Fitness
14th November 2014 Earlier in the year, I had grand designs on a return to cycling after a break of nearly two years. What scuppered the plan was a lack of road cycling confidence that extended beyond not wanting to go pell-mell down hills, which always was the case. Saying that, I have managed a few circuits from my home that took in Bollington, but that is a far cry from daily commuting or travelling as far as the likes of Tatton Park near Knutsford or Lyme Park near Disley. What really is beyond me at the moment is an epic that takes me as far as Northwich or Chester.
Still, there has been a circuit from home that took in Gawsworth during March, as well as a bimble up and down Longdendale in May. Both of those tried out the fold-up Dahon that I got last January, so I am not done with cycling completely. In fact, Sunday saw me go around by Bollington on a short cycle that substituted for an aborted planned trot from the Cat and Fiddle Inn back home via Shutlingsloe. That was on a B'TWIN commuting bike that replaced the mountain bike that did day to day road travel duties for more than eleven years. The new one came to me from Decathlon in April and is a very nice machine with 24-speed gearing and lights powered by dynamos on the wheels. It has mudguards (a remarkable rarity these days) and a carrier too, so it is the type of bike that my parents might have fancied in their time. It certainly reminds me of a three-speed example arising from the same well of inspiration that I had in Ireland once upon a time.
Though I no longer trust its brakes, the mountain bike has not retired either. However, its role is very different from the one it used to have, and the cause fits in with the title of this entry too. For years, its commuting duties kept me more trim than I otherwise might have been with round trips of around fifteen miles a day, if not more. However, these had an Achilles heel in that I was put off cycling to and from work on wet days by a soaking on the way to work early on in my career. That was on a road bike whose gearing self-destructed and caused the acquisition of the mountain bike in 2002. Before then, it had served me well around Edinburgh and Skipton and around Cheshire too as well as on a single incursion into Derbyshire that set me on the road to hill walking in August 2000; it took me from Macclesfield to Buxton by way of the A537, possibly the highest that I ever have gone on a bike.
Dark evenings are not such an issue around Edinburgh but pose a different challenge on country A-roads. The result was that my commuting left the bike aside for the darker times of year and was taken up in earnest during drier spells on longer days. It meant that the benefits were not to be felt year round as they probably should to ward off any middle age spread.
What brought all this to mind was the fit of a new pair of trousers during the past summer; it started me wondering if I was beginning to need the next waist size up, and I baulked at the idea. That was enough to spur me into a kind of action. Walking was all very fine, but it was not bringing my level of activity back up to where it once was. My remedy was the acquisition of a B'Twin bike trainer, again from Decathlon. The mountain bike was attached to this, and I began to ease into spending some time on it. However, it probably is not the best of arrangements for silent running even after changing the back tyre to a quieter one; putting gaffer tape over the original might have made more sense, for I am not buying another bike for this job.
Ten minutes on the thing were quite enough at the start, such was my lack of fitness. Since then, the sessions have grown longer, and they are around the half hour mark these days. To some, that prospect would seem very dull, and it was the same for a younger me. A spot of reading of magazines balanced on the handlebar is enough to address any sense of impatience, though. Anything that helps me to spend time sorting my fitness has to be a good thing, and I always reproach myself for reading nearly as much as I could anyway.
So far, there have been results and I reckon that I feel fitter, though I'd rather have lost more flab than I have, so that's enough encouragement to continue. That it has given me a spurt of exploring hill country is another bonus because it did feel as if I were restricting myself to lower heights, as nice as they are. The summer weather we had this year helped too, despite it being at times a little hotter for walking than is ideal.
Nevertheless, I was lured out to places like Buttermere, Ullswater, St. Sunday Crag, Grasmere, Loughrigg Fell and Orrest Head during a good few Cumbrian excursions. Welsh locations like Ysgyryd Fawr, Sugar Load and Gower also saw me, as did Loch Etive and Mull in Scotland. Maybe I felt it was time that I got back into hill wandering ways while my fitness was improving. On its own, the subject never really got me excited because I suppose that the world of competitive sport felt a little sterile to me. It actually took outdoors explorations to get me walking through hill country, instead of looking in on it as if it were some niche sporting interest. It only was when I got to see hillwalking as a way to get into special quiet places with an attractive quiet spirit of their own that I really took to the activity. Being somewhere unique when ravishing light falls upon it has led to many happy memories, too. Fitness is not for boasting but is a means to an end, a way of ensuring that hill country visits can continue, and I keep adding to those soothing recollections.
