Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Skye is yet another of those iconic spots in Scotland’s Highlands and Islands that continues to draw me back. My most recent spot of island hopping had me encountering the misty isle yet again, albeit briefly. The story of my most recent stay will wait for a future posting but the stopover has caused me to cast my mind back over previous visits, just like what happened after my excursion to North Argyll at the end of May. Those trips haven’t been as numerous as those to the likes of Lochaber and Lorn but Skye remains an island for which I retain a certain fondness.

The fact that it has been reasonably kind to me with the weather has helped me to see the island in its best light. That certainly was the case for my first outing up there in the last week of July in 1999. Up to that point, the month had been very grey, in Edinburgh at least, so I took my chance when I got it. Travel by coach landed me in Portree at around 17:00 in the evening and I made my way to the Portree Independent Hostel for my night’s stay. The glorious evening drew me out for a potter about the place for glimpses of the Cuillin Hills in the distance. The following day saw me hire out a bicycle and I made my way across the island to Dunvegan and its castle. The day was hot and the hills that the road surmounted, though none too impressive, did take their toll on the legs so my rest in Dunvegan was well earned. Nevertheless, roads were quiet and sights of the coastline and its many small villages kept me entertained as did the sight of MacLeod’s Tables in the distance. For the way back, I took a different route to follow the coast road to Sligachan as far as Bracadale before turning inland on a wonderful if scary narrow road though the hills to Portree. In evening sunshine, the countryside couldn’t have looked any better. The only fly in the ointment is that due to a lack of camera film, I have to rely rather more on my memory than photos for this account but that’s no bad thing. After staying in a different hostel, I reluctantly left Skye to return to Edinburgh, stopping by Eilean Donan (and annoying the coach driver on the side of the road near Dornie because my bag was in the wrong place and buried under loads of others; it’s a lesson that I haven’t forgotten: ask where to put your luggage first!) and Inverness. I may only have stayed a few days but my appetite had been whetted.

It was August of 2001 before I found my way back again, on the first of what has become my now near annual summer Scottish breaks. The weather was more uncertain on this occasion and I made my way from Edinburgh, where I had met up with a friend of mine, through some miserable wet and windy weather; it’s just as well that I was travelling in a coach and under cover at the time. The day after could not have been more different and I took my chance to savour part of the Trotternish. The views of the coast and the Quiraing were enticing enough for me to be putting my then newly acquired Canon EOS 300 SLR through its paces, even from this less ideal vantage point. My trek started at Ellishadder with my taking in a nearby waterfall cascading down the cliffs. Onward progress towards Staffin guaranteed me ample views of the Trotternish ridge. Continuing on towards Flodigarry and beyond garnered closer views of the twisted geological wreckage before I caught the bus to Uig. Its being a port might not make Uig a beauty spot but the day remained wondrous and thoughts of an excursion to Harris emanated in the brain; various distractions meant that they remained as such until recently. A bus returned me to Portree and the next day, a duller affair, saw me leaving reluctantly again with a bus taking me to Armadale and a ferry taking me on to Mallaig, from where I made my way back to Edinburgh again after a stay in Oban and a visit to Mull.

August 2002 saw me crossing Scotland ahead of a band of wet weather that was approaching from the east. A quick run to Skye resulted with my having a short walk around the the Old Man of Storr and I stayed only one night before heading off again. It was just as well because the following morning was well soggy but things cheered up as I made my way southeast again.

My next escapade, a longer affair, took place in July of 2005. In some respects, it was inopportunely timed because the failed 22/7 London bombings immediately preceded the trip. My base this time was Broadford because there was some real hill country wandering in the head. In fact, one of my hikes took me among the Cuillin and the Red Hills while the other was a crossing of the Trotternish ridge. The Cuillin ramble started from Elgol, then having a less usable bus timetable than today, and took me up a narrow path along Loch Scavaig with disconcerting drops into the sea on my left. Even so, any difficulties were more than worthwhile with fabulous views of the Cuillin Hills and Rum on offer in the wonderful sunshine. Reaching Camasunary saw me take a welcome break before continuing along the track to Sligachan under Bla Bheinn. The scenery remained wonderful with the likes of Sgurr nan Gillean and Marsco easily keeping me occupied. The sky might have clouded over by the time of my arrival in Sligachan but I was after having a very good day. Cloudiness dominated the walking the day after too, at least in the early stages. My trek started in Brogaig from where I followed the minor road up onto the Trotternish ridge. Once on the ridge, I headed south to go up and down hills like Bioda Buidhe before going down into Uig via Glen Conon. I was tempted by the idea of mounting Ben Edra and dropping into Glen Uig but I changed my mind en route. During my descent the sun came out and any glimpse back would be towards rounded humps that attempt to belie the existence of the inland cliff that forms their eastern faces. Having a spot of time to spare before the next bus, I found a quiet shady woodland spot, replete with a waterfall, where I could laze for a little while. That opportunity was much enjoyed, a perfect end to an adventurous hike. All in all, I don’t recall getting any rain during my stay on the island but there certainly was a lot of cloud about only for it to disappear at the right moments to allow Skye to display its magic. Broadford served well as a base with all of the essentials that I needed and some good views of hill country to boot. It certain allows for even more and deeper exploration of the area about it than I did.

