Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Cheshire has seen many a fast moving spotty rain shower pass over it today and the Met Office's online rain radar shows more Ireland. In between those, there have been spells of alluring sunshine of the kind that makes wonderful photos. How is it that you need a session of rain for the sunlight to look better when it comes afterwards at this time of year? Well, good photos don't come without some cost.

That little mention of photographic endeavour brings me to an afternoon well spent in Chester last Saturday. What drew me away from home was the prospect of meeting with some sun without any dampness, something of a rarity in the last few weeks. There were other reasons too, such as the escape from what felt like a rut. The reason for choosing Chester was that I got to looking through the photos of the place that I have been sharing in the online gallery only to come to the conclusion that they didn't look the best. It was time to have another go and I came away with some pleasing results too when the clouds didn't get in the way of the lighting. Much of my urban stroll took me towards the less crowded parts of the city like Grosvenor Park where a miniature train was conveying families around a small circuit. Trotting along the banks of the River Dee and along the old city wall took me towards the Old Dee Bridge from where I found my way towards the more crowded rows where many were out shopping. These may be uncertain economic times but you wouldn't have known that from the bustle and a headline in the local rag about the place being a boom town.

The passage of a large wad of cloud in front of the sun meant that any designs on digital capture of landmarks such as Chester Cathedral or Chester Castle (the old County Hall looks an elaborate affair) had to wait for another time. While awaiting the return of the sun, I ended up in a shop or two though I wasn't really on a shopping outing. However, that didn't stop a visit to a branch of Field and Trek resulting in my coming away with a Berghaus Twister Softshell jacket having saved nearly £30 off the original price. My succumbing to the attractions of making a purchase might have been influenced by there being a sale in progress but I have toyed previously with the idea of acquiring a heavier duty counterpart to my North Face Apex Elixir (currently needing a spot of sewing to keep in the drawcord at the base of the jacket after the wrong thread came away) might have made me more vulnerable to this kind of thing, even though it was a thought that had slipped from my conscious memory. So far, it's got only a bit of a light wetting but I like the cut and fit. Exhaustive testing is not something that I do but the new acquisition is working well thus far.

The trying out of the previous day's extravagance had to await its opportunity when Sunday came dry too though with milky skies, thanks to a passing anticyclone sticking for long enough to give us respite from all the damp greyness that has been outstaying its welcome over the last few weeks. It was enough for me to take to lanes and highways on my bicycle. Though I was to spend some time around Lindow Common, the main motivation was the investigation of potential commuting routes but the level of traffic and the steepness of some inclines left me thinking the venture a work in progress. However, a chance perusal of a map afterwards at home revealed a possibility that went by Over Alderley, Hare Hill and Mottram St. Andrew. The promise of a sunny Monday had me taking a risk in the form of trying the route in the flesh and the experience convinced me of the need for tightening my back brakes though nothing untoward happened; then, any inclines can be tackled with greater confidence and there are a few such as the dip around Over Alderley or the hill on which Mottram is situated. Nevertheless, I sampled a glorious morning and pass someone harvesting "haylage" on my return in the evening; some of it was blowing in the air too. Other amenable days may get me passing the way more often.

Even with all of this, I remain on hiatus from walking in hill country though seeing how high the local reservoirs are now might be one draw. There's a bank holiday weekend at the end of the month too and thoughts of making something of it are just beginning to prod me into action. Autumn isn't far now and there's a certain coolness to be felt on some mornings as well. Maybe that's what's bringing more attractive lighting between those showers…

Today, I was in a shop when I overheard someone moaning about the less than exciting weather that has been with us for much of July. Many have very optimistic hopes for the summertime so that sense of frustration was understandable. It's why it's best to spread those aspirations around the year instead. Nevertheless, some spouts of sun this evening added some cheer and there may be a window of better weather latter in the week to break up things.

Maybe I should have made better use of the dry though grey day but I ended up doing some clearance at home instead. It was that activity that caused me to come across a map that I bought in Dublin in May. Surveying outdoors blogs can leave you with an impression that some have a soft spot for certain types of outdoors equipment. For on, it's stoves and another does footwear. For me, it seems to be maps, probably because they are so good at opening up any location awaiting exploration.