Thoughts of Killarney
11th November 2014 Earlier in the year, I was surprised to see a book on Killarney National Park featured in an issue of Outdoor Photography. It was Norman McCloskey's Parklight. Though some of the images chosen by the magazine were not entirely to my taste, I still ordered a copy of the book for my inspection and there are photos in there that are more to my taste so it was a delightful acquisition. Deservedly, it got airtime on RTÉ Radio 1 in the home country of it's Limerick born author so I hope it has had an audience for the gems found between its covers.
In fact, it brought back memories of day trips to Killarney made with my parents when they still were able to do such things. the last of these was on a scorching Sunday near the end of May in 2010. That had us revisiting delights such as Moll's Gap, Lady's View, Muckross Park and other familiar haunts. Looking back on it now, it was fortunate that the day came that the course that life has taken since then meant that such things are less thinkable than they were in those days.
During two decades of visits, there were a multitude of visits to the aforementioned spots but that was not all. There was a mad car ride (in the family Nissan Sunny no less!) on the gravel track through the Black Valley and the Gap of Dunloe in the heel of an evening while the jarveys were calling it a day. That was not all there was on that day for it was a long drive that was undertaken and cows needed milking after we got home. We celebrated our parents' fortieth wedding anniversary with a boat trip on Lough Leane that started and ended at Ross Castle; the golden wedding anniversary sadly was beset by my father's ever increasing frailty. Torc Waterfall was visited of a greyer and damper day but was none the worse for that and there have been many, many more.
Nowadays, gallivanting as far as Killarney or other beauty spots in Ireland's south western corner have to be put on hold but McCloskey's book got me dreaming a little of the hospitalities offered by a short hotel stay in the town. Ross Castle and Muckross Park are near at hand so old haunts could be retraced. Not having to worry about the patience of a parent not so interested in walking would be liberating too so trots as far as the Meeting of the Waters. Passing Torc Waterfall to follow the Kerry Way out around Torc Mountain and others surrounding it, such as Mangerton. Of course, there would be more than this near Ireland's highest mountains, MacGillycuddy's Reeks. For now, these are dreams in search of an opportunity but no one has excursions without there being ideas beforehand so that never is a bad situation.
News of Walking World Ireland
10th November 2014 Everyone can have a hiatus and there has been a long one on here for entries like this one. In my case, it is not as if I have been away from hillwalking. As it happens, I have had more trouble motivating myself to write stuff on here than getting out among hills and there is a growing list of Trip Reports to Come too. What has happened is that procrastination has got in the way of my getting those additional outings shared and it gets worse as the list grows longer. In addition, an old bike of mine has found its way onto rollers in an effort to increase fitness and reduce flab. The former has been a success so far and the latter needs more in the way of effort so the bike trainer will not be left to gather dust like another road bike that I acquired in April but that was taken out on a short cycle between Macclesfield and Buxton yesterday.
The inspiration for this post though is an email that I unexpectedly received from the publisher and editor of a walking magazine that I thought was defunct: Walking World Ireland. My impressions led me to join Mountaineering Ireland to received its journal, Irish Mountain Log, as a substitute. However plans are afoot to get Walking World Ireland back on newsagent shelves again, albeit under a new guise of Mountain World Ireland. Here is the text of that email:
An apology and announcement to readers of Walking World Ireland
From November 28th:
Walking World Ireland will become Mountain World Ireland
As a subscriber to Walking World Ireland, you'll have noticed that the magazine has not been published for almost a year now - since the 2014 Annual.
As editor and publisher I want to apologise sincerely for this. We value every reader very highly, and it was only after a prolonged period of business difficulties that the decision to suspend publication was made. Since that moment it has been my clear hope and intention to return WWI to the shelves as soon as possible.
The reason I'm contacting you today is to let you know that the magazine is indeed making a comeback. I'm delighted to be able to say that, and I hope it will also come as good news to you.
From next month, Walking World Ireland will resume publication as Mountain World Ireland. It's a small change, reflecting a slight but exciting change in emphasis - largely the result of the countless conversations I've had with readers over recent months.