My having been to Skye only a small number of times has its uses: there are plenty of reasons to return. That’s not to say that Skye hasn’t been a satisfying destination for me but leaving somewhere wanting to go back is so much better than feeling that you’ve seen all that is there to be seen. After all, those yearnings for a return can generate new hiking ideas and added motivation for exploring the outdoors. I am inclined to think that Skye merits another longer trip, perhaps in a season other than summer. Only time will tell what happens but I was treated like I was on my most recent encounter with the place, it will not have been bad to me at all.

When I was walking from Drymen to Callander last August, I encountered a leaflet proclaiming the attractions of Glen Finglas. These days, it is owned by the Woodland Trust and they have big plans to restore the woodland in the glen. However, it wasn’t that which caught my eye but the walking possibilities. Most are short strolls with a wider appeal but it is the prospect of a longer 15 mile jaunt that is particularly appealing. However, without a car, it seems that getting there is the tricky bit; it might be a case of doing a spot of cycling, then.

For some reason, Staffordshire has never featured highly in my list of outdoor destinations. Now that I think about it, it does seem strange for two reasons: it’s not as if is far away from me and neither is the area bereft of quality hill country. Accessibility from Macclesfield by public transport might have something to do with it; direct bus services to the likes of Biddulph and Leek are not the most regular. Nevertheless, I have had brushes with the county’s countryside while following trails such as the Dane Valley Way (the route of the River Dane forms part of the boundary between Cheshire and Staffordshire) and the Gritstone Trail. In addition, I did enjoy a good day’s walking between Leek and Macclesfield in wonderful December sunshine a few years ago.

This time, it was the prospect of a good day of January sunshine that had me champing at the bit. I have to admit that Staffordshire’s moorlands weren’t top of the list but the continuation of railway engineering works blighted escapes to other walking destinations. Here’s a selection of what I found in my way: Crewe-Preston, Crewe-Shrewsbury, Manchester-Preston, New Mills-Sheffield, Macclesfield-Stoke on Trent and even the Calderdale line. With the shorter days, any extension to travelling time curtails whatever is available for walking; it doesn’t seem worthwhile to spend more time travelling than in the outdoors, the whole point of the journey.

For a longer day in the outdoors, I chose to remain near home and I decided on exploring Staffordshire’s moorlands. Initially, I had walking in mind but ended trumping for the cycling option on my first hill country outing of the year. Fortuitously, I had restored my bike, which had been idle for most of last year, to road-worthiness and I wanted to take the thing out sometime soon anyway. As I was to remain road-bound, navigation wasn’t to be an issue with the only complexities being Leek and a strangely arranged rural crossroads. I followed the A523 all the way to Leek and made my way back via Meerbrook to Rushton Spencer where I rejoined the A523 for the way home. The navigational ease meant that I was left to enjoy whatever views came my way and I indulged in the occasional stop too. Speaking of views, the sight of The Roaches looming ahead of head while heading out the Buxton road to Blackshaw Moor is the sort of thing that draws me back to the countryside again and again.

Those glorious hill country vistas have a price though: ascents. Somehow, they feel more strenuous on a bicycle than on foot. Staying in low gear might sound like the solution but the need for constant pedalling still takes its toll on the legs. I find that building up leg strength so that you can remain in higher gears is a better course of action and it helps to build up hillwalking fitness too, no bad thing at all. In fact, that is one of the reasons why I want to do more cycling this year. My journey to and through Staffordshire was to take up and down a goodly number of hills so I took things easy. My pride didn’t prevent my dismounting where the gradients might have been too much. The journey between Meerbrook and Rushton Spencer comes to mind as the most testing but splendid views more than made up for my exertions. The other climb that remains in my memory is the stretch of the A523 between Rushton and Leek and Leek is not exactly flat either. Apart from breaks to take in views of Rudyard Reservoir, I stayed aboard the saddle while travelling on that bit.

