A Weekend Around Cowal: Sunday
25th November 2011 Being stiffer on a day that fitted in a lot of walking doesn't mean that you have to be grounded as this piece hopefully will prove. Having alluring weather certainly helps, of course, as does the proximity of some attractive countryside where you can trot largely undisturbed. Hopefully, what follows will show that you don't need to go too far away from Dunoon to escape in among some hills. In fact, it was handy that no form of transport other than walking did the trick for it was a little later in the day by the time that I did get out for a longer hike.
A Sunday Morning Opener
As if to loosen limbs after the previous day's exertions, I took the chance to walk along the shore from Hunter's Quay to the war memorial at Lazaretto Point on that morning. Even with tired limbs, the beauty of the morning was unmissable and I got to enjoy what I had seen from a bus the day before at a much slower pace. Views across Holy Loch towards Strone and Blairbeg Hill were in abundance, though their being to my east didn't make photography so easy. In time, hills towards the north-west came into sight. Nothing might be all that high around these parts, but any hills do rise steeply from the floors of the glens that go through them, so their ascent is an energetic task. Reaching Lazaretto Point revealed further views up Strath Eachaig and more than me were wandering about the place too. With the vistas on offer, that was no surprise and I stopped on a nearby beach for a little while too before retracing my steps again.
To Glen Kin and Back
That morning stroll wasn't the limit of my Sunday walking around Dunoon since it and a little rest had loosened my legs a little. In fact, I decided to explore some of the wooded hills behind the town itself. My entry point to their coniferous cloak was near Sandbank and there was heat to be felt too as I gained height. Signposts were there to be surveyed too, though the trees did cut down on any views of the surrounding countryside; all that was available were peepholes. If an enclosed world away from that of the everyday is what you need, then this could be cathartic.
Destinations on those signs included the likes of Dunan, where a clearing is shown in my O.S. Explorer map, so vistas may be available (maps may not keep up with tree cover though, so actually going there would be the best way of confirming this), and Glen Kin. It was the latter towards which I was headed as I lazily gained height and negotiated twists, turns and junctions.
As I was rounding Strone Saul, the quality of the track deteriorated due to ongoing forestry operations. There was plenty of wet mud about and, though the views were more open, the effects of tree harvesting were there to be surveyed too. Photography here wasn't going to be as straightforward as on the slopes of normally open and largely untouched hillsides. Height started to be lost too as I dropped towards the floor of Glen Kin. This was something about which I wasn't all that happy because height loss can mean later height gain too and I was conscious of having tired legs, not that they dominated my thoughts at all often over the course of the afternoon and evening.
Glen Kin became a place that I was to have to myself and it too showed signs of tree harvesting. That meant views all around me were more open than before the operations started and hummocks like Bishop's Seat were easy to see. The strength of the sun remained discernible as I gained height on rounding the head of the glen. After the chill felt the day before, it was a change to feel some heat instead. A track that would have taken me down right alongside Glenkin Burn had been rejected in favour of a higher return route.
While I may have played with the idea of climbing the slopes to Bealach na Sreine to gain views down Inverchaolain Glen towards Loch Striven, a reassessment of the time of day meant that these ambitions were left unrealised. However, I did see a sign for the track that I would have used and got to pondering a day out that would involve starting from my hotel and making my way to Inverchaolain where I would start walking up the glen that carries its name to reach the aforementioned bealach and return to Dunoon from there. Of course, that's something for another time, but walks and walking ideas can spawn even more walking ideas. Hopefully, I'll be able to use at least some of the ones that have emerged in my mind in this way. Reconnaissance always is good.
Following that higher level route from the head of Glen Kin brought me onto the B836 near Clachaig. Though that is the road that one would follow to get to Dunoon to the Isle of Bute or to Portavadie for a crossing to Tarbert on the Mull of Kintyre, it was quiet at the hour that I was using it as my return route to Dunoon. Though tarmac bashing doesn't give the best of walking experiences, taking it steady meant both progress and having time to savour my surroundings so it wasn't so bad. In fact, the same approach was to accompany me all the way back to Dunoon that evening.
