Remnants
11th April 2010 This weekend, I fitted in an overnight stay in Capel Curig and a strenuous walk over the top of Moel Siabod while en route from Dolwyddelan. Following that ardour, anything done today needed to be less energetic, though a hike over boggy ground and through woodland conveyed me to Betws-y-Coed from where I travelled home again.
Around the same time last year, I was in the same area and the one difference that stays in my mind is that there remained streaks of snow after the winter that we got. Moel Siabod had them and so had Snowdon, the Glyderau and the Carneddau too. It is small wonder that I had brought the Microspikes with me, though I largely avoided any difficulty in the event. Saying that, I did manage to inadvertently scoop up some snow in my right boot (I left off the gaiters, and the trousers are only fit for the washing machine now...) with a single ill-taken step. A spot of boot removal and flicking off any invaders from my sock was all that was needed for redress.
Last Sunday's outing was very different, but the sight of flecks, patches and streaks laying on much lower hills was held in common. Normally, you wouldn't see snowy remnants at this time of year while journeying along the A537 between Macclesfield and Buxton, yet I did this year. In fact, anytime that eyes gazed in the direction of the upper reaches of Edale, there were telltale white patches there too. If my imagination wasn't fooling me, I even think that I might have spotted a white speck on Lose Hill while on the train home. Not being accustomed to these sights, I tend to notice them, but a more seasoned observer mightn't pay that much heed.
This past weekend has distracted me from promised illustrated scribblings and, if the fine weather stays with us, I may be waylaid be the lure of well lit hill country next weekend too. Of course, we have what weather actually is coming our way first, but a look on Metcheck reveals signs to be promising. Meanwhile, I'd better be making time for some matters outstanding then. These hints of summer are a big change from what we were having...
Going out with a bang
1st April 2010 March should start like a lion and leave like a lamb but it seems to have got that script wrong this year. You only have to hear the stories of trains being marooned in snow drifts to be reminded of the same sort of thing happening at the end of February. In its own way, it places into sharp relief the journey that I made to Aviemore a few weeks back. Then, snow seemed to be on the retreat though I was armed with my Kahtoola Microspikes in case I met anything harder than soft snow. Now, it seems that has been well replenished just in time for the Easter weekend. Of course, there's the ever present threat of avalanches (I took a quick peek at the Scottish Avalanche Information Service website and there is high risk up high in many of the hills up there) and the matter of travel too. Both of these matters are reminders of that coach crash tragedy in the south of Scotland and thoughts are the only things that I can offer to those affected.
A decade ago, the mention of the sort of conditions that have visited us more often than usual this winter would have sent anyone to their memory banks to see when they last happened. A few years back, I remember sitting in the Bridge of Orchy hotel enjoying an evening meal after a walk south along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe. What really struck me were all the photos of severe winter conditions of the sort that visited Scotland at the end of March and of February. They dated back to the 1980's and you would have been forgiven for thinking that those would never recur with the green winters that we were having and the prevailing debate on global warming. On a separate occasion, I was staying in Kettlewell and overheard a conversation at breakfast about sheep farming in much harder winters than the ones that were coming our way at that time. All the stories of deep snow covering were very far away in time and my upbringing in a more temperate maritime climate might have had something to do with it too.
In time, the wintry conditions that ended 2009 and stayed with us for so much of 2010 will be found in the same memory area as those in the 1980's and the 1960's. It is a reminder that, even with rising global temperatures (a contentious subject for some and one whose complexity is made all the more apparent when we get colder winters), we aren't going to be denied extreme winter like what came upon Scotland this week. With the milder winters that started the century, you might be forgiven for thinking that they were the start of a pattern but I have come to the conclusion that they were part of a one (El Niño and all that) that mixes mild and arctic as time goes on. We might know more about climate than we did but times like these are a reminder that there's always more to learn.
Here in Macclesfield, it isn't warm but we have no snow. Currently, it is drying up after a wintry shower that was more of rain than anything else. That's not to say that it mightn't have been sleety snow because I have been out in one of those week. April is noted for a mixture sun and showers and it cannot be said that it isn't living up to that stereotype. In fact, a quick look at the synoptic charts on the MWIS website confirm that Easter will be accompanied by a steady queue of low pressure areas. Let's see what can be done with it.
Some competition for attention
30th March 2010 Last weekend should have seen me heading off somewhere for a day trip but nothing of the sort happened. Various excuses could be summoned and fatigue following a busy working week certainly would be among them. Then, there's the one that you cannot be away every weekend and that's true too. Still, it would have been nice to have made better use of the fine weather that visited us on Saturday and Sunday, especially with the weather for the forthcoming Easter weekend looking as if it will be as mixed as it is at the moment.
