Three Trots about Tatton Park
23rd June 2013 During November and December of last year, I got to visit Tatton Park on no less than three different Saturday afternoons. It was the prospect of autumnal foliage on trees that drew me out on the first of these, though it took the second for that promise to become a reality. Life at the time was such that I was unable to summon the energy needed to go further afield on what were promising sunny days. Normally, I would explain this by referring to end of year fatigue, but things were happening over in Ireland that were playing on my mind too and quite a lot has changed over there for our family since then.
November 3rd, 2012
Sometimes, it feels that it takes more than one attempt before some things can be achieved. That probably shouldn't have been the case with my first attempt to enter Tatton Park via its Dog Wood entrance. Before then, things looked very promising, and The Moor did its best to detain me but I was focussed on the supposed plan in hand. In the end, I did walk the circuit around Tatton Mere, but not before a moment of madness brought on by a wrong turn. Only for stubbornness, I could have avoided soaking my footwear on soft ground and ripping a perfectly good jacket. Once at home later that evening, the trail shoes were dried and the jacket replaced in an attempt to assuage grumpiness at my own human frailty.
With the navigational flaw sorted, I was on the right track through Dog Wood with warning signs compelling walkers to stay on the track through the Site of Special Scientific Interest. That it was best to obey the signs was not at all lost on me because of my earlier blundering. The shore of Tatton Mere was not at all far away, though clouds had staged a takeover of the sky during my time spent among trees. Such was the cloudiness that my camera stayed largely inactive for the remainder of the day. Rounding the head of the mere, I made for the main park avenue. Dull skies would have given me little reason to stick around, and wet feet only gave me more reason to keep going.
That's not to say that photographic possibilities weren't logged because there were Melchett Meres and views towards Tatton Hall to be used. They were left for later as I got myself into Knutsford again. It was then that I realised that the clouds possessed a payload that was to be dropped: rain. That didn't stop the use of window shopping and trotting in and out of shops as a means to while away the time until the next bus to Macclesfield. It was during this that I spotted a branch of Rohan with winter down jackets in the window. Their water-resistant properties may have interested me but I was not in a mood for shopping after my self-inflicted mishap, so prices later were checked on the web. That investigation was enough to stall any impulse buying to the point that I discovered that a Mountain Equipment down jacket that I already own was water-resistant anyway, negating the need to add to my collection.
November 10th, 2012
Having dried out my footwear and replaced the ripped jacket, the next trip to Tatton Park was to be vastly more successful. For one thing, the sun stayed out for all of that afternoon until nightfall, which was a bonus. That I now knew the right way to the Dog Wood entrance to Tatton Park helped speed things too. That wasn't to say that I rushed by Knutsford Moor either, even if I wasn't dawdling either. On reaching the shore of Tatton Mere, I had to share space with a dog walker before moving further along. A later rise of ground came in useful for making whatever photos I could of Tatton Hall and overflying aircraft on their way from nearby Manchester Airport to whatever was their destination.
My amble then took me on towards Tatton's Old Hall and what remains on the ground of the old estate village that preceded the present day town of Knutsford. After that, I meandered through the deer park and herds of those animals were showing well. It was just as well that the rutting season was over with so many folk about to take in the sights of these majestic animals and views towards the hills lining the Cheshire-Derbyshire boundary. It was easy to pick out the likes of Shining Tor (Cheshire's county top as I was surprised to recently discover), Shutlingsloe and Croker Hill if you knew their outline and living in the area for more than a decade has given me that knowledge.
At the Memorial Stone commemorating the use of the Deer Park for parachuting practice during World War 2, I turned towards Tatton's New Hall and was granted many more deer sightings as I went that way. Others were taking their ease to look at the creatures too, even those in cars on their way into the park. At one point, I managed to spook a stag whose sight had entranced one of those car drivers, so my fieldcraft needs a lot more development and I hope that I didn't ruin anyone's day. Having had no altercation thanks to any clumsiness, I went around the new hall to discover a good location from which to make a close up photo of the grand house. However, fading evening light thwarted my attempts at capturing what lay before me and there was a wedding on there anyway, so having to leave for another time was no cause for complaint.
