Out in some of the whiteness
6th January 2011 Those heavy coatings of snow that many of us were to find round about our way before Christmas weren't left to pass without my going out and sampling the transformed countryside, even if my excursions were mere nibbles compared with what others were doing. On the Monday before Christmas, I got myself into the hills not far from Glossop with Shelf Benches being the limit of my explorations. Tuesday saw me pottering about Lindow Common enthralled by the way clumps of snow were clinging to any vegetation. Wednesday afternoon was too good to leave go so I tried out and circular trot round by Prestbury, starting from my own front doorstep. A Christmas trip to Ireland in spite of snow showers closing Dublin Airport and sending me around the island a bit more than I intended offered its own opportunities too. That meant some wandering along snowy roads and over well coated fields before the thaw came on St. Stephen's Day (Boxing Day to the British). The only sign of snow since was a greasy damp dusting that greeted me on the morning of my first day back at work for 2011.
It was after a chaotic weekend for anyone travelling in the U.K. that I finally had the chance of making something of what had visited us on Friday evening and beyond. With the aftermath of the snowfall and the impact of the cold weather in mind, I decided against going too far and stuck with an option that erupted in my mind the day before: sampling the hill country near Glossop again after being absent for a few years. The prospect of popping over to Longdendale was an extension that never came to pass but it was better not to get too carried away during the hours that were available to me. That was just as well because any attempt to approach Shelf Moor and its neighbours would have been stymied but for my having my Kahtoola Microspikes with me; they stuck into the ice superbly to get me further away from civilisation than otherwise might have been the case. Beyond the obstacle, it was over to the cleats of my Scarpa ZG10's to keep me upright and they did that, apart from downhill skid on slippery snow that didn't carry me either too far or into any danger; it merely was a warning not to get too carefree. Cloud were advancing from the south, but enough sunlight was left for me to make a pleasing record of what surrounded me. It was only after Mossy Lea farm that I had the chance to use the Access Land to leave the more travelled way to have a potter about. In the end, I contented myself with reaching the foot of Shelf Benches after following a jeep track as far as a broken down wall, from where I followed animal tracks as far as was sensible.
Strangely, there were more folk around when I made my return to Glossop; there only was one other soul out when I was venturing away from civilisation. Some were struggling over the icy obstruction with instep crampons while others seemed to get around it without any need for specialised kit at all. My incursion into the whitened outdoors may not have carried me far but I did gain a bit of height to gaze over humps and bumps that lay about me, so satisfaction was assured.
The next day's sampling of whitened surroundings was a snatched trot about the Black Lake on Lindow Common. Every tree and scrub had clumps of snow stuck to it, which may for dramatic sights when walking through the Common's more wooded parts. These were sights that I rarely get to see so I lingered even though there were other things to be done and there was time-consciousness in the bargain too. The afternoon of the day after was less rushed as I walked from my house to Prestbury. The light was beginning to fade a little and there were sights that reminded me of Lindow as I followed the Bollin. There were thoughts of walking back via Tytherington but an iced up track under a railway put a stop to that; a quick local trot had me leaving the Microspikes behind and they were needed unless I contented myself with wandering through Prestbury village and back home by roadside footways whose gradients were a solid reminder of the depression of a valley through which the Bollin flows. That's what I did to reach the cover of street lights before daylight finally failed for the day.
Those Irish explorations took place in better light, so there was enough for photos of unusual scenes for a usually mild part of the country. Well, seeing clumps of snow stuck to everything and hearing the dropping of snow dust within a hedge or a bush just isn't usual at all. Much of my venturing took the form of careful road walking, though I followed farm roadways too. In hindsight, I was glad to have sampled what I did because a rapid thaw after Christmas Day didn't take long to remove all the whiteness from everywhere; that was almost as dramatic as the snow fall and arctic temperatures themselves. It may be January, but one cannot be betting on any repeat of what came from the north to us and many would appreciate its staying away for a good while after all the disruption that was caused. Well, it goes to show that nature's beauty has a price but it's worthwhile when you gaze upon scenes like those shared here.