Mountain World Ireland will remain at its core a hillwalking magazine, celebrating, as ever, the beauty of Ireland's mountain landscapes and the pleasures and challenges they offer. But more, it will celebrate the wider world of mountain sports - the people and activities that inspire us as lovers of high places.
I hope and trust that this rebirth will meet with your approval, and will continue to inform, entertain and inspire you as WWI did. I want to thank all of you for the patience you have shown, and for the many, many expressions of support we have received from readers and subscribers. I hope to hear from you again with any comments you may have on our future direction. Anything, in fact, that you have to say.
Finally, I want to assure all of you with unfulfilled subscriptions that we will honour all our outstanding commitments, and if you're unsure where your subscription stands, do contact me at [email protected] or on +353 (0)86 805 4590.
Sincerely
Conor O’Hagan
Editor
Copyright © 2014 Mountain World Ireland, All rights reserved.
You are receiving this email because you have previously subscribed to Walking World Ireland
Our mailing address is:
Mountain World Ireland
10 Kickham Road
Kilmainham
Dublin,
Ireland
Some of the sentiments sound familiar so I will wait and see what becomes of these plans. An improving economic situation may help the new venture so I wish it well while intending to savour what is on offer. If anything, the WWI offer had gone a little repetitive so a refresh was needed anyway and a break often can make for a good reboot as has been seen with many a movie franchise. My Irish travel horizons may have been narrowed by life events over there in recent years but there may be a chance to do some explorations of my own yet.
As for the future of this outpost, I hope to get more trip reports shared and the summers of 2013 and 2014 came good enough to lure me out and about on welcome and much needed escapades. Usual haunts like the Scottish Highlands, the Lake District and the Peak District saw incursions along the Gower, Monmouthshire, Yorkshire and Northumberland. The perceived need for better photos drove quite a lot of these and the Lake District photo album is being rebuilt at the moment too. Also, there may have been visits to other places too and there are musings that I wish to mull over on here too once procrastination has been banished.
An eighth birthday
5th May 2014 This bank holiday weekend is being a quiet affair for me. With a cold to weather, it certainly has not been one for grand designs and the weather has not been sunny all the while either. Saturday was sunny around Macclesfield though and I got out for a local evening walk around by Prestbury. This time of year has much to offer, even to those not going at full power,
Yesterday saw me head to Alderley Edge for a walk around by Hare Hill. I may have followed the route in an anticlockwise direction instead of the intended clockwise one, but I was not along in doing so, and I left the best for the return section from Hare Hill. It really is very pleasant with a multitude of bluebells putting on a pretty display. A cantankerous Jack Russell terrier slightly spoilt things by giving me a nip around my left ankle, but that will fade in the fullness of time. A stop at the Wizard Tearooms for a bacon barm and a pot of tea made amends, and I chose a more off-road course back to the village to catch my bus home.
This blog is entering its ninth year and things have changed over the years. When I started it, hill wandering was something for which I had more time than I do today. Nevertheless, I still enjoy getting out and about, and there are trip reports to file. My last hill outing was near Llangollen in January, so it's well after time for another. If only life events offered a clearance, who knows where my mind may roam.
Currently, I am catching up with unread issues of The Great Outdoors and Outdoor Photography, so the shelf of ideas could get to see more on there. There are places like the Yorkshire Dales where I have not been for a while, and Cumbria's Lake District calls too. Summoning the energy to devise a scheme or more ahead of some alluring weather could produce results, so there are rewards for any display of courage regarding an immediate future. Life is for living, after all.
Same area, similar walks, different seasons
4th March 2014 In June and September of last year, I undertook two walks that followed similar routes. Both started from the Cat & Fiddle Inn between Macclesfield and Buxton before going over the top of Shining Tor. From Cheshire's county top, I dropped down to Lamaload Reservoir and it from there home that the routes diverged. My recollection of the weather on both days was similar apart from clouds hijacking the sky more effectively on the June day. In fact, inspecting photos has revealed much more cloud at the start of the June walk than I had thought so it was of little surprise when it got very handy at blocking the sun later on in the day.
There was another similarity too: prior weariness from the course of life. Though some good weather came at the end of May that was a harbinger of the summer to come, my energy had been sapped so I spent more time indoors than should have been the case. The Saturday of the Spring Bank Holiday weekend even saw me watching Terry Abraham's excellent The Cairngorms in Winter with Chris Townsend instead of being outside in the sunshine. With the summery weather outside my window, watching winter scenes did feel a bit odd and it took until Sunday evening before I got myself out and about. As I trotted up to Tegg's Nose, the heat was more like that of summer and I enjoyed a pleasant evening around there before I returned home again. Shutlingsloe and its surroundings just looked resplendent in the evening sunshine.