In the middle of all of this, there are a variety of interests competing for my attention. Sunday was taken up with a spot of messing about on a computer. In part, the cause was the resurgence of another interest of mine: cycling. With the bike's back tyre still needing attention to rid it of a (very) slow puncture, a damper should have been put on this but, no, it is threatening to send my brain off into places that are not compatible with adding contributions to what essentially is a hillwalking blog. It was that state of affairs that had me sent off exploring another piece of blogging software called Serendipity (yes, there's nothing wrong with WordPress but there's never any harm in having a look at the competition from time to time) in the name of crafting a cycling blog to complement this thing. While Serendipity itself works well, a few rays of reality fell on the idea and I am minded to consign it to the back burner for now. Saying that, a quick look on Google demonstrated that there might be a place for a cycling blog that revels in the countryside that gets explored. Of course, that also is what I do here so there may be room for including news of the occasional bicycle foray so long as it doesn't the focus of what you find on here.
With a website idea being left to come to maturity in its own good time, my mind again turns to the Easter weekend and any opportunities for restorative escapades. The weather has turned cold gain with blizzards visiting parts of Scotland and whiteness coating parts of Ireland. Here in Cheshire, it is cold rain that we have but that doesn't mean that I am ruling out the chances of an escapade between the showers that seem to be in the current forecast. It's just that I'll need to see how things look later in the weekend before making any plans. That's not to say that there aren't some ideas already in my head such as coastal hikes in Northumberland or Pembrokeshire, a short hop to Arran or, closer to home, a wander along the Peak District moors between Baslow and Hathersage. For any of those to happen, it's a matter of having at least some of the kind of weather that those such places visual justice. It will be a case of waiting, this time around.
A short sortie in snow-streaked hill country
24th March 2010 It's amazing how brainwaves emerge and the one that prompted my weekend visit to Glenmore and Abernethy is a case in point, and it might have been caused by the prevalence of cycling outings since my last walking excursion. What resulted was a hastily planned getaway facilitated by a Caledonian Sleeper journey between Crewe and Aviemore (booking a berth this time around) with an overnight stay in the SYHA Cairngorm Lodge hostel. For all that, it worked out very well in the end, and keeping things simple might have helped towards that end.
Overcast skies were pervasive when I got to Aviemore, but I didn't dally with disappointment at all. One thing that concerned me was that the later-than-usual arrival time because of the need for passengers bound for Fort William to continue their journey from Kingussie by coach due to engineering works. That concern subsided when I boarded my intended bus for Glenmore to make use of the full day ahead of me, one of the advantages of overnight travel.
That day was to be spent poking around a part of the world that I first explored on the last day of my stay in the area last August: Strath Nethy. With that in mind, I picked my way towards the Ryvoan Pass with patches of snow still littering the ground without my need to go that high at all. For safety's sake, I had my Kahtoola Microspikes with me so, while wary of over-exuberance, they gave me a little more confidence when dealing with what lay underfoot. Even so, much of the white stuff that I crossed was of the softer variety rather than its harder and icier counterpart.
To ensure views over well blanketed summits like Cairngorm and Braeriach, I reversed a higher level course to An Lochan Uaine that had me reproaching my wisdom in August until the vistas repaid my efforts. Though the sun was trying to get through any breaks in the cloud cover, conditions weren't so conducive to photography, and I contented myself with a few record shots in case nothing better came the way. That is not to say that there was no tinge of blue appearing, but it was taking its time doing so. It was after An Lochan Uaine that any real brightness began to grace the slopes of Meall a' Bhuachaille.
Leaving the track for Nethy Bridge to take the one going for Strath Nethy took me by the Abernethy Forest National Nature Reserve with the surrounding countryside being eerily reminiscent of what you find around the Rothiemurchus Estate with its mix of lone trees, a heather carpets and a smattering of lochs and lochans. Grouse were making their presence known, and I got to hear the classic "go-back, go-back" call for the first time ever; I have heard grouse before, but never making this sound as clearly as I heard it last Saturday morning. Having left a party of ice axe equipped mountaineers go ahead of me, I could take in the surrounding sights and sounds without worrying about holding up anyone.
Reaching Strath Nethy and the bridge over the river flowing along its floor was marked by a spot of early lunch. There were vague ambitions of reaching Glen Avon and Loch Avon in the back of my mind, but the tempting track shown on the map as following the Nethy on the floor of the glen was anything but appealing on the ground. In fact, it was a boggy mess, punctuated with occasional stretches of stepping stones. Any efforts to make it more passable looked far from concerted, and it's little wonder that the right of way for Glen Avon took a higher route.