Into a sixth…
1st January 2011 After the passing of 2010, my only wish is that 2011 brings you and yours good things. The past year saw me distracted by a change of job in the middle of it, and I think that it may have reduced my output on here. However, after catching up with a few issues of TGO recently, I have come to thinking that I need to keep reading more from the outdoors media because my perusal certainly popped a few ideas into my head for the coming year. What's needed now is to make something of the few flakes that are littering my brain at the moment.
The recent arctic conditions may have made my Christmas travelling more adventure-filled than I'd intended, yet it also brought me an afternoon spent pottering around the hills beside Glossop gain. There is the seed of a post arising from that little outing, but I also got to see how Lindow Common and the Bollin Valley look with clumps of snow stuck to everything around them too. Then, there were trots around rural Limerick in Ireland to savour what are rare conditions for the south-west of Ireland. It might be that one posting would suffice to collect my experiences of those little tasters of a whitened world.
Though I also am playing with the idea of a local wander before returning to work on Monday, there also are designs on a quick sortie by Caledonian Sleeper to see what's left of any snowy coverings in the Scottish Highlands. That's something with which I have been playing for a while, but it'll be a little look rather than a deep incursion. It remains to be seen if I can make anything of it.
Other brainwaves for the year include a longer sojourn in an area new to me (and perhaps others) that resulted in a number of postings that I can share on here. Firm ideas are few and far between for now, but I did concoct a scheme centred on Mallaig that has me going out to the Small Isles. Maybe visiting Islay and Jura might be other propositions. Then, there's always the call of my native Éire for a fuller hill country excursion to follow up my nibble of the Wicklow Mountains, nearly two years ago now.
Regarding smaller forays, there are hills around Keswick that I'd like to explore too after a few years of struggling to find a reason to go back there. That has come from the TGO writings of others, and I am thankful for them too. Looking through old photos has brought thoughts of trying to better them, and that could see me exploring Derbyshire a bit more too.
It's all very well making designs for a whole year when it can surprise you in a way that you cannot expect, but not having the ideas at all will lead to torpor like what I felt towards the end of 2010. That is something that I'd like not to see happening again. Let's hope that all of us manage to get in some quality hill time over the coming year, even if life has a habit of getting in the way from time to time.
Matters of terminology
18th December 2010 Yesterday evening and overnight, a white blanket arrived in and around Macclesfield. A company Christmas night out meant that I was out in Manchester to see the white stuff blanketing there and Stockport too. Again, the south of England seems to have been affected too, with Twitter awash with transport companies telling what services are running and where. However, it seems that hardly anywhere has escaped, with Wales and Scotland seeing some too.
There was a time when this sort of weather was enough to have me outdoors pottering over the white coverings, but it doesn't seem to hold the same appeal for me these days. Was it last winter's snows that broke the spell? Before that, snow was a short-lived visitor that never satisfied my curiosity and was enough to lure me outside, even to pace over local paths. Now, it appears that there is a feeling of extra effort required to get about instead, not that I don't have the ability of the kit to be able to get where I want to go.
All of this has me wondering if the same sort of becalming has affected my hill-going. It's easy to point out causes such as changing job, having busy working weeks, not getting alluring weather or being tired at weekends, but there may be another cause: have I more than sated my hill country appetite? With that in mind, it might be an idea to see if there are ways around this if it indeed is the cause.
Popping up accessible little hills might be one of them, and my visit to Caer Caradoc last month was very much of this ilk; the fact that it wasn't crowded either helped for enjoyment of the walk. Ironically, this month's issue of Country Walking has a feature on walking little hills and Hope Bowdler, not at all far from Caer Caradoc or Church Stretton, gains a mention in there as does Ysgyryd Fawr near Abergavenny. Maybe, creating a collection of little hills on my proverbial ideas shelf for easy planning could help to overcome any present torpor. This is far from list ticking because I like to go for walks to enjoy the surrounding countryside and not to say that I have "done" all the tops on a certain list or other.