Monday saw me head home again after a weekend with a few hikes fitted into the few days. After having pondered spending a weekend in Cowal for a while and remembering that first glimpse while walking along the Kintyre Way from Claonaig to Tarbert, it certainly was no disappointment. In fact, there are other places that I can explore around there, so a return remains a possibility once I get the time to construct some sort of plan. Of course, such designs always are subject to change, but that can produce memorable and enjoyable surprises too.
Travel Arrangements:
Ferry from Dunoon to Gourock followed by a train journey from there to Macclesfield with changes at Glasgow, Preston and Manchester.
A Weekend Around Cowal: Saturday
24th November 2011 My Easter weekends often come in two halves: Friday and Saturday are always spent at home while Sunday and Monday see me go away somewhere. Sometimes, I extend the four-day weekend with another to make my getaway longer. This year, that didn't happen because of work commitments but I got to spend some time around Llangollen anyway and I already have told about that.
However, this year was rather unique in that we got two four-day weekends in succession. In fact, many also took holidays on the three days between them and they got glorious weather too. That's not to say that I was envious because, on Holy Saturday, I had got around to planning a trip away that sampled some of this over that extended Mayday bank holiday weekend.
While many were watching the Royal wedding on television, I was making my way up to Dunoon in Cowal. While crossing by ferry from Gourock to Dunoon, I'd have been forgiven for thinking that I might have made a foolish choice because sunshine over Cheshire had been left for grey skies over the Clyde. However, I was anything but put off by this and I seem to remember being rather hopeful that brighter skies were to come my way on subsequent days.
From Ardentinny to Loch Goil
The next morning, my faith was rewarded with blue skies and sunshine. What was missing was warmth but you cannot expect everything in the months of April or May. The short bus ride to Ardentinny sheltered me from that chill, leaving me to admire the views north-west from Holy Loch and wonder if it would have been better to have walked as far as Sandbank before taking the bus around Holy Loch and up the coast to the starting point for my first walk of the day; there were two.
On getting off the bus, I soon found my way away from the road to a useful path that escorted me away from tarmac. The road may not have been that busy but it usually is better to enjoy the glorious sunshine without having to remain alert to the passage of motorised traffic. The steep wooded sides of Stronchullin Hill were close at hand as I passed behind houses to make my way towards Finart Bay. While rounding that, I was able to look towards the remains of Glenfinart House and part of the glen surrounding it. Until it became the victim of a fire in 1968, it was a hotel, but now only the tower remains with a caravan site surrounding it. It seems a pity that a nice-looking house would meet this end.
Not too long into my hike, I reached the way into the Ardentinny and Glenfinart part of the Forestry Commission's Argyll Forest. There were some folk about, but the place was far from being overrun. Signs of car camping were there to be seen and I suspect that the overnight campers were in no rush to move away on such a lovely morning, and who'd blame them? I must admit to lingering a little myself as I perused a useful sign showing the various circular walks that are available to visitors to this conifer plantation.
After dallying for those moments, I set off uphill on a track by Stronvochlan. Insofar as I remember it now, I resisted the temptation to pick up any paths that lead away from the track to stick with the (nearly) straight and not so narrow. Looking at the map again as I write this, I spot another path that takes a more direct route than the roundabout one that I took. However, there are times when shortcuts can take longer I otherwise cannot recall why I didn't take that route. In any case, it wasn't as if I was short of time anyway, so taking longer over the stroll wasn't going to be an issue and it's better not be rushing things anyway. I go out among hills to leave the hurly-burly of life after me, not to bring that along as well.
While following vehicle tracks through conifer plantations wouldn't strike some as being all that appealing, I wasn't bothered. There weren't many folk passing the way so peaceful solitude was easily gained and views weren't obstructed all the way either. In fact, looking behind as I rested while going uphill gained me views towards surrounding hills like Beinn Ruadh. Those over Loch Long weren't all obstructed either or recent harvesting operations opened them out even more. These came in very handy for checking progress, something that I tend to do all the time while I am on a walk anyway.
