Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Last July, I popped over to a rainy Douglas on a day trip from Dublin but my only being in one place and and time limitations meant that the Isle of Man remained one of those places that to me are terra incognito. However, I did come away with guidebooks and travel timetables that would come in useful for a longer visit like that I made over the Mayday bank holiday weekend. One thing that they revealed was that there was no way that I could make the best of all of the island's attractions in a few days; I'd have to pick and choose.

It's as if there's a little something for everyone from gentle promenade strolling to railway heritage to hillwalking. Spending time around the likes of Castletown, Laxey or Ramsey would easily fill up a few days, it appears. If my memory serves me correctly, there was a music festival ongoing in Ramsey over the course of the weekend for those seeking a bit of culture. The islands's steam railway was running extra services on the Sunday too so they were aiming to please.

Of course, I was after a simpler pleasure: going for a walk in alluring countryside. It so turns out that there's plenty to offer there too and the mix is of coastal and hill country exploration. A collection of long distance trails give structure to any planning and there are quite a few from which to choose. First up is the island's main coastal trail, Raad ny Foillan in Manx Gaelic (and on all signs) or Road of the Gull as it is in English. After that, there's the Millennium Way that passes through the hill country at the heart of the island as it goes from Ramsey to Castletown (or vice versa, if you prefer) either shadowing or following the route taken by the Manx Kings in olden times when Castletown was the island's administrative centre. Complementing its north-south direction is an east-west trail called the (Steam) Heritage Trail that follows the former railway alignment from Douglas to Peel. Then, there's the Bayr ny Skeddan (the Manx Gaelic again is what you'll find on any waymarkers) or Herring Way that follows an old route taken by fishermen between the posts of Peel and Castletown. As if these weren't enough to keep anyone busy, there are other public rights of way too so there's nothing to stop you creating your own long distance trot if you so desired it.

Given that there are enough options to keep anyone busy for a few weeks, I needed to select something for my few days. That ended up being a part or two of Raad ny Foillan with the main piece being the section between Port Erin and Peel on the Sunday. Saturday was taken up with travelling but there was some poking around of Douglas and Onchan later in the day. Given that the most recommended part of Raad ny Foillan in my reading was between Port Erin and Port St. Mary, I was tempted to walk this shorter stretch on Monday before I left for home. However, fatigue following the previous in conjunction with the attractions of Peel on a sunny day drew me back around there for a final fling and some photographic action.

Saturday

While flying would have made a tempting travel option, I stuck with the rail and ferry combination that served me so well in July. That made my starting time a more civilised affair and it was 14:00 when I arrived in Douglas. The fact that I had left sunny weather after me on the British mainland could have been troubling but the situation was put out of my mind because there was plenty of time for the sun to make its appearance. Given that the air was dry anyway, there could be no complaint as I set about locating facilities such as the bus and railway stations (there are two of the latter with a steam railway serving the south as far as Port Erin and electric trams serving the north as far as Ramsey; the island has more of a railway heritage than you'd expect). My trots took me along the promenade (part of Raad ny Foillan; the coastal path offers variety) and around the town of Douglas before heading out the coast around Onchan before returning through its main street. Save for the cliffs that I admired, there wasn't so much of a wild feel to this daundering but the next day was to address that deficit. Given my unfamiliarity with the place, it probably was just as well that I made a stronger acquaintance with my whereabouts.

Sunday

Overnight, cloudiness had given way to blue skies and sunshine. The pleasant start to the day wasn't wasted even if it meant a late getaway to Port Erin. By that time, any white streaks in the sky may have come to be replaced by wads of clouds but they did nothing to dispel the sense of satisfaction already granted by the day. Travel on the upper deck of a double decker bus allowed wider views over the surrounding countryside and road works meant a stop to progress that allowed me to cast an eye and even aim a camera lens in the direction of Snaefell, the island's highest summit. The bus called at Ronaldsway Airport before negotiating the narrow and appealing streets of Castletown, once the island's capital and still in possession of its castle. The place certainly looked deserving of a longer visit but my plans were set, even if they meant leaving some of the sun after me.