The word "little" cropped again in my reading, this time in an issue of TGO that I was perusing on the way down to Oxford for a business trip. What I spied on those pages was a review of Cicerone's Scotland's Best Small Mountains. Since then, I have acquired a copy of the said guide as an eBook and discovered that smallness is in the eye of the beholder. With Country Walking, the sorts of heights are in the 300-500 metre category, but many of the "small mountains" are in the 700-900 metre range. There are other contrasts too, with some of the hills featured in the Cicerone book being out in pretty wild countryside, a counterpoint to the more genteel surroundings of those in the magazine. The guide starts in the north-west highlands of Scotland and works its way south and throws up a number of options worthy of exploring, some of which I have actually walked. Here, Ben Vrackie and Morrone come to mind, but there are one or two others if my memory serves me correctly.
It might that both the magazine and the book are highlighting something of which I have grown short: ideas. There also is the need for time to ponder and plan such things, particularly for those longer excursions. Then, I might be able to get things going again in 2011, but my ambitions are sure to be modest. After all, I have been developing a certain dislike for lofty terms like summits and peaks and now find referring to such things as tops to be much more amenable. Whatever I call them, there will be no obsession with these because it will be the walking, exploring and savouring that will matter above all else.
An arctic feel
8th December 2010 Surely, this winter must go down in memory as one with an early blast of cold weather that brought with it a hell of lot of snow in places. While Macclesfield and Wilmslow came off more lightly than other places, we still have to watch our step while walking about; those pesky areas of black ice can give you a toss before you know it. Nevertheless, the B5470 Macclesfield to Whaley Bridge, A537 Macclesfield-Buxton and A54 Congleton-Buxton roads were shut until last weekend so good dumps of snow weren't at all far away.
While on the subject of places that got more snow, Sheffield comes with its having a covering of several feet of snow in places. In fact, some footways are so trampled that a coffee table smoothness is a threat to life and limb. If I lived over there, I could see my Kahtoola Microspikes being in use every day. Maybe those work colleagues who have been struggling to get from there to our place of work every day might do with something from AutoSock as noted elsewhere in the blogosphere.
Even with all the horror stories, alluring thoughts of seeing hills in full winter garb still tempt me. However, any thoughts of seeing Scottish hills have to be tempered by the recent travel chaos up there. Hopefully, it'll work out OK for everyone caught up in it. Still, Caledonian Sleeper and other train services seem to be heavily hit by the conditions. That mix of fresh snow falling on icy roads really has caused chaos. It's all very well daydreaming of white wildernesses but they have another side.
Maybe that thaw over the weekend will ease things enough to help all who have been marooned by what has been with us for a few weeks now. It even might allow a chance to make good those daydreams with whatever whiteness remains wherever I may go. After all, I quite fancy an outing given that it has been a few weeks since the last one.
A trot around and over Caer Caradoc
25th November 2010 Since I first glimpsed the hills around Church Stretton while en route to Abergavenny for a day of walking around there, Shropshire's hill country hasn't seen that much of me. Whether it's because I have failed to find ways of extending my explorations from those visits that I have made or there is another explanation, it's a part of the world that I reckon needs more of my attention.
After that, there is a copy of Cicerone's guide to the area sitting on my bookshelf, and it was from this that the idea of a walk around and over Caer Caradoc was put my way for something to made of it the Sunday before last. That it's a short hop within a proverbial stone's throw of Church Stretton at a time of year when days are short added to the appeal of the idea. It also meant that a later start than might be ideal did nothing to spoil the afternoon that it occupied for me.
Though the forecast was more hopeful, the day was to stay cloudy until the sun found a western gap in the cover late in the day. As it happened, it seemed that the North Wales were doing rather better with catching the sun than where I was spending my time. Nevertheless, I am putting any such galling thoughts out of my mind to enjoy what I had.
Travel arrangements meant a stopover in Shrewsbury and I took to take another little poke around the town. From a previous quick taster, I wasn't ignorant of its attraction, with quite a few pretty old buildings around the heart of the place. This time around, I stayed near to the train station to gawp at Charles Darwin's old school, now a public library, and to sample a little of the town's castle. A bit more sun and blues skies would have made the place that little bit harder to leave, while convincing me that popping down there for a few hours would be no waste of time.
Though the skies were brightening, I stuck to my plan, and I was soon to find how usefully near to Church Stretton Caer Caradoc was to be. After crossing the A49, I picked my way through streets to make for what once was the road to Cardington, and there even are Cardington Way markers on the route too. Part of what seems to have been the course of that old thoroughfare is now a sunken passageway hosting a stream. The right of way doesn't use this but leaves the tarmac roadway leading to New House Farm to follow the hedge that is by its side. Not unsurprisingly given the often wet autumn, the going was soft and muddy underfoot, something that wasn't unexpected anyway.