The sunny summer and the aftermath of my mother's passing had come together to ground me in September too and much of the rest of the year was taken up with sending out memorial cards of her to near relatives and anyone who gave us support during what was a tricky time for our family. There also was a major project kicking off at work that worried me, so that added to the load on my mind. Between all of these, I was flattened, but the last Sunday in September saw me out and about from the middle of the day until light failed. It was a stunning day with sunlight as strong as on a summer's day before the lengthening night made its presence well felt.
June 2nd
After that Spring Bank Holiday weekend torpor, I mustered up the energy to commence a stroll from the Cat and Fiddle Inn at midday on Sunday. Though forecast to be sunny, clouds got in the way for much of the afternoon. Even with a limited supply of sunshine, a walk remains a walk and I enjoyed what was ahead of me. Also, I was trying out a then new Pentax K5 II to see what it could do. Prior to that, it had been out on evening strolls in the Riverside Park in Macclesfield, so this was its first away trip.
The way from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to the top of Shining Tor is very familiar to me and I suspect it is the same for many others who appreciate the hills lying between Macclesfield and Buxton. Of a weekend, you'll never have it to yourself like I had on a weekday in December 2007. Then, I went all the way from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Whaley Bridge via both Shining Tor and Cat's Tor before dropping by Windgather Rocks into Kettleshulme and then leaving the unpleasant B5470 to follow the opposite side of Toddbrook Reservoir into Whaley Bridge. It is a walk that I fancy repeating even if I already have described it on here already.
What I had missed on that walk and any before it was a quick way from Shining Tor down to Lamaload Reservoir. The boundary of open access land overlaps with it as does a walk, so either might explain how I missed it for so long. After reaching the top of Shining Tor, I sought out this right of way and immediately set to losing the height that I had gained while taking in all that lay around me. That included the western flank of Cat's Tor as the sun dodged and ducked through cloud cover to issue intermittent lighting on the landscape. After reaching a saddle where a footpath towards the A537 crossed my line of travel, it was time to gain a little height again before I lost it again for good when dropping to the reservoir.
Once across the splendidly named Hooleyhey Lane, I dawdled by the reservoir in search of photos. With a long evening available, there was no need to rush so I lunched at the same time. Unfortunately, the cloud cover left slim pickings for making the sort of the photos for which I was hoping so I eventually got going again and made my way towards Rainow. That took me through woods to the north of Lamaload before I crossed a field, losing height as I did so. From this point, I was minded to head towards Ginclough and then to drop through Rainow by road. What changed my mind was the passing of a lad on a quad bike who I fancied leaving go his merry way undisturbed.
Instead, I got myself onto the works road using the public footpath diverting away from the works yard itself. This led me by Snipe House and onto Berristal Road before I reached the B5470 to the east of Rainow. The sun did its utmost to break out from time to time and delighted the senses whenever the feat was managed. The air was that of a peaceful summer's evening and it's the sort of sensation that lingers in a mind like mine. Looking behind me reminded me just how much wilder my surroundings felt at the start of the walk and how they contrasted with the relative domestication of the tree-lined fields that I was passing. Lamaload had been where moorland turned to pasture land and the latter was to accompany me most of the way home.
Crossing the B5470, I made as if to follow the Gritstone Trail north only to stay on a bridleway that took a lower course along Ingersley Vale with the River Dean for company as it had been since I left Lamaload Reservoir behind me. Others had the same idea as me but we were never in each other's way either. In time, I was deposited on the road near another stretch of the Gritstone Trail. From there, it was on tarmac into and through Bollington until I reached the Macclesfield Canal. Before I joined that, there was a stop at a shop for an ice cream that was enjoyed in Bollington's war memorial gardens.
The canal towpath was a busier place and I had a family in front of me, so my own impatience caused a swap over to the much broader Middlewood Way. Any sunnier interludes made this look like impetuousness but I must have wanted to walk at my own pace and not that set by others at the time. With alternative routes, there was little point in being a nuisance anyway. If there was plenty of room to let everyone enjoy the dry weather and the verdant greenery at their own pace, then it was better that way.