Then, I followed the southern shore of Melchett Mere and found boggy conditions as I did so. Being shod in boots and a knockabout pair of jeans meant any muddying was of no perturbation to my state of mind. Crossing the main avenue through the park, I made for a quieter path towards the gate, so there was no need for awareness of passing traffic. More views over Tatton Mere followed to complete a satisfying day. It was a world away from the disgruntlement that I had felt the week before and nothing but a sense of quiet satisfaction pervaded the bus journey home.
December 1st, 2012
At the end of November, my mother needed to go for a planned stay in hospital and it revealed some disturbing news about her health. That left me shaken by thoughts of her not being around with us for that much longer and thoughts turned to getting out for a walk somewhere in an attempt to clear my head. Hearing the sound of her voice on the phone again after she returned home was undoubtedly the lift that I needed and it's a memory that I treasure all the more now that she no longer is with us. While she was shaky over the Christmas and New Year period, she did seem to rally afterwards and grow a little stronger. However, it was an infection in March that returned her to hospital for the final time and meant that a new life had to be constructed without her being there for us.
Ironically, I went and pulled a cracker when it came to the weather that I had for that Tatton Park visit for it was an afternoon of unrestricted sunshine with clear blue skies overhead. If anything, it appeared that the weather was doing its utmost to brighten my life and I made plenty of photographic use of the sunny conditions. The walk was a variation of those I had done before with my mind being set on getting near Tatton Hall before the sun became too low in the sky. The itinerary took me through Knutsford, by The Moor, though Dog Wood and along the shore of Tatton Mere. The trees were more bare than was the case in November, but stragglers of leaves were hanging on, so autumn was not a memory just then anyway.
Once at the head of Tatton Mere, I crossed the main estate avenue to pick up a good path to the north of Melchett Mere and so avoided the boggy patches that I crossed on my previous visit. Plenty of folk were out and about and planes flying overhead, but neither detracted from the splendour that surrounded me and there was more to come.
Tatton Park may have its own herds of deer but I wasn't expecting the sight that greeted me and I approached my vantage point for Tatton Hall: some stags walked ever nonchalantly one after another as they crossed from one patch of rough pasture to another. That the autumn rut was well ended was proven by their ignoring a throng of hinds who grazed just by the hall. It was a magical encounter that added to my seeing the hall well lit by the sun. Trees may have been in shadow but it was a matter of making the best of what was there and to grumble would have been most ungrateful.
With photographic errands completed, I started to make my way back towards Knutsford again. This time around, I passed a folly named The Temple before continuing towards Moss Plantation and noting any signs instructing folk against going right through it so as not to disturb tree roots. Being at a certain elevation affording good views of the hills near Macclesfield from over Tatton Mere. It's a viewpoint worth exploring again now that summer is with us.
While going this way, I found a freshly lost woollen glove that got handed in at a booth on my out in case anyone wished to get it back again. More likely, the owner gave up on it but I thought it to be better to get it in out of the weather anyway. With that piece of civic mindedness completed, I went into Knutsford with ample time to spare before the next bus. It was the sort of day that you'd be thinking of lingering, but that wasn't my state of mind at the mind. The outing had been restorative and that was what was asked of it. Before I left for home, I tried out the fare at the café in Booth's supermarket and it set me up well for the evening too.
More?
Since the passing of my mother, there has been a lot of walking with Derbyshire taking up a well-deserved amount of my attention for longer outings. Cheshire is doing its bit too, especially with lunchtime and evening strolls though there have been longer trots through nearby hills too. So far, there hasn't been a return to Tatton Park, though I do fancy the thought of visiting earlier in the day after a spot of breakfast in Knutsford (maybe Booth's, but there are other places). There is more photography that can be done and we have a different season now too. Spring is past us for 2013 so it's a question of being more selective about times of day to get the best light and you can get over constraints like those. Life itself goes on and restorative walking always has a place.