Progress assessment always is easier if you have landmarks that are marked on your map and there was one that was to be unmissable: an electricity line that crosses Loch Long. While I do have reservations about sending power lines through hill country, they can act as useful handrails and the way that this one crossed a sea loch amazed me. After all, I am wondering how they managed to set it in place in the first place and then there's the matter of the effects of strong winds on an unsupported span extending over a distance of around one kilometre. After that, there's the matter of pylons sticking out from hillsides like stalks, ever seeming to be in perpetually frozen motion over the undulations of the landscape.
It was after passing under that long span that the track that I was following was to reach its end according to my O.S. map. However, I never got to see if it did so because I picked up a well constructed path leading to Carrick Castle. That meant height loss too and it wasn't that gradual in the initial stages. At the same time, I was turning from Loch Long into Loch Goil and it wasn't done without views of the small hill across the water from me, Clach Beinn and its wooded slopes. My path mat have cut the corner that is Rubha nan Eoin but taking the turn still took its time. There was no rush though, so level ground could come along in its own good time.
Reaching that more level terrain took me out of the forestry and I was among fields again. Carrick Castle was well in view at this stage as I passed the low fingers of land that are Roin Diomhan and Ardnahien. Loch Goil and the steep-sided hills that surrounded it were looking resplendent in the bright sunshine too. Enjoying that scenery occupied my mind and allowed progress to come when it did rather than hurrying the experience. In fact, my return to tarmac didn't take long to come and, though Dunoon was not so far down the coast from me, the atmosphere had the tranquillity more like that of a far-flung Scottish island than somewhere not all that far away from the bustle of Scotland's central belt.
Rather than walking up the narrow road from Carrick Castle towards Lochgoilhead, I lingered at the former and awaiting a bus. What I had in mind was to walk along part of the Cowal Way to Strachur (or Clachan Strachur as it appears on my O.S. Explorer map). In hindsight, I might have done the right thing in spending a few hours around Carrick Castle because the bus ride to Ardroy Outdoor Centre convinced me that walking along a narrow undulating coastal single-track road wouldn't have been the best of experiences with motorised traffic about.
Staying at Carrick Castle also allowed more time for soaking in the views as the occasional sailing boat glided on the surface of the loch. The castle itself is privately owned, and rusted scaffolding is sufficient evidence of an unfinished restoration. It served me as a reminder of other similar projects that did get completed, Duart Castle on Mull and Eilean dona Castle in Lochalsh are but two of them. Not many were passing the way though there was one family party around for a little while before they headed away again. Later, a few folk collected to set up seating for a community event.
When the bus came, the driver took a break and his camera was pressed into service for a few photos in the fine weather. Patiently, I waited for him to get back to his bus before boarding it for that short trip up the coast, not that my request seemed to impress him that much if I sensed it correctly. Nevertheless, the journey was far from unpleasant and didn't take long on a road well shaded by tree cover.
From Loch Goil to Strachur
Once off the bus, I needed to get my bearings. There have been times when this process hasn't been too successful and some blundering resulted before I set things to rights. It was for that reason that I took my time with the task. There was a Cowal Way waymark, but its partner was absent and this informed me that good map reading was going to come into its own for keeping things under control.
After satisfying myself regarding the direction to be taken, I set off towards Lettermay and then into the forestry plantation that hugs the hill of Cruach nam Miseag. Height was gained with views over Lochgoilhead opening out before me every time I looked behind me as I shadowed Lettermay Burn. Even Ben Arthur, or The Cobbler, started to raise its head from behind the hills lining Loch Goil. The strength of the sun was unmissable at this point, though it wasn't to feel like that for all the walk.
Looking at the course of the Cowal Way, I was surprised to see it eschew forestry tracks to shadow the burn more closely. However, that brought me an experience reminiscent of a Welsh outing in January with trees getting in my way. It left me wondering at the sense of the routing and caused me to cross the burn to reach a promising track that lay over there. When that veered uphill and away from the burn that was my navigational handrail, I decided that a return to the route shown on the map was in order.
This was clearer than earlier, though there were soft conditions underfoot at times. In time, I left the trees behind me to really gain height on the approach to Curra Lochain. This really was when height began to be gained and steeply too. Marker posts also started to appear and it occurred to me that these might be waymarks for the trail that I had been following, after a fashion.