It may have been how far I had walked too because I was relishing progress and looked forward to reaching home where a longer post walk rest could be savoured. It had been a good walk on a good day. Later on, there had been relaxed serendipity that led me back from Rainow by a more interesting if indirect route than just following a road all the way into Macclesfield again. Photos of Lamaload Reservoir had to wait, but that was of little consequence when it was an excuse for another walk later on in the year.
September 29th
It may have been autumn during the reprise of the Lamaload hike, but there was a lot of the spirit of summer left in the air too. The day was much sunnier than it had been in June and it scarcely clouded over at all, at any point. Again, the start was a midday one, but the finish was a little after dark but I was under street lights by then anyway.
The route from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Lamaload Reservoir was identical to that followed in June with the exception being that there was more sunshine around. Knowing how long it would take had its uses too with the shortening days. No longer could one dawdle as one could with the longer hours of daylight in June. Still, that didn't stop me adding a twist to the walk later on either and being in familiar countryside meant that I had a sense of how things would take too. That applied in June and was a reason for much-needed relaxation.
More photographic success also was enjoyed at Lamaload this time around. In fact, the only slight irritation might have been the location of the sun in the sky. While a sun compass probably should have been used, sometimes it takes actual visits to see how lighting on landscapes actually works. With that extra knowledge, you can rethink the time of day for a visit, and I reckon a later one on a summer evening could have its uses so long as I can get home before dark. Buses are in short supply in the evening time so walking time would need to be allowed.
The route I took replicated that of the June walk as far as the foot of the reservoir, but a different course was taken from there. Instead, I followed a public footpath that shadowed the western side of the reservoir and passed Lower Ballgreave Farm. Around there, I fancied picking up another path to get to the A537 but nothing looked too promising and I headed to the single track road leading to Hooleyhey Lane instead. Leaving a Volkswagen camper van to struggle up the incline with cars behind it, I was after traffic free interludes. The narrow carriageway meant that there wasn't a lot of room when a vehicle came but I made it past Ankers Knowl Farm and found a path across a field in the direction of Greenways Farm.
After crossing both the old and new Buxton to Macclesfield roads, passing the aforementioned farm should have had me on a right of way heading directly for Forest Chapel. However, not seeing obvious signs of passage and, moreover, not wanting to be blundering about next to someone's house, I returned to the moderately busy Old Buxton Road and found another that skirted Whitehills to take me towards the same eventual destination. The start of that was an inviting, but a soggy sodden patch brought some navigation related head scratching and I might have been the cause of sending a hill runner in the wrong direction before I righted myself and went uphill to reach Charity Lane. Then, Forest Chapel was not at all far away and I dallied a while beside the hamlet's church before continuing on my way.
Though my direction of travel was towards Shutlingsloe, the elevated vantage point offered by the roadway I was now following was such that I could gaze back towards my starting point. Shining Tor may not be the most distinctive pile but dominated any eastward sight I chose to sample in the evening sunshine. Previous explorations had me sticking on either side of the crumpled landscape that I was surveying but never both. Sometimes, things come alive when you associate them like that.
There was one last hurrah away from tarmac for the day, and I got to revisit sights that I used to see more regularly, especially with a bike in tow. Another departure was being able to attach more accurate names to hills like Yarnshaw Hill and Buxtors Hill as I followed the concessionary path. It may have been getting late for a day in September, but many were out and about still. Car parks around Macclesfield Forest remained busy while some were starting to think about heading home.
My way home was ongoing, but there was one last visit that I needed to make. It was too late for me to make a trip to the top of Shutlingsloe though some were up there in the declining light. A nearby car probably meant that they could stay out later while I made do with a relative close up view of the distinctive hill. A walk from the top of Shining Tor to the top of Shutlingsloe and home again needed to wait, and my legs weren't too sorry about that either.
Light was well into the process of failing as I paced by Ridgegate Reservoir so I now had a sense of purpose about me. It hadn't stopped me savouring the ambience of the tree cover on the way down to Trentabeck Reservoir just a little earlier. Next up was Bottoms Reservoir, then on through Langley, by Sutton and Gurnett before the darkness was relieved by street lighting. A head torch was in my possession but not needing to use one is good too. The day had been good.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 58 from Macclesfield to the Cat & Fiddle Inn