In fact, I chose that right of way to get me onto an unnamed hill acting as a long shoulder to Bynack More. It was at this point that I became beset with rain showers, but there were dry respites too. That reminded me of a rain drenched trot over Meall a' Bhuachaille's neighbouring hills last August, albeit with the breaks that allowed so drying time. Snow took over as the main covering underfoot, but it remained largely soft, and I had the Microspikes on in case I needed, and they didn't let me down on one icy patch where I put them to the test.
Gaining height does allow you to resolve geographical counundra and I saw the way to a well snow-enveloped Bynack More and confirmed that it was its neighbour Bynack Beg that I was seeing from the floor of Strath Nethy. The slab-sided Sròn a' Cha-no was another landmark across the same glen, and I think that I spotted a small cornice lining one of its minor side valleys too. While I was concentrating on what was near at hand, the views ranged far and wide too, with those opening up towards Cromdale's hills and those at the back of Aviemore while the showers stayed away.
Satisfied with a pleasing bit of reconnaissance, I left a snow-covered Bynack More for another time and retraced my steps. Glen Avon and Loch Avon were left to wait too, but my patience with the passing showers, though wearing thin, was rewarded eventually with a clearance that was to remain for the rest of my time in the area. One of the advantages of an out and back walk is that views that didn't appear at the best on the outbound trip can look better on the way. So, it was on this occasion and I made the best photos of the surroundings while on my way back to Ryvoan and Glenmore.
After An Lochan Uaine, I stayed with the track headed for Glenmore Lodge, but chose a variation later on. This took me over Abhainn Ruigh-eunachan and around by Allt Mòr before crossing the road that leads to the skiing centre and the funicular railway to head for the shores of Loch Morlich. Seeing sandy beaches by a freshwater loch is unusual, but having it all backed by woodland and snow-covered mountains was something else again. With the accessibility of the loch, there was no way that I was going to have it to myself, and I didn't begrudge anyone out enjoying the sights like me. That's not to say that there aren't quiet corners, and I sought one of them out to see what I could capture with a camera.
With the evening light fading, I made for the hostel to secure my bed for the night in a room named Ord Ban and across from another named Bynack More. It was a reminder of where I had been during the day and that a rest was needed after the way that the day had been spent. An early bedtime followed, a fortunate development given that someone rose at 06:30 the next morning and wasn't being so quiet about it either.
Sunday was never going to be much of an outdoors day, with a journey home to fit into it. Fatigue after the previous day was a factor too, as was the need to sort out a few things before I left Aviemore. Nevertheless, I did fit in an energetic trot from Glenmore to Aviemore by way of the track called the Old Logging Way. Having gone the way before in August, I had memories of the trail that gave a reassuring sense of progress as I was walking. The day was starting out like the one before, with grey skies letting some sunshine through and displaying vague signs of blue colouration. With few distractions, I got into a walking rhythm that made good use of any downhill sections (that there were plenty of these may go some way to explaining why snow was never that far away) to complete the five-mile distance in under two hours. There were patches of snow and ice along the route, but none of these were unmanageable, and it wasn't overly busy either, though I did encounter the occasional cyclist and jogger.
As if to give me a good send off after a fleeting visit, clouds had broken to reveal blue streaks in the sky by the time that I got to Aviemore. The hills underneath which I had slept looked resplendent in the distance as the sun got more opportunity to work its magic as the day grew older. The journey to Glasgow allowed more chances for admiring any hill country that caught the sun before I continued south again from there. All of this has me pondering an Easter escape. Of course, this is dependent on weather and other circumstances, but the mind is starting to wander, and who knows what brainwaves might be unleashed?
Travel arrangements:
Service 38 from Macclesfield to Crewe, ScotRail Caledonian Sleeper from Crewe to Aviemore and service 34 from Aviemore to Glenmore got me to the start of the walk. A railway journey conveyed me home from Aviemore with changes in Glasgow, Preston and Manchester.
A weekend among the Cairngorms
22nd March 2010 It was the feeling of a developing rut that triggered it and a ride on the Caledonian Sleeper that got me there but, if that was what was needed to get me out among snow streaked hills and under snow blanketed summits, then it did the job well. Though I met with hefty (rain) showers in the middle of the day on Saturday, I am inclined to think that I might have gone where drier weather was more plentiful. After two postings regarding cycling, it was time that some walking ones made their appearance on here, and there was a good deal of that before I came south again. As luck would have it, the bike now has a puncture, so that needs a repair. Serves me right for taking a shortcut through the woods on the way home on Friday. As seems to be my wont with these things, more is to follow and, hopefully, I'll avoid my near habitual dallying with this one.