Taking my time and not letting the vistas that lay behind me go without being admired, I scaled the slopes along by what now was known as Sruth Ban and passed its waterfalls as I did so. Once the lochan was reached after crossing a stile and negotiating a tricky section of path, it was the force of the wind that could not be ignored. A passing hill wanderer was coming the other way and we shared a few words before each continued to our own destinations. Though I was watching time, there were no restrictions on opportunities to take in the splendour of what surrounded me.
Marker posts and map guided me back among trees again. Because the vehicle track that I was seeking didn't reveal itself so clearly to I was to reach it in a less tidy manner than might have been ideal. Part of exploring anywhere would seem to be correcting one's little directional slippages even if that involves going down to a burn and back up again. On re-examining the map as I write these words, I could have continued following my line of travel and reached the track later on and lower down but I like to resolve any uncertainties as soon as I can.
Once on the intended track, it was a matter of keeping an eye on any junctions so as not to go astray. As my legs were feeling the effects of the descent, the sun was leaving places in shadow. There were occasions for refuelling stops too because it looked as if I was going to make my bus back to Dunoon. Time was being managed rather than its being the cause of rushing.
Crossing over a bridge over Cab Riogan got me onto a single track tarmac road whose surface was far from smooth until I stopped being surrounded by trees. There was a sighting of a curious sign for Scottish and Southern Electric. Had they both the forests with an eye on future wind-powered electricity generation? While that would have been an ominous note, the peace and quiet of the evening allowed me not to dwell on the prospect.
Tiring limbs carried me into Strachur with time to spare before the bus was due. That gave me time to mill around the spot a little. There might have been temptations to head down the A815 to Strachur Bay and the shore of Loch Fyne. Realising that I had done a lot in one day with two different walks, I contented myself with resting a while and looked forward to seeing the countryside through which I was to be taken back to Dunoon in the declining light.
Travel Arrangements:
Travel from Macclesfield to Gourock by train with changes in Kidsgrove, Crewe and Glasgow, followed by ferry from Gourock to Dunoon. Buses around Cowal included 480 between Dunoon and Hunter's Quay, 485 from Hunter's Quay to Ardentinny, 484 from Carrick Castle to Ardroy Outdoor Centre, 486 from Strachur to Dunoon.
Trip reports in progress
23rd November 2011 A weekend may have been spent around Cowal during the spring but it has taken until now to get the trip report more or less written, such has been the course that my life has taken. Just setting down the words took me back to that weekend and even to other walking trips where peace and quiet were abundant. That ambiance made it feel far, far away from the pressures of modern life and even recalling them is enough to distance myself from everyday cares and concerns. It's the sort of thing that makes me want to undertake new trips featuring more of the same.
Though there may have been only two days of walking, there has been enough of the account written, that a single posting would be very long so I am splitting it. After those entries, I need to share other outings too: Northumberland & Scottish Borders, Isle of Man, Northwest Wales and Gower. These may date from a few months ago but the pleasant experiences of walking out in the countryside remain fresh, as I discovered while reliving those I enjoyed around Cowal.
In recent months, my excursions into the countryside have been around Macclesfield and involved cycling rather than walking. That there has been so much sunny weather this past autumn has made these snatches possible, though it would have been nicer to have had longer escapades too. Even the shorter local ones have left me with ideas to follow up such as an out and back stroll from Alderley Edge to Hare Hill and overlooking Pott Shrigley from Nab Head. Both are short outings but they could come in handy on the short days that abound this time of year. Of course, I feel the need to go further afield but I need to do some pondering and planning before something comes of that; a certain Cameron McNeish is editing a new magazine called Scottish Walks that could come in handy as will the ones that I usually consult. Before and during those though, there are some trips to share.
Not the end of the matter
18th August 2011 It often happens to me that relating an outdoors outing can bring forward ideas for more. In this regard, my recent trip report for an Easter outing to Llangollen was typical. For one thing, it revealed what parts have yet to see my footfall, but there's more to it than that. Also, I took the opportunity to freshen up the Denbighshire album in the photo gallery that you can find on here. That act revealed a certain amount of dissatisfaction with photos that I already have in my collection, especially from those times before the arrival of digital photography swayed me from the use of film. Addressing a perceived need for better photos often is sufficient for getting me revisiting places already frequented.