The map in question was produced by an alternative producer of Irish Maps, EastWest Mapping. For a while now, they have produced maps for Walking World Ireland to accompany pieces on walking routes in the island of Ireland. There was a time when they sold all sorts of outdoor maps and guides, including OSi and Harvey maps, but that seems to be over now. Nowadays, they use their website to sell only their own wares instead of those from others.

So far, those include three maps for the Dublin and Wicklow Mountains along with map guides for the Wicklow Way and the Táin Way, a circular trail starting and ending Carlingford on the Cooley Peninsula in County Louth (incidentally and perhaps ironically given it features in a Celtic myth regarding cattle rustling, it was the only part of Éire affected in the 2001 Foot and Mouth Disease outbreak; the disease was not allowed to spread any further). All can be ordered over the web and payment is by using PayPal. Regarding the maps for the Dublin and Wicklow Mountains, they are divided to cover the following areas: Dublin & North Wicklow Mountains, Lugnaquila & Glendalough, West Wicklow Mountains. There is another in the offing to complete the quartet and that will be for the eastern Wicklow Mountains. Currently, it is possible to by three of the intended four as a set from the website though that should become a quartet when the final map is released early next year. The scale is 1:30000 and overlap between each of the maps is generous so things look promising.

Returning to that map bought last May, it covers the Dublin and North Wicklow Mountains and I seem to remember that it needed discipline to leave the others after me at Eason's in O' Connell Street. Looking at it now, I have to say that there is a good deal of detail though I'd have to try it out on a real walk and not an armchair one to reach a definitive verdict. As well as claiming to be waterproof or water resistant on the cover, the paper used in the maps seems to be like what Harvey's use in their SuperWalker series so it should stand up to the occasional wetting, even if I wouldn't go opening the map up in a downpour like I got on the way home last Friday evening. Though my work circumstances have changed since the purchase, any excuse for more walking in my native Ireland has to be good. After all, any excuse to return to a area with pleasing hill country has to be good.

When I was coming home last night, rain started getting thrown down in torrents as can happen in Cheshire. It was almost as if a foretaste of Autumn was being put our way already. When you end up getting a wetting in that kind of deluge, you have to ask if reservoirs are filling up after the dry weather dominating May and June. Going for a look myself might be in order because I seem to have fallen into a rut of lessened activity exactly when the weather has fallen into a run of dampness.

In its own way, the cooler damper weather should encourage more activity and not the brace of lazy weekends that I have been having. Maybe, moving to a new job has broken my outdoors stride and I need to do a spot of restoration in order to break from the current flow. Lindow Common is not far from my new workplace so that may be a option for a spot of lunchtime exploration among trees even if the busy Wilmslow-Altrincham road may be making its presence felt. Then, there's cycling to and from work too when things are a little more settled and I did get out for a short run this afternoon.

Anything that breaks a sense of summertime slumber cannot be bad. It is tempting to blame to fatigue after a working week and unexciting weather but my outdoors mojo needs to be rekindled. There's a new month tomorrow so that might be a useful excuse. Light for outdoors photography is set to improve from now on for the remainder of the year so that may be what's need to get things going again. Then, there's a bank holiday weekend in England and Wales at the end of August that could have its uses. For those of you in Scotland and Éire, let's hope that something can be made of the one that you have this weekend. As for me, I'll be pondering the possibilities for the one that applies to me. It might be that what I see in the latest issues of Walking World Ireland (enticing articles on Scotland's Sandwood Bay and the Tour of Mont Blanc with a selection of shorter walks around West among all the usual features), Outdoor Photography and Photography Monthly might be the cause of something yet. After all, looking at forecasts for future weekends on Accuweather shows a hint of better things to come though all will become clearer as time wears onward.

The Met Office weather forecast for my few days in Arran and Argyll displayed an ever improving trend with Saturday being among the best of the lot. Of course, weather trends can change and there wasn't as much sun as predicted. However, that has its advantages because cloud shields you from the heat of the midday sun and that makes for more friendly conditions for walking. At times when I felt the full force of a strong sun, I was grateful for those times when under a cloudy shield.