It didn't take long for me to pick up the old track where it enters the field and follow it into the dip between the wooded Helmeth Hill and the bare Caer Caradoc. Staying with the track, I went around underneath the slopes of Three Fingers Rock, having some easy height gains as I did so. Here, immersed in rolling hill country, it was difficult to believe that civilisation, a railway and a busy modern road weren't at all far away.
Seeing a path climbing up the hillside before me, I left the track to pick my way to the top of Caer Caradoc. What the hills of South Shropshire lack in height, they compensate by having steep sides, and Caer Caradoc is no different. It was a matter of letting the summit come when it did and stopping whenever more level ground allowed. The sun was struggling to get through the cloudy layer without much in the way of success; if it had done so, copious amounts of photographic activity would have ensued with hummocks like Hope Bowdler Hill, Robin's Tump and The Wilderness (not as wild as the name suggests, incidentally) featuring in resulting photos.
The 459-metre-high top of Caer Caradoc was once a fort, and you might see why it would be secure if you ever walked up there. To my eyes, the old ramparts weren't so obvious, though I was later to see the signs of an old ditch. The name comes from a Celtic chief who fought the Romans only to lose and fall into their hands to get carried to Rome; apparently, he possessed enough guile to ensure that he and his family didn't meet a sticky end at the hand of his captors with his living out his days in that foreign land to die a natural death. Today, the hill is seemingly well frequented though, as I found, not so much as to deprive anyone of peaceful relaxing moments to survey the surrounding panoramic views. It was from here that I spied sunlit Welsh hills beyond the Cheshire Plain, while making such neighbouring hillocks as The Lawley.
On the way down, I went around the smaller Little Caradoc though that involved a little diversion from what might have been my intended route back to civilisation. That deviation was well worth it, with only passing dog walkers to disturb my reverie while I took a breather after the steep descent from Caer Caradoc. Then, I needed to regain some height before picking up the path that was to take me along the lower slopes of Caer Caradoc while losing height all the while. It was while I was trotting along here that I spied the prospect of some late evening sun before it did come my way. When it did come, many hillsides were pleasingly lit, though its time of arrival meant that it was short-lived. That wasn't to be a cause for complaint, since it was the icing on the cake for me.
More steep descent lay ahead of me before I was to descend to the dip between Caer Caradoc and Helmeth Hill. Some of these were to be well eroded too, so I took a slight deviation from the direct route to be on more trustworthy ground. Before that was to pass, I was tramping along a path that reminded me of a similar approach that I took to walking Place Fell near Ullswater earlier in the year.
Once down in the dip between the two hills, it was a matter of retracing my steps to return to Church Stretton's train station in fading light. When I set foot onto the tarmac again, the street lights had come on, but there still was some light in the sky. A tempting public footpath diversion was discounted in favour of being sure of my route, and I was at the train station with enough time to spare for a spot of grocery shopping before staring my journey home.
One thing that I suspect after this trip is that I shouldn't be devoid of ideas for further walks in the area. After all, repeating the walk when there is more sun is one option and more hills are there to be walked too. For instance, I quite fancy reaching the top of The Lawley and seeing how things look from there. After that, there's another route that has come to my attention since the walk: The Ancient Portway, a hike from Church Stretton to Pulverbatch and Pontesbury. This would be a day-long affair for the full route, but it could be cut short at Pulverbatch if needed. It's a refrain that I may repeat too often, yet it's best to leave anywhere with more things to be doing on any return, and it's true of my wandering around Caer Caradoc. All in all, it was a satisfactory afternoon outside and in an area that wasn't overrun with folk, either. With that, there can be no complaints and there is always that Cicerone guide should these possibilities be exhausted.
Travel Arrangements:
Bus service 130 from Macclesfield to Wilmslow; train from there to Church Stretton with a change in Shrewsbury; train from Church Stretton to Crewe with a change in Shrewsbury, bus service 38 from Crewe to Macclesfield.