Travel Arrangements:
Return trips on bus service 27 between Macclesfield and Knutsford.
A little something for knocking around
17th June 2013 My first pair of walking boots were suede items from Salomon and I have stuck with them until long after that suede began to crack up due to wear and tear. Once they seemed too worn to be taken out on more demanding hikes, they were relegated to low level nearby trots. Currently, they reside at my place of work though I never really got to using them for lunchtime escapades in the likes of Lindow Common or The Carrs.
The hill wandering duties originally performed by those Salomons are now undertaken by a pair of Meindl Burmas that now are beyond four years of age and look as if they have many more miles in them yet. The leather may be scuffed and the soles showing a share of wear, but neither is anything that precludes their use on longer hill wandering outings. Prior to my fitting them with Superfeet insoles, they always felt hard on my feet at the end of long walks. That was something that I put down to my getting them in a sale for around £100 and does not stop my buying more boots with the Meindl name on them.
Even with that hardness more or less addressed, wearing them on lower level walks does feel like overkill. For that reason, I have been considering the option of fabric boots for those lower level walks. A review comparing a selection of such items caught my eye in Country Walking recently and what really surprised me were the prices; many cost more than my Meindls. Paying £150 for a pair of fabric boots is not that different from the amount of money that leather boots cost so I was resigned to remaining on the fence unless a tempting offer came my way.
Yesterday, such a thing did happen: I saw pairs of Regatta Crossland Mid boots on sale for £32 each in Matalan yesterday. Even without knowing that the recommended retail price was £70, it looked a good deal and I settled on a size 9 pair in grey and black for myself (size 8 ones felt a little too cosy around the toe for my liking). The soles do have chunky lugs and there is own-brand waterproofing, but my intended use for these is for low-level strolling when conditions get a little too muddy for trail shoes. Already, the new boots have been out on a short stroll by the River Bollin and there are no complaints from me about them so far. That revealed that the soles are not the stiffest since it was possible to feel the ground over which I was travelling, especially on gravel tracks. Because there have been times when stiff soles have divorced my feet so much from the ground under them that confidence in their gripped is dented, I am not complaining about this hint that these are not mountaineering boots. The main thing is that they fit me and that the lacing secures my feet in them.
While I get to make more use of the Regattas, I may add a stronger pair of fabric boots to their number. It'll stay on the back burner for now because there are plenty of other higher priority matters in life for me at the moment. A wish list never is a bad thing to possess either, though.
An archaeological dig
6th June 2013 It's a lovely sunny summer evening as I write this and there have been times when I was out and about in the sunshine during the past few weeks. Last Sunday afternoon saw me trot from the Cat and Fiddle Inn back to my house. Spying a useful right of way that dropped me down from Shining Tor to Lamaload Reservoir was the cause of taking me around there though my hopes of seeing the former in sunshine largely came to not as much as I'd hoped. However, there was sun to be enjoyed while I was around Shining Tor and a peaceful atmosphere pervaded much of the walk so I wasn't embittered. There was no rushing about either as I continued to Rainow and then along Ingersley Vale to Bollington. The Macclesfield Canal and the Middlewood Way were what conveyed me much of the rest of the way home without the itinerary feeling overly long. In fact, I can foresee another wander by Lamaload happening when a chance offers itself.
The previous bank holiday weekend should have seen me do more with it but for fatigue and computer tinkering taking from my resolve. The greatest extent of my outdoors wandering wasn't to be limited to various shopping errands or watching Terry Abraham's The Cairngorms in Winter with Chris Townsend, though. The latter turned out to be a pleasing use of time with there being plenty of stunning countryside to ogle; the quality of the film footage was stunning. While the Cairngorms were the star of this film, Chris got to draw us to the area by tracing his love of wild country. The realities of camping (it includes bothy usage), walking, snowshoeing and skiing in winter mountains got a necessary airing and the featuring of a walk through the Lairig Ghru that was abandoned was no harm either. If that was insufficient, there is a wealth of social outdoors history surrounding the Cairngorms that could have been added too, but the sparing of that probably got us looking at the scenery more closely. After all, that was centre stage in this production and with a stirring soundtrack too. It probably was odd to be enjoying this film with sunny weather outside, and that's how it was, but I was lured out as far as Tegg's Nose on the Sunday evening. Just like a warm summer evening among Scottish hills, it too was quiet and peaceful as I took in the views towards Shutlingsloe on a circuit that took me by Langley and Sutton along paths and tracks that I have travelled a fair few times, so often that I hardly need a map for these any more.
