Category: Wales
A wander around Welshpool in hot weather
30th July 2008 After a mini-heatwave, we seem to have returned to more run-of-the-mill British weather again. Not being a fan of hot weather, I am not sorry, even if it means that things are a little damper. That heat made the past weekend none too ideal for a spot of hill wandering, but July seemed to slip by without such an outing and, on Sunday, I headed off to Welshpool for a circular hike regardless. It was to be a day for protecting oneself from the effects of strong sun and intense heat. There was a threat of showers, but I was long ensconced at home by the time that one happened in Macclesfield, and none was to cool me down on my way around Montgomeryshire.
The travel arrangements were easy: take a train to Wolverhampton and change there for the last leg of the journey, both on the way out and the way back. Public transport arrangements aren't that easy sometimes, so this was one of the simpler days. The journey wasn't too long either, with a departure not long before 09:00 landing me in Welshpool at around 11:25. Even with departing at about 18:50, I was back home well before 22:00.
Being allotted a good amount of time, I decided not to force myself and to watch how much walking I was doing, understandable given the weather on the day. I started with a quick amble around Welshpool before heading for the hills, and it actually looks a reasonably pleasant town. My escape into the countryside took me north along the Montgomery canal, part of the Severn Way, until I approached the Offa's Dyke Path. Crossing from one trail to the other did mean some crossing of busy roads and a building site for a new livestock market. Once past those obstacles, I joined the aforementioned national trail at Buttington to proceed through fields where cereals are growing before I hit the slopes. The hinterland of the Severn clearly has its fertile spots.
As with other parts of the Offa's Dyke Path, the hills to the east of Welshpool are not that high, but they are steep-sided. I found the same sort of topography around Knighton and the hill country north around Ruthin, Llangollen and Chirk also shares this characteristic. The day was getting hotter all the while, so I took my time ascending the slopes until they levelled out a bit as I neared Beacon Ring fort, the highest point of my hike at around 400 metres above sea level. From there on, the terrain stayed more friendly with its ups and downs and forest cover was on offer for a good of the journey down to Forden, where I left the Offa's Dyke Path to return to Welshpool.
That return involved a lot of road walking, never a pleasant thing and not helped by boiling heat or having to keep an eye out for combine harvesters and their ilk. A plan for using the public footpath network to cut down on the tarmac bashing came to nought when I saw what my map's suggestion crossed: a field with growing crops and no obvious way through. In any case, it was better not to attempt tricky navigation in the heat.
As I continued on, I took advantage of any shade for a rest when it offered, and it is for that reason that I took a break beside a high hedge near Welshpool's airport. After negotiating a roundabout that thankfully wasn't too busy at the time, I made my way up a quiet lane that took me again onto the Montgomery canal and the Severn Way for the last stretch of the way into Welshpool. By now, the heat was such that I was glad to be reaching my journey's end for the day and, when I did make Welshpool, I found a quiet and well appreciated shady spot for a bit of recuperation before catching the train home again.
Dolwyddelan bound but Dolgarrog destined
3rd June 2008 The strange title comes from the fact that a planned walking trip to Dolwyddelan got scuppered by a public transport lapse. I was travelling on a sunny Sunday a few weeks ago when the promised 07:40 rail replacement coach service to Wilmslow didn't materialise; what was listed on the National Rail website was a work of fiction. The result was that my train tickets for Dolwyddelan weren't to be fully used because of missed connections.
Instead, I resolved that a safer prospect to go part way up the Conwy valley to the quiet backwater of Dolgarrog. I was sorely tempted by the idea of a bus connection to my intended destination but I stuck to my guns for a walk with a slightly earlier start. Inspections of maps since then has made me realise that Dolwyddelan would still have been an option but that's not how I saw it at the time.