Speaking of returning to come away with better photos, Derbyshire's countryside has been one such target that has lain in my mind for a while but it now has been joined by a few of Denbighshire's delights. Walking the Offa's Dyke path from Trefor to Ruthin is just one of the brainwaves that have come to me because there is the Clwydian Way and the Dee Valley Way to keep me busy too. In fact, these could help me identify the hills in the above scene that I captured from amid the ruins of Castell Dinas Brân over six years ago. That point was driven home to me even more by an inability to figure out which top is which in photos of those hills captured last April while following part of the North Berwyn Way, yet another trail with more potential for hill wandering. After all those possibilities, there's the Clwydian hills by Ruthin and Denbigh to be sampled too. This time last year may have seen me run out of both energy and ideas, but that at least the latter doesn't seem to be recurring a year later. Hopefully, there should be a bit of ambling this autumn, not that I am one to wish the year away just yet and I wonder if too many are doing exactly that at times.
Revisiting Llangollen
14th August 2011 Though there were a few years when I made a good number of visits to the area, Llangollen seems to have slipped off my radar in recent times. What made those earlier attentions come about were some designs on exploring the hills surrounding Dolgellau that began to come into my mind at the start of 2004. When first attempts to make that happen in the spring of 2005 proved to be abortive, I consoled myself with a few Sunday day trips to Llangollen instead. What caused Llangollen and the countryside surrounding it to come to mind was that my preferred route to Dolgellau passed that way and drew my attention to what lay undiscovered around there.
That set in place a pattern that dominated subsequent walks around there afterwards. Both Valle Crucis Abbey and the Llangollen Canal have been part of those various trots, but that hasn't been all. The idea of walking from Llangollen to Ruthin (Rhuthun in Welsh) even sprang to mind and resulted in a hike along Offa's Dyke Path as far as Llandegla before sense intervened on that summer evening to send me to Wrexham instead. The rest of the way remains undone, and the prospect of approaching the Clwydian Hills is another lure. Alternative transport arrangements may make this happen yet, but it stays in my ideas bank for now.
That's not to say that all of my visits have taken my north of the Dee, though, because January 2007 saw me walk from Chirk to Llangollen using a few paths and bridleways. Sunshine was scare and Chirk Castle further away and better hidden than was photographically ideal, but the walk was good to do nonetheless. The Ceiriog Valley is another prospect that I merely sampled a little at this sitting, and it's one that I won't rule out for further investigations, either.
Even though it was immersed in a period laden with energy sapping demands being made of me by my working life, the long Easter weekend demanded that I head away somewhere, even if it only was for a short break. My resolve was strengthened by my having to abandon a planned trip to Caernarfon and Beaumaris before that. Even so, the first part of the weekend was so chilled out at home that I questioned why I was truncating that to get away at all. However, my efforts were rewarded with some alluringly sunny weather for a stay away from home that punctuated the way things had been going until thing. After all, that's why these escapades get called breaks, and one certainly was needed.
Easter Sunday
It was a late departure that got me away on Easter Sunday, but I still had a golden evening to enjoy after arriving in Llangollen and checking into a hotel there. Making a booking was easy, though a fair few folk were around Llangollen when I got there. While I am not certain that you get the most from the surroundings by remaining stationary in the town, it does seem to be a well-frequented honeypot, with most folk doing exactly just that. Like other such fleshpots, leaving the assembled collection of humanity is an easy affair: just head up a steep sided hill, and the one hosting Castell Dinas Bran was more capable of doing just this.
My trot up to Castell Dinas Bran was the start of a stroll that retraced some of those steps taken on earlier outings. While very little of the castle actually remains, it is the panoramic views that are the real draw here, as they were on my first trip to the area. With all the glorious evening light, the scenery was made to look even more alluring again, and it was no surprise that more than me were lured away from the banks of the Dee. In fact, I was spotted using my DSLR and asked to take a photo of a few folk that were relaxing in the middle of the antiquity. It was a task happily fulfilled despite my own misgivings about not doing much in the way of people photography; hopefully, the photos turned out all right. After that deviation from my more usual subjects of landscapes and buildings, I soon enough returned to capturing a little of what surrounded me.