That last Saturday in June got a cloudy start and it stayed like that for much of the day. Over time, breaks did appear in the cloudy cover that allowed the sun through until it took over around Tarbet, where my walk was set to end. The starting point for the hike was Claonaig so a ferry crossing was in order to get there from Lochranza, on the ferry that I saw the previous evening in fact.

Ironically for a part of modern day Ayrshire, Arran is closer to Argyll and may have been considered part of that part of the world in previous. That meant that the sailing on the small ferry only took around 30 minutes as opposed to around an hour for the bigger boat between Ardrossan and Brodick. Saying that, I can see the draw of civilisation result in a greater pull from the east that overwhelms any from the west. Well, the boat from Lochranza is a summer only affair while the Brodick one travels all year around.

Arran only grew a little smaller with the northwestward sea travel and it was unmissable from the shores of Kintyre as I started north along the Kintyre Way for Tarbert. The northernmost section of the long distance trail was to be my lot for the day with helpful mile posts counting down the distance that I had left to travel. That decreasing numerical trend told its own story in that the Kintyre Way should be walked in a southbound direction rather than reversing it as I was doing.

First, I had to make up the road towards Skipness with a sleepy atmosphere in the air. Tempting seats were to be found in places by the road and I topped up on food while resting on one of them. Though the predominant colouration was more steel grey in nature, I still enjoyed any glimpses of Arran from across the sea. These were captivating vistas on a day with more sun but they were still to blame for my going slower than usual. However, there was a long day ahead of me before I was to meet with a Scottish Citylink coach at Tarbert so there was no need to rush.

At the quiet collection of houses that is Skipness, I left tarmac to give my legs a blast of steep ascent up a gravel track. Unlike the day before, walking poles were with me to help and the assistance was well needed with my carrying everything around with me. From this point forward, I was on the route of the Tarbert to Skipness Walk as well as that of the Kintyre Way.

In order to meet up with the banks of Skipness River, that hard earned height gain was lost, not something that I found alluring after the earlier effort and in the knowledge that more ascent was ahead of me. Arran was lost from view with much forestry surrounding me, very much a feature of the route that I had chosen for myself.

Good progress was made and I began to go uphill again with the hills of Arran rising up over their lower counterparts on Kintyre. A longer lunch stop was made near Meall Donn, where I found a handy picnicking table at the end of the gravel track that I had been following. There was no real bother from midges either and the sun was finding a way through the clouds too though the effect wasn't as strong as that observation might suggest.

After the midday stop, it was along a well defined path that I was following as it weaved around among the firebreaks in the forestry plantation. Though planted with trees, there was bog too with bridges placed over Allt Carn Chaluim to keep the wanderer on a raised bank throughout. Progress was slower than inspection of a map might suggest but Loch na Machrach Mòire came in its own good time anyway.

Once the loch was behind me, I left the forestry too to find myself among a boggy landscape replete with untidy rocky hummocks. Out of curiosity, I popped onto one of the nameless ones before returning to locate my belongings again before continuing along the path again to reach a piece of hill track brutality that was a recent addition to the landscape. For all the world, it looked as if a gravel track wide enough for two cars to pass each other had been gouged out of the hillside. Let's hope that nature softens the unpleasant handiwork in its own good time but it too is easy to see why there is a campaign against such things in train in Scotland. Not only are they ascetically disturbing but they also can confuse the unwary by making maps out of date at the scoop of a large mechanical digger. There has to be better ways of enabling timer harvesting and the Forestry Commission should know better.

Very soon, I was back among conifers gain and the sun was making a better job of battling the clouds. That also meant that it started to feel hotter too as I began to come down from the none too heady heights that I had scaled. Any views of Arran were lost completely and it was those over Loch Fyne that replaced them. The Portavadie-Tarbet ferry was crossing beneath me as I made good any opportunities to look eastward to Cowal, a place on which I have designs of doing some exploration.