Alongside all of this and midweek evening walks around Macclesfield's Riverside Park, I got the idea of adding more details to photos featured in the site's photo gallery. These include the camera used and the date that the photo was made. The first of these is not too hard to recall, but dates have been the more trickery because there have been times when I have wondered if part of my memory managed to fall into some sort of black hole. The blog certainly has helped from mid-2006 on and the move to digital photography almost nails your dates for you. Before both of those, unless a certain scarcity of trips, coincidence with a memorable event or the imprinting of dates on photos helps. There also is the trawling of old emails (yes, inertia has meant that more of these have been retained than might seem conventional) to see when train tickets were booked and peering at now historical calendars. The last two of these especially have a more archaeological feel to them, hence the title of the post. The fact that dates do not surface without some effort for trips between 2004 and 2006 is a reminder to me that I should be thinking of improving records for the future. After all, you never know what another bout of stress can do to a memory and, like anyone, I have had a share of that in recent years.
The addition of that extra information to the photo gallery continues and some refreshed or new photos are to come online too when all is done. Looking at those older photos has another effect too. When you see a photo and think that it can be improved, then a trip idea emerges. It already has been the cause of retracing some steps in the Peak District and it may be that 2013 could be a year spent exploring more of this alluring part of the world. What has been in my mind for a little while is a potential walk from Edale to Hayfield or Glossop that follows Grindsbrook Clough at the start so as to replace a photo that dates from the Summer bank Holiday Monday of 2001. Hopefully, it can happen before we lose the current run of good weather. There also is walking north along the West Highland Way from Bridge of Orchy, at least as far as Kinlochleven, to see if I can better photos from previous outings along the route of that well trodden trail. With the way life is going for me now, that is a longer-term ambition and it's always good to have them.
Things may be quieter on here these days, but the walking continues and I need to add a number of trip reports, as you can see from the Trip Reports to Come page. What's needed is the summoning of energy and it's hard to commit to scribbling them when sunshine is peering in your window as it is this evening.
Better late than never
14th May 2013 If you are a magazine publisher, it helps if you can do so on a regular schedule. Walking World Ireland has fallen foul of that more than once within the last year, and it has taken five months for the current issue to arrive, both to subscribers and to shops. Last year's annual featured multiple walking routes taken directly from Collins Press' series of walking guides, instead of coming from regular contributors such as Dennis Gill and Tom Hutton. That left me wondering if financial troubles were the cause of that, though the content wasn't any less useful as a result.
For any struggling magazine, an irregular publishing schedule is the sort of habit that needs breaking. It also was one that afflicted the now defunct Cycling World magazine, and it leaves a gap in the marketplace these days. If you were after a magazine that prioritised route features over cycling kit, then this would have been the one to have. Now that it's gone, it appears that coverage and reviews of new bikes and other pieces of equipment is what sells, and that the experience of getting out in the countryside to clear your head is playing second fiddle.
Thankfully, walking is more about the experience of being outside in the countryside than about the kit that you use. The result has been that we are keen to read about new routes and the experiences of others. Walking World Ireland has done well on both counts for as long as I have known it and gives prominence to a country whose countryside deserves it. Reassuring, the latest late edition has something of the character to which I have come to expect of the magazine. There are two routes from a long-standing regular contributor (Tom Hutton) and Andy Callan is doing gear reviews. EastWest Mapping still supplies route maps, so things feel as if they may be returning to normal.