I have been a bit tired at the end of it but this was a worthwhile day out. It has me thinking about further incursions into Staffordshire’s moorlands, possibly making use of the frequent train connections between Macclesfield and Stoke on Trent and the better bus connections between there and destinations such as Leek and Biddulph from where I can go walking. It might take longer to go around by Stoke but it is nice to have that option. The other thought that my first trip of the year has planted in my mind is to go for more cycling outings and I am even thinking beyond Cheshire and Staffordshire on this one. So long as I can stop thoughts of hassle with train travel and the fear of getting marooned by a puncture stymieing my enthusiasm, who knows what could happen? Previously, explorations of Northumberland’s coast, Howgill country and Perthshire have come to mind so the possibilities are there. Only time will tell whether I get to doing anything about them.

Yorkshire Water seem to very keen on encouraging people to enjoy the land around their reservoirs. After all, they do have a website containing useful ideas for walkers, cyclists, horse riders and so on. Unsurprisingly, I took a look from the walker’s perspective and there are route ideas with full descriptions and the same seems to be on offer to cyclists.

It’s all a far cry from the way that things were once upon a time. Before the advent of water treatment plants and their like, reservoirs and the land round about them were out of bounds for the general public lest the supplies got contaminated. That mindset certain applied in Longdendale and also was behind the building of the Mourne Wall among the mountains of the same name in Northern Ireland. Aren’t we lucky that we live in more enlightened times? And yes, I know that they are far from perfect…

Whenever a fine day offers, I’m off on my bike to work and often take a longer route home than I took to get there. Over the years, I have managed to get in the odd recreational cycle as well. When still in Ireland, I was wont to go for regular cycles around my native West Limerick during summer holidays, and in all weathers! These days, I am far more choosy about cycling conditions. In Scotland, my biking has taken me all around Loch Tay, up along Glen Lochay and across the Isle of Skye from Portree to Dunvegan and back, all on hired/borrowed bicycles. Since I moved south to England, I have taken a bike around Yorkshire, Cheshire and even Derbyshire. I must admit that I have never ventured into Wales with a bike, though.

When based in Skipton, my cycling forays took me up into Wharfedale. One took me on to Bolton Abbey, Burnsall and Grassington before I made my back to Skipton via Threshfield. Later on, I continued past Threshfield to Cray at the head of Wharfedale, taking in Kilnsey Crag, Kettlewell, Starbotton and Buckden. As if to prove how fast weather can change, a dull day turned into a fabulous evening in the space of an hour or so. As luck would have it, I forgot my camera; I have more than made up for that since then.

These days my cycling forays seem to be limited to Cheshire, though I did cycle back to Macclesfield from Stoke-on-Trent one Friday evening during this past summer. Tatton Park, Little Moreton, Astbury, Gawsworth Hall, Lower Peover: they’ve all been ports of call on cycling trips. One evening, I headed over the top to Buxton, a cycle ride involved steep hills that caused me to think that hillwalking might be a worthwhile activity when exploring wild places. I cycled there but a train took me back to Hazel Grove, from where I returned to Macclesfield. The thought of re-encountering steep slopes caused me to rethink my return.

Following the Buxton trip, I restricted my cycles to the flatter parts of Cheshire but the thought of extending my range beyond has come more to the fore this year. There are two sides to this: getting around the limitations of patchy public transport networks and reducing the amount of tedious walking (yes, it does exist).

As regards the first of these, one possibility that comes to mind is the area around Sedbergh and Kirkby Stephen in Cumbria. The paucity of public transport provision is patchy makes a bike look a very liberating device, especially when it comes to exploring the Howgills. Highland Perthshire is very like this part of Cumbria in this regard and having a bike would make exploring the mountains around Loch Tay a reality without the need for a car. Other parts of Highland Scotland are like this too. For instance, a bike would really make light work of the trek from Fort William to Gairlochy (a soul-destroying walk, if ever there was one) and open up the delights of Loch Arkaig. In the spirit of this, speeding along an estate road would shorten many a walk-in, a fact that has not lost on writers in TGO and Trail. One example that comes to mind is the prospect of exploring the landscape around Loch Ericht, a great example in my view.

When I was staying in Pitlochry, I had a passing cyclist joking that I, then in full hillwalking gear awaiting a bus to take me to the start of another walk, was doing things the slow way. Highland Perthshire, like many parts of the U.K., has its share of the National Cycle Network and that puts further ideas into my head. Coming south of the English border, Northumberland has a share and this raises the possibility of exploring Northumberland’s coastline by bike, an enticing prospect.

As you can see from this, I got quite a few ideas in mind. Now, all I have got to do it get around to turning them into reality and get over my fear of getting a puncture and missing a train home…