All the while, I was on the lookout for the path that would take me from the forestry track and drop me into Tarbert. It may have taken its time coming to me but it was welcome sight when it came. The subsequent stop for rest and sustenance might appear a kind of celebration but my eyes were drawn by the brightening surroundings and the growing semblance of the development of a wonderful summer's evening, much like the opening of a beautiful flower.

The way down was to be very steep and I didn't envy those who I had seen coming up against me earlier on in the afternoon. As I neared Tarbert Castle, the gradients eased so that easier walking became my lot with a quick diversion to a view point. While thankful for less taxing slopes, I was questioning the attentiveness of the waymarking but I filled in any lapses in signing without a blunder.

The castle was unavailable for photography due to ongoing restoration work so I continued onto the shoreside road in what is quite a pretty place with nicely presented and colourfully painted buildings. After asking directions in a shop where I bought some refreshments, I found the coach stop where my walk ended with plenty of time to spare.

Inverary was my my next port of call and I did some exploring before settling down for the night. Sunday was to turn rainy up there while other parts of the U.K. sweltered and England crashed out of the World Cup. If you had wanted to find a world away from that outcome, Scotland would have been more than forthcoming. There may have been occasional places where the sound of the vuvuzela could be heard but there they were many more where peace, quiet and stillness reigned supreme as I had discovered for myself.

Last time I went to Arran, it was during an Easter weekend with a very mixed weather forecast. Despite that, I gained the satisfaction of getting to the top of the island's highest hill, Goatfell, and a bus ride around the island. What I cannot deny was the existence of low cloud and heavy rain showers on that first visit over four years ago but something could be made of the drier interludes anyway.

The weather that I met near the end of June couldn't have been more different. So far, this year has turned out to be unusually dry in May and June though July looks as if it is getting an unsettled start. Things weren't looking so settled as I travelled up to Arran on Thursday with a belt of rain bearing cloud dropping south over mainland Britain. While on the subject of weather, it might have been best to stay east if I had wanted sun but the allure of going west won out on this occasion. In any case, strong sunshine and heat tend to go together at this time of year so gaining a cloudy respite is no bad thing either.

It was the cloud that was winning on Thursday though sun was getting through in spots and at times. Any ambitions at bettering previous photos of Goatfell as seen over Brodick Bay would have to wait and it looked as if pleasing photos of Lochranza Castle were to prove elusive too. However, basing yourself anywhere gives you the time window within which sunny magic can happen and so it was with Lochranza. After an evening meal, the skies let the sun through to light up the surrounding landscape sufficiently for some photographic endeavour to ensue before I returned to my lodgings to take up my bed for the night.

Arising next morning revealed that the day had made a very promising start. After breakfast, I organised myself for a day's walking though conversation with another visitor may have meant my forgetting my walking poles. It would have been better to have had them with but I was well into my walk before I remembered my omission. A bit more presence of mind than usual was to be in order for any descents and having the whole day for a none too adventurous schedule was to help enormously. For once, I wasn't trying to cram in too much.

Having been perusing Paddy Dillon's Cicerone guide to walking on Arran, I had the bones of a plan too. Usually these things can be very wide open for me though that can have its uses when you find something of interest to explore that hadn't come to mind until I am on an excursion. Those little surprises often add zest to a trip and one discovery on Harris comes to mind from a few years ago.

If it wasn't for recycling of hill names on Arran, my walk might have been easier to describe. For example, there are a few named Beinn Bhreac but it is the naming of Beinn Tarsuinn that really complicates my description; there are three of them, all within sight of each other! First up is the really rocky that can be seen from the island's east coast but that wasn't where my wandering took me and I had no inkling that there was a wooded top to the south of it too. No, I ended up bumbling about the triple-topped more rounded one out to the west of both of them with paths up Gleann Easan Biorach and down Glen Catcol taking me away from and back to civilisation, respectively.

My hike started out along the A841 with stops to look back at Lochranza in the growing heat. After the distillery, I picked up a path that was to allow me to escape from tarmac for much of the day. As I was to discover, quite a few folk use it to get to Loch na Davie before turning back again. In no way were hillsides overrun but it did mean that I needed to share. Quite why one of the others needed to stay on his mobile phone for much of the way is beyond me. It goes against my main motivation for journeying through empty hill country: to leave all the paraphernalia and pressures of modern life behind me for a while so as to recharge my spirit.