Steep slopes do keep the less determined away by requiring energy to be expended on the ascent, but it's on descending where they really take their toll. In this regard, the way down from Castell Dinas Bran on its eastern side was completely typical. Having negated to bring a walking pole, I needed to depend totally on my legs to keep the pace steady until the gradients eased; this was an unladen saunter with just a map and a water bottle having come with me.
Much to my amazement, I noticed a large party out for a stroll, and they were heading in my direction. Thankfully, I was on the level when we passed, but the sheep weren't too happy about what they saw, though. There were plenty of young lambs about and the size of the walking group really caused quite a commotion, with ewes and lambs filling the air with a cacophony of bleating that shattered the peace of the evening. It is the sort of experience that starts you thinking that animals are distressed and makes you wonder if those causing it realised what they were doing. Now that I ponder it, I would counsel against large walking groups going through fields where there are sheep until later in the year.
With the air finally clearing of bleating, I made for a lower level path along the northern slopes of Dinas Bran to embark on a course that was set to drop me on a single track road. When I first came to these parts, this would have been a case of stitching together a few rights of way to make a walk from them, but a look at a current OS map reveals that I have been a user of part of the Clwydian Way, a long-distance trail that seemingly has come into place recently. Even on tarmac, I continued to follow the trail as I walked past Dinbren Hall. Like the trail, I took a right turn onto another road that is signed for World's End before leaving that for the bridleway that was to carry me closer to Valle Crucis Abbey. Retracing some old steps had me following a trail that I never noted before.
As it so happened, that track was to bring me past the old priory ruins as it hugged the lower slopes of Fron Fawr. It was at Abbey Cottage where I reset my direction of travel to use a footpath leading towards the abbey and the caravan and camping grounds that surround it. Whatever designs I may have had on photographing the attractive ruins amid their surroundings were stymied both by the lowering sun and the number of folk that had come camping for the weekend. A pleasant evening's walking ensured that there was neither disappointment nor disgruntlement at this outcome. An upshot might be that I come this way again, and I hope that I do.
With the sun now really declining for the day, I made for the Llangollen Canal by road. In hindsight, I think that I may have overshot my rendezvous with the canal by a little, but there was no point dwelling on that easily corrected triviality. Familiarity with where I was going meant that there was no rush in my stride as I closed in on Llangollen again. In the past, there have been a few times when I have trodden the towpath in a rush because I was making for a bus. This time, I was heading for a nearby base for the night, where getting something to eat and hitting the sack could be allowed to come along in their own good time. It was another reminder of why I was basing myself here for a springtime getaway.
Easter Monday
Easter Monday turned out to be a contrast to the day before in a number of respects. Firstly, it started out cloudy after the clear skies brought by the preceding evening. Secondly, I decided to spend a few hours exploring more of what lay to the south of the Llangollen. Before that, though, I whiled away a little time dawdling in Llangollen itself to take in what the morning sun might do for the place, whenever it got out from behind the clouds. Once satisfy with any photographic endeavours, I set off searching for the North Berwyn Way.
It takes more effort to scale the southern slopes of the valley where Llangollen resides than it takes to reach the attractive countryside to its north. This is what I discovered after making my way out from the town and leaving tarmac after me for a few hours. The work was sweaty, too, a hint of the heat that visited us sporadically in April. After crossing two fields, I picked up a bridleway skirting Cae-Madog Wood and this track was to carry me for a good share of my trot too. Though most of the steepness was past me on reaching that wood, there was some ascent left before reaching a crest near The Brow.
Gradients grew kinder after that point, and the pastoral nature of my surroundings was a contrast to what I was seeing to my north and where I was the previous evening. It was if everything was flatter once you had made the ascent from the valley floor. In fact, you have thought that this was the natural level of the area were it not for the whistle of steam trains beneath. Being of a mindset that I was seeking peace and quiet made me understand John Ruskin's irritation with the idea of trains travelling over Monsal Dale in Derbyshire. Usually having little dislike for trains, I was surprised at how all that whistling was perturbing me an and how its subsidence was welcome.