Once in Dolgarrog, I made my way up the steep wooded slopes that really worked out my legs and warmed me up. The confusing maze of paths and tracks also exercised by navigational skills and I am pleased to state that no failures occurred. After that start, things levelled out a bit and I rounded Coedty reservoir to set off into open country as part of a circular hike. Clouds were aplenty but the sun still broke though as steady progress was made along a good track along the lower slopes of Moel Eilio. I soon reached the broken dams of Llyn Eigiau, a relic of the disaster than struck in 1925 and a reminder of the 16 people who died in Dolgarrog and the need for the reservoir legislation that has been passed since then. Somewhat appropriately, members of the Carneddau offered a brooding backdrop to the scene as I then turned away to start my return trek to civilisation again. As I plied my way, I detoured over Waen Bryn-gwenith for some freestyle wandering before returning to the tarmac for a timely drop down into Tal-y-Bont, a short hop north of Dolgarrog, in ample time for a bus back to Llandudno Junction from where the railway conveyed me home again and without mythical connections confounding my progress.
All in all, it was a good day out. I might not have got to Dolwyddelan as planned but there are seeds sown for future outings. A walk from Dolwyddelan to Capel Curing is one such ploy but another is a trek from the Conwy Valley through to Bethesda or Bangor, passing by the Carneddau. It's a tempting possibility even if there would be a goodly amount of ascent and descent for those legs in the middle of the hike. Leaving somewhere with ideas for return visits is far from disappointing; in fact, I am inclined to consider it a successful attribute of a good day out. Having new places to explore does keep me going back to the outdoors and, if I ever felt that I had explored everywhere, a clear impossibility, then that desire for the outdoors could wither. I think that I may have experienced that sort of feeling at times over the last year so it feels good be building up a list of potential trips for one of them to be pulled off the shelf and dusted down when an opportunity presents itself. I hope that those ideas keep coming.
Finding some sun on a bank holiday
30th May 2008 In weather terms, May has been anything but a bad month, apart maybe from those deluges down south. However, it did have a shaky beginning and its first bank holiday weekend was far being settled. After a dry day in Teesdale, I wasn't expecting much for the Sunday but I seem to remember that it wasn't as bad as was predicted. In any event, the day in question offered an opportunity for a useful rest and allowed my mind to turn towards ideas for the day after. A ridge of high pressure was trying to make inroads from the west and so it seemed that Wales was a good bet, particularly given my lack of attention to the principality in recent years.
The skies were grey and the landscaped sheathed in a primordial murkiness as I made my way from Macclesfield, changing trains at Stoke-on-Trent and Crewe as I went. There was no hint of anything else and a duvet day could have resulted for me, only for my decisiveness; I am not always thus. In fact, I was nearly halfway along the North Wales coast before things really started to cheer up. This was to be my first sight of the weather that was to pervade the rest of the month.
My arrival in Bangor was blessed by hot sunny weather and I appreciated the shade as I awaited the bus to Bethesda, the starting point for my day's walk. That wait, lengthened by the observance of a Sunday timetable, allowed me a wee wander around the centre of the city in question. A pound was all that the final stretch of my outbound journey would cost me.
Once in Bethesda, I headed for the hills. OS maps aren't much use for navigating streets but I made my way onto open hillside without a fuss. Finding myself on Open Access land, I got tempted by the prospect of mounting the 409 metres summit of Moel Faban. After that diversion, a spot of map inspection was needed to return me to the bridleway that I had been following; I rejoined it at the base of Bwlch ym Mhwlle-le. That was the first indication of a certain "devil may care" attitude that was to pervade the rest of the walk. Initially clear, the bridleway became less distinct as it crossed the moorland and I opted for a less precise course that still set me up for another path that led up the side of Moel Wnion, a far more distinct affair.
Up to the point where I reached the saddle between Moel Wnion and nearby Gyrn, I had in my head the idea of an out and back trot from Bethesda, possibly taking in the heights of Garnedd Uchaf. However, a bank of low cloud coming in from the sea aroused some concern and I got to wonder about my own abilities. So, while I descended to the cwm ahead of Drosgyl, I decided to change tack and head towards the coast along the side of Moel Wnion rather than go up the former hill.