After a spot of leap-frogging and the passing of a few words, the others were to overtake me to continue on their way and I was left to enjoy the surroundings uninterrupted. The sky was taking on an ever milkier aspect but that cut down on the heat of the sun, a development that I had grown to appreciate. There was no need to rush so I had a good luck all around me with Torr Nead an Eoin behind me and a spot of height to be gained before Loch na Davie came in its own good time. Those who earlier overtook me were now coming back against me with their objective reached. There was another man walking very much with a sense of purpose; he was wanting to see if he could retrieve his spectacles after his being the way two days earlier. As I was sat near Loch na Davie partaking of some food and enjoying a little rest, he returned after a fruitless search but minded to speak to the police to see if anything was handed into them. After that I was to have the place to myself.

What helped towards that episode of total immersion in the countryside was my leaving the path later on. Before that, I rounded Beinn Bhreac with Glen Iorsa and its ribbon of Iorsa Water opening out beneath me. Carn Mor and the nearby rocky Caisteal Abhail were at my back with the by now cloud-filled skies limiting the sunshine and any photographic action. However, the sun was by then in the wrong place for any successful photos of the rocky photogenic stuff; you need the sun to be in the west for that and it hadn't got that far at that point in the day.

It was when I reached the saddle between Beinn Bhreac and Beinn Tarsuinn when I left the distinct path for trackless passage towards the latter. My first destination was a 514 metre high top before I headed for the 556 metre one before losing and regaining height to reach the 527 metre one. Quite whether one or all of these make up Beinn Tarsuinn isn't so clear from the OS maps that I have seen but it was the shrieks of resident bird life that was taking up attention. Were they trying to ward off a blundering intruder or was something else in train? All that I'll know is that it stopped once I reached the last hummock in the trio. Anyway, it was a reminder that it was countryside that was home to other creatures with a deer sighting cementing the impression.

From there, it was a matter of studying contours to find the least taxing descent into Glen Catacol. Taking in Loch Tanna might have made a tempting prospect but I wasn't going to be so greedy. Legs were tiring too so that may have been the deciding factor and there still was some height to lose as I passed the waterfalls of Abhainn Mor with yet another Beinn Bhreac above me. Very oddly, it seemed as if there was an attempt by dragonflies and other largish insects to stop me going forward; rightly or wrongly, it felt as if my legs were being mobbed. It's not something that ever happened to me before so it might an idea to get up to speed on insect behaviour. Otherwise, there were a few folk, not many though, coming up against me. Were they headed for Loch Tanna?

After making pains not to trip on any stones that littered the path, I reached those more level and kinder parts. The sun started to try getting through the cloud cover as I passed Gleann Diomhan and its National Nature Reserve. This would have been where I came down if I hadn't deviated from the path to take up a more roaming course. Creag na h-Iolaire towered above me and I might have been convinced that my climbing was over for the day. In fact, there was a little more as I neared the road at Fairhaven. This may not have been much but it speared any sense of complacency.

Once back on tarmac, I had it in mind to check out the Catacol Bay Hotel for a spot of food. First, there was the continue battle between sun and cloud to keep me occupied as I looked back towards where I had walked. Meall nan Damh was rearing to the south of where I was and sending the road all around it. Out to the west was Kintyre where I would be the day after.

When I reached the aforementioned hotel, it looked a down at heel sort of place but it did food all day and that was to satisfy me. It was good to know that I wasn't too early for service and there were folk holding up the bar already. Suitably refueled, I continued my journey back to Lochranza with the Claonaig ferry crossing to Arran for its last sailing of the day; it was to convey me to the mainland the following morning.

Unhurried strolling was to return me to Lochranza though it would not have been all on tarmac if I had been aware of such thing as a postman's path between Catacol and my destination. More height gain would have been brought upon me but my refueling should have helped me deal with that. Apparently, there's a need to watch out for a rocky edge too but I have managed loads of those so it wouldn't have been a major issue. Once back at my accommodation again, I relaxed a while before settling down for the night a tired but sated Irish lad.