With peace restored, my progress was to bring through a varying landscape that contained a mixture of pasture, tillage (oil seed rape was in flower in one field) and grouse butts. There was a single-track road crossed too and some silly sheep around Ffynnon-lâs Wood who took a while to realise that I wasn't driving them along the track too; thankfully no bleating this time but a little running before they left the track to get away from me.
It was after Ffynnon-lâs Wood where I reached the access land that was to come in handy for setting a more freestyle course without making anyone cross about it. Views to the north took in hills that I have yet to really explore, and figuring out which is which will need a future excursion because the countryside looks like a complex mix of gradients on an O.S. Explorer map. Things looked simpler where I was, and any inclines weren't too steep either, though a healthy carpet of heather meant that some forethought was needed before heading off on a very independent course. After wondering if anyone goes wandering around these parts, I was to encounter a few that were out and about, even passing a few words with one woman who had come up from her home in the nearby Ceiriog valley to the top of Vivod Mountain.
That was the first hummock that took my fancy, and it is very flat topped too. In hindsight, that crossing that I made over the heather to reach it could have been avoided, but these are the things that you learn by actually going somewhere and not just exploring it on a map. Though the position of the sun limited any photo opportunities for them, rockier hills could be seen further to the west, as if to remind me that my previous incursions into this part of the world in reality only scratched the surface. Reasons to return were mounting steadily.
After a circular route of my own devising had taken me to Vivod Mountain, I returned to the track that I now realised was what probably brought that lady up from the Ceiriog Valley. Y Foel was the next hummock that took my fancy, so I plied another route of my own devising to get there while cutting down on the amount of heather jumping that was needed. It helped that some patches had been burnt recently to encourage fresh growth for the grouse. There was some time for lunch too before I reached the top of Y Foel, a benefit of not taking on too much at one sitting. Once on that top, I was left wondering what the O.S. were marking when they inscribed Biddulph Tower on their Explorer maps. Apparently, there once was a tower here but so little remains now that you'd mistake it for a rocky outcrop nowadays. It's curious that a name that I'd associate with Staffordshire is to be found around this part of Wales.
Whatever about any curiosity, I needed to return to Llangollen and start my journey home. First, I left the hill to go down towards Finger Farm and re-enter more pastoral countryside. Some road walking was ahead of me, but I had chosen one with signs highlighting its later unsuitability for vehicles at the crossroads where I joined it. It did take a good while for that forewarned roughness to materialise, but soon did after a sign for a turning area ahead of it. The tarmac gave way to a rough and steep track that left you wondering what if any vehicles could negotiate it. Quad bikes and other ATV's should manage it, but what about conventional tractors? Something tells me that they must go this way to get to the fields too.
What my knees were telling me was that this was a steep descent to get to Llangollen, but that probably was difficult to avoid anyway. The roughness of the track accentuated the desire for a kinder walking surface, but it was a case of being patient and letting steady progress do the needful. For some reason, I have stronger memories of the heat of the day at this point than the temperatures that I met higher up; maybe there was a cooling breeze that is lost to my recollection now. A cloudy morning had transformed into a hot, sunny afternoon and a repeat of the previous evening's weather may have happened, but I was unable to stay longer to find out if that was the case.
The track eventually grew less steep and the surface changed to tarmac. There still was more height to be lost, but this had become less strenuous, and I was lured into the Denbighshire county council managed property of Plas Newydd, a Tudor-style building reminiscent of Gawsworth Hall and Little Moreton Hall in Cheshire. While I may not have stayed there very long, it was a useful rest for tired limbs before continuing on to catch my bus home, satisfied by a good if short break from everyday hurly-burly. That there are reasons for going back is an added bonus.
Travel arrangements:
Train journey from Macclesfield to Chester with a change in Stockport, Arriva bus service 1 to Wrexham and Arriva bus service 5A to Llangollen. Arriva bus service 5A from Llangollen to Wrexham and by rail back to Macclesfield from there with a few changes of train along the way (think they might have been at Chester, Crewe and Stockport but my memory is getting a little hazy now; should have started writing this piece earlier).