Being on rough moorland means that paths can be indistinct and so it was for the first part of my now northbound hike. Higher up Moel Wnion, it all got much clearer and the sharp drop was as good a handrail as any in any event. The views of nearby hills were good too as I made my way towards the North Wales Path. Rather than sticking with the right of way all the time, I was eventually to take a clear, if unofficial, path over Crâs to reach the trail that was to take me onward.
Dropping down to the North Wales Path came with a price: I entered that sea fog that I had seen earlier. Still, even if waymarking was far from perfect, the course to be followed remained clear. The presence of stiles is often a good guide to the course of a right of way and so it was here, and the grassy track was far from unclear. In fact, visibility never became so poor that a map wasn't helpful either. The mistiness had its pleasures too: a spot of cool on an otherwise warm day. It was a nicety that I was soon to lose and I also lost the clear track once I reached the road. After that, it was very much a question of careful navigation as the trail weaved its way along roads and through fields until I got near the A55.
From that point, it was largely a case of road walking until I reached Bangor train station. I might have caught an earlier train if I went from Tal-y-bont on a bus, but the spots of off-road progress and glimpses of Penrhyn castle were worthwhile too. Anyway, the extra time allowed me to compose myself before the journey home. It was a good day out.
A source of some distraction
27th May 2008 After the Mayday bank holiday weekend, I promised to add a trip report for a day outing to North Wales, but the combination of it being May and our having some decent weather has meant that my attention has dashed off elsewhere. It's hard not to be tempted by the outdoors at this time of year, with all the colours that abound. In addition to the fresh, verdant green of the new foliage, the list becomes a very long one. After all, this is my favourite time of the year.
Here's a cursory summary: the magnetic hues of the glades of bluebells, the white of hawthorn blossom and the catkins on horse chestnut trees, the yellow of the flowering gorse and the pink of the cherry blossom. There are more (that ever present invader, rhododendron, comes to mind) but what I have listed is enough to send you off somewhere when some sunshine is on offer. The result is that I have spent evenings in the outdoors near my home in Cheshire, and another trek to Wales ensued.
To cap it all, I have just spent a glorious weekend in Argyll, and I am kicking myself for not allowing an extra day for making even more of it than I did. Just catch Aktoman's photos from his recent trek in the Cairngorms to see what I mean; it makes my exertions look minor in comparison, and I wish that I had pushed the boat out more than I did. Not having full foresight of the weather when working for a living has the effect of cutting yourself short sometimes, especially when you need to plan ahead and get the required clearance.
All of that means more trip reports, so I'd better get cracking sometime. Of course, the trick is making the time, but the weather looks to be damper over the coming days; that might allow me the time to settle the matter. When the weather draws you outside all the time, it can be challenging to get anything else done. That applies to more than blogging.
Avoiding showers along the Welsh border
14th April 2008 For the weak willed, the threat of heavy showers over the past weekend might have been an excuse to stay at home from the outdoors, but dry sunny weather featured more than one would have thought in light of the various forecasts. As for me, I just couldn't rouse up any enthusiasm for going anywhere; I just was in no mood for it. The weekend before couldn't have been more different: after a month of March that was quiet on the hill wandering front for various reasons, a lengthy bout of "man flu" included, I firmly decided that I was going somewhere to get out among hills and an imperfect wasn't going to stop. I was prepared for it.
The destination was to be the hill country near Knighton on the Wales-England border. It was a plan that I attempted to execute last December, but a late train thwarted my designs and I explored the Long Mynd instead. This time, no mistake was made, as I left Macclesfield early in the morning and ended up leaving myself a forty-minute window in Shrewsbury after a train journey involving a change in Wolverhampton. I used that time to go for a walk around the town in damp weather, and I came away impressed with what I saw. In fact, I have made a mental note to make a photographic foray to both Shrewsbury and Oswestry some sunny day when I want something a little different from my usual hill country forays.