However, there are changes afoot too, and these are described in an otherwise apologetic editorial. The publishing frequency is set to go from bimonthly to quarterly, and a digital edition is planned too. Hopefully, that will be available for Android tablets (there is a Nexus 7 in my possession) and that blinding by iPad isn't witnessed as has been the case for other magazines. It sounds as if the last few months have been difficult ones for a magazine that has been with us since 1993, so I hope that it has a future in uncertain economic times. Hopefully, the ample amount of satisfying Irish walking will continue to have a place on new stands because it is more than deserved. With subscriptions priced now from €18, the offering looks more attractive than it ever did.
Update 2013-05-20: Cycling World magazine has turned out not to be as defunct as I thought that it was; the May issue is out now, and I have a copy in my possession after a visit to the Macclesfield branch of W H Smith on Saturday. However, the Walking World Ireland website is down as write these words, so that's not a happy harbinger for its continued existence after there being a troubled year for the magazine.
Update 2013-06-09: Walking World Ireland has got its website up and going again, so all is looking more promising. Now, let's hope things stay that way for them...
Within a landscape of loss
14th April 2013 It's been quiet on here since last February and part of the cause has been a life event. Within the last few weeks, my aged mother passed away after a short illness. There were other underlying medical problems too so we couldn't expect the increasingly frail lady to be around forever. Yet, she went quicker than we would have grown to expect. In fact, it was my father who was of greater concern with his nearly dying on us at the start of January. Miraculously, he came from that but still needs round the clock nursing care. That has placed him in a nursing home and it's not something that he is accepting easily; every so often, we have the pain of him inventing schemes to get away from there and it's very far from being a bad example of the breed. Loneliness, grief and perhaps a certain amount of homesickness may be behind his ever more desperate and worrying suggestions. He cannot live as he did before so it would be great to see him settle where he is.
It's at times like these that a good natter with a friend can mean so much, especially someone who intimately knows a little of the situation that is being faced. Also, there's trotting through the countryside. Most of these are short strolls in nearby parks in Wilmslow and Macclesfield. There is something about purposeful striding that gets stress out of your system (much better than taking it out on someone else anytime) while also allowing a bit of head clearing thinking. Amusing encounters with other folk's dogs lift the spirit too.
There was a longer trot in the sunshine of last Saturday from Hayfield to Glossop via Coldwell Clough, Kinder Reservoir, William Clough and Doctor's Gate. It was the prospect of going through a less peopled countryside that was the cause of drawing me there. There wasn't complete desertion though, even if there was more than plenty of space for everyone. It granted me the long episodes of solitude that allowed for gazing upon the surrounding moorland and dealing with any unevenness in the terrain; the Doctor's Gate footpath was a little tricky due to subsidence and areas of banked snow, but most of my course was less taxing than this, even those snow banks I found higher up William Clough. Mostly, I wasn't concentrating much on where my legs needed to travel and more on enjoying the experience of being out and about, of feeling that not all life comes to a stop when a loved one is lost.
Hopefully, there will be more of those longer outdoor escapades. My mother may wonder at where I went but she loved the outdoors too. Scenic parts of counties Kerry and Cork were particular favourites, but Connemara and Wicklow saw their way into her canon as well. She was the one who most appreciated any souvenir volumes of landscape photos that I ever brought as gifts. The last of these that I ever gave to her came from a trip to the Isle of Man, a gift for Mother's Day. Of special delight to her was the exposure to sea air with many a trip to Irish seaside destinations such as Ballybunion, Beale, Ballyheigue and Banna (all in County Kerry as it happened, and she was a Corkwoman) resulted from this desire. Though I do coastal walking, I have never been a seaside person with my own preferences causing day outings to Gougane Barra and Killarney. In fact, the best ever visit to the latter also had the best weather of a hot sunny Sunday in May 2010. With a decline in my father's well-being, that was our last such trip like that together and its memories are all the more important now.
It is from my parents that I got the hill country bug that has been the cause of so many excursions. Times may be trying now but they also may be the cause of my getting out and about more too. In times past, it may have caused some conflicts of its own, but the head clearing properties of a good walk are more than apt right now.
