set me on my way to Prestbury along the Bollin Valley Way. And I wasn't to be disappointed on my excursion. My return journey was an unplanned affair made up of a mishmash of public footpath and road walking; at one point I ended up on an overgrown path and encountered plenty of nettles in a wilder patch of a normally manicured Cheshire. The sun had delighted, but clouds were appearing from the south and, within minutes of returning home, the sky had filled with clouds.
Trekking around the Trossachs
22nd September 2007 Having dispatched my musings on the West Highland Way, I can now recount my wanderings on the last weekend in August, a bank holiday in England but not Scotland; they, like Éire, get theirs at the start of August. A Saturday free of driving lessons meant that an excursion was very likely, so I returned to Scotland when I saw a promising forecast.
Since the weather on that Saturday was not to be the best, I chose that day for travelling. Everything was going hunky-dory until I took a tumble at Dumbarton East train station and felt the worst for wear afterwards. It then was a case of getting to my hotel for the night and taking things easier from then on. Otherwise, it had been a good train journey all of the way from Macclesfield, with changes in Manchester, Lancaster and Glasgow. The change in Glasgow allowed me to get a new Explorer 365 after its predecessor had somehow managed to disappear. While my maps don't usually do things like that, it was fortuitous in the sense that the Rob Roy Way is shown in the current edition.
Though the sun made fleeting appearances while I was in Dumbarton, I wasn't to make much use of my camera there. The nearby castle looked promising, as did the Kilpatrick hills. These offer possibilities for the future, and I will be watching my steps in train stations around there after my mishap. Sunday saw me leave for Balloch, where I caught a bus to Drymen for the start of my walk.
It was just as well, given my tumble, that I had chosen part of the less challenging Rob Roy Way as the route for my weekend stroll. Initially, I had designs on heading to Balmaha and starting from there and rounding Conic Hill, only to drop this idea because my start was later than originally intended. From Drymen, the RRW follows the old Gartmore Road for three and a half miles (5.6 km) before it heads west to Aberfoyle through Loch Ard Forest, where the trail is usefully waymarked. Views of the Campsie Fells were plentiful and there were glimpses of Ben Lomond to be had too. While I am usually not a fan of road walking, the road was quiet and I appreciating the easier going. Having to remain alert for cars is my main reason for disliking road walks. Once off the road, northward views opened up, with the Menteith Hills being among what was to be seen. The tarmac was lost too, along with any sights of pylons, and it was all pleasant stuff. I made decent progress even with carrying a heavy rucksack and polished off the ten-mile walk in five hours to reach a sun-drenched Aberfoyle; because cloud abounded, the sun wasn't out all of the time.
For the evening, I settled myself in an Aberfoyle guest house before going on a stroll to and from Loch Ard itself. Surprisingly, I wasn't feeling the effects of my endeavours and so enjoyed my walk along the quiet road, which lead all of the way to Inversnaid on the shores of Loch Lomond. Even though the sun was playing hard to get, some photographic opportunities did present themselves and I did my best with them. When I got back to the guest house, road workers from the council were proceeding with road repairs that were to continue all night, much to the annoyance of other guests at my lodgings. Nevertheless, I suffered no such inconvenience and was extra careful when passing lorries, dumpers and other such carriageway maintenance machinery.
The next morning began promisingly. The sun was out, and it wasn't overly hot either, a feature of the whole weekend; walking and hot weather are not made for each other. I encountered some Americans at breakfast who were wondering what bank holidays and speed cameras were. I satisfied their curiosity before they continued their way on a holiday that was to lead them to Ireland's mid and southwest. As I finished my breakfast, children were making their way to school. It was a normal Scottish weekday.
I took my leave of the guest house to follow the RRW to Callander. It was 10:00 by the time that I began to make progress away from Aberfoyle; this always seems to happen to me on these trips: I leave somewhere later than I would have liked. From Aberfoyle, it was on to Dounan's Centre and into more forestry; more RRW waymarks were there to resolve any confusion. Views of the Campsie Fells and towards Ben Lomond still pervaded as I headed along the Menteith Hills. The forestry track turned into a path that was to take me through open country with splendid views before me lit up by the sun. It was after an unnamed lochan that I again found myself with forestry track underfoot. That track was to drop me down to the shores of Loch Vennacher, with views of Ben Ledi percolating through the trees.
Sadly, cloud cover predominated while I was walking by Loch Vennacher and the sun was nowhere to be seen. Still, the scenery looked glorious, causing me to add a mental note about n=making another visit when the skies are less clouded. The Trossachs proper were further west and a busy A821 could be heard, though it wasn't to be that intrusive. It remained cloudy as I bashed more tarmac to arrive in Callander at 15:00; I had made good time and put three miles behind me in an hour without too much effort.
Since Callander was where I ended my walking for the weekend, I caught a bus from there to Stirling. It started to rain as I left: some sort of pathetic fallacy, perhaps? At Stirling train station, I was in something of a dilemma regarding the next stage of my journey: was I going via Edinburgh or Glasgow? It should have been a no-brainer; I had a return ticket from Macclesfield to Glasgow. Being overcautious me, I had to double-check things before plumping for Glasgow.
As it happened, I made it to Queen Street station shortly after 17:20 and hot footed it to Central station in a pleasing 10 minutes; I will keep that in mind for the future. Then, I hopped on the 17:40 departure for London Euston and was home by 22:30, having changed in Preston and Manchester on the way south. It was a good trip into some countryside where I hadn't been before, and I hope to come back again.