I completed my stroll in ample time to catch my train to Knighton and, when I arrived there at around 10:00, I found the place to have taken on the feeling of a ghost town. On the train, there were a goodly number of ramblers and I thought that this might be their destination, but I was to be very wrong: when I did disembark, there were more waiting to depart than what actually arrived. I took my time while ambling through this sleepy agrarian spot and dropped into the Offa's Dyke Centre, a spot nearly as quiet as everywhere else.
In fact, the aforementioned quietness was to pervade the most of my day's wandering. The sky indicated a day that was to be "iffy" on the weather front, but any predictions made based on its initial appearance were to be proved utterly wrong; the only rain encountered was the odd drop, if that at all. Once out of the Offa's Dyke Centre, I made my way north and, within minutes, I was in Shropshire and England was to play host to all of my footfall between then and my return to Knighton. Loosely defined plans are typical of my walking exploits, and this was no different: follow the Offa's Dyke Path north and turn around to return to the train station in time to get home again.
Along the way, I saw very few people and the weather kept getting better as I perambulated over the not so high English hills and looking west was all that was needed if wanted to see their Welsh counterparts across the Teme valley. The lack of stature in the hills didn't make any difference to the effort required to surmount them: a fact borne out by my progress up the not inappropriately named Panpunton Hill after crossing the Teme, a short stroll away from Knighton. From there on to Cwm-sanaham Hill, progress was gentler and serious up and down activity was deferred until the descent from the latter and the subsequent re-ascent.
It was not so far north-east of Llandair Waterdine that I decided that I had gone far enough north for the day and set to following Shropshire's public footpath network proper for a return to base. It was at this time that the cloud cover really started to break up to make up for some superb sunshine as I negotiated my way from field to field, never a strong point of mine. Crossing a minor road, I picked up a clear bridleway along which I continued on my way back to Panpunton Hill, Knighton and home. Everything was going well until confusion struck at a meeting of rights of way, for which nothing on the map seemed to represent where I was. There was only one thing for it: head west until I met the national trail along which I had been hiking earlier. A stone's throw was all it took to get me back to more familiar surroundings, and I am not certain how I ended up where I did, but I am inclined to suspect that a new public footpath may have been set up that the OS do not show on their maps. It's undoubtedly the sort of muddle that makes a GPS receiver very useful for confirming that you aren't going completely mad!
Once back on the Offa's Dyke Path, the journey was unremarkable apart from the descent of Panpunton Hill paining my tired knees. The sun remained out in force as I made my way through Knighton, the place now being more alive than it was earlier, to its train station for the 16:15 to Shrewsbury. With the weather as resplendent as it was, it seemed a pity to leave so early, but I had a good walk lasting more than five hours and the next train would have been at around 21:00 anyway. Nevertheless, I resolved that if the weather stayed as it was, I would stop off in Church Stretton for a quick nip into Carding Mill Valley with the idea of putting my camera to some use. That did happen, and I was leaving when the first of the forecasted "nasty" showers arrived.
From Church Stretton, I took a train to Stockport, although Shrewsbury's looking wonderful in the post shower sunshine had me sorely tempted. I stayed on the train, deciding that a quick run around with my camera (for most of the day, I had been working exclusively with film thanks to my DSLR running down its battery and my lack of foresight for not recharging the thing in time) wouldn't do the place justice anyway. Given that I travel this way regularly, the journey from Stockport to Macclesfield should have been routine, but I have encountered an incident verging on adventure before. This time, I was both lucky and unlucky to meet the first southbound Virgin departure from Manchester since 17:00; I was lucky that it ran on time but unlucky in that it was overcrowded. I inadvertently, and unusually for me, got on in the first class bit and, not realising that it was open to all anyway due to what happened earlier, I made my way to standard class on a very crowded train. If I wasn't on autopilot to an extent and knew more of what was going on, I would have stayed where I was, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty vision, isn't it? Anyway, a ten-minute journey like this is never going to spoil the memory of what was a good and varied outing, and I hope to head down that way again. The possibility of spending more time along the Offa's Dyke Path rears its head too.