Port Erin was cloudy and overcast when I arrived so there wasn't much camera activity on my part as I sought out the start of my walk. Signs for the Road of the Gull were conspicuous by their absence so paying close attention to a map was unavoidable. While taking a break between sessions of map studying, a friendly local pointed me to Bradda Glen without my asking; it was to lead me in the right direction. Whatever thoughts I may have had regarding the navigational ease of coastal walking, doubts remained in my mind as to the correctness of my course. Nevertheless, Milners Tower was a useful landmark as I made my way towards it and that act granted views south towards the Calf of Man. On a sunnier day, I might have been struggling with lens flare but the largely overcast conditions still condemned any photos to being record shots. It was a turning into day for walking and not photography.

Leaving Milners Tower after me, I gained height on the way up Bradda Hill. As I did so, the path took me sufficiently close to the cliff edge as to concentrate my mind and it was breezy at the time too. Eventually, the path pulled in from the edge to allow any vistas to be enjoyed in a more relaxed state of mind. Not only did they feature what lay behind me but also what lay ahead of me with Lhiattee ny Beinnee and Cronk ny Arrey Laa looming to the north with less taxing rolling countryside lying beyond them again. Looking east drew my eyes to less wild parts from my wilder outpost with even Port St. Mary coming into view.

Bradda Hill felt loftier than its more than 200 metres of altitude might suggest and I felt every metre of that on the steep descent to sea level. The worn surface of the path wasn't the most confidence-inspiring either but I had been in that situation so many times that I just got on with the job with Fleshwick Wood to my right. After dipping my boots in the Irish Sea at Fleshwick Bay, I soon started to pay for all that loss of height on the first of the Carnanes. Apart from the toll from all the exertion, patience was tested too and time felt as if it was speeding by on me without much in the way of distance covered.

Eventually, the gradients eased and it was gentler ambling to the top of Lhiattee ny Beinnee before I lost 100 metres again; the first half of my walk was having lots of ups and downs but this probably is the hilliest part of the coastal trail and my choice of route was guaranteed to keep me busy for the day. Looking to my right, I could see how much flatter the land was and I could make out the eastern coastline of the island. the day. There were easier walks if I so desired them but I'd be wondering if I was missing out then.

After coming down from Lhiattee ny Beinnee, I spotted a track that skirted its lower slopes. For those wanting a less taxing stroll, this may have been an option with an off-road start from Surby, not so far from Port Erin. In fact, I spotted a mountain biker heading exactly for that end as I was stopped for some food by the side of the A36. From there, it was on up the slopes of Cronk ny Arrey Laa, the highest point of my hike and where patience was needed again on the ascent. Skies darkened over me as I kept gaining height and I wondered if I was in for a wetting. Luckily, it never developed beyond a few drops that were gone by the time that I reached the summit so I could stop and take in the surroundings, among which was the hill of South Barrule and a triangulation pillar placed away from the summit of the hill. The latter seems to be the Manx order of things if finding the same arrangement on two different tops is typical.

Getting down from Cronk ny Arrey Laa required due care and attention so as to go in my intended direction and not another. Once I avoided any navigational pitfalls, I found that my ascent had taken me up the hill's gentler side because it's no walk in the park if you are coming at it from the north as I suspect many do. Going downhill as I was meant that I wasn't so concerned about gradients but there were boggier stretches and sunken paths to negotiate later on. Even so, it didn't take me too long to come to a junction of paths near Eary Cushlin. Things looked less certain so I invented my own route using the Isle of Man Survey 1:25000 map that was in my hands rather than poking around near cliff edges even if the land was owned by the Manx National Trust. Also, increasing time consciousness had its own contribution to the decision too.

My alternative took me onward via a good public footpath and a bridleway that really didn't merit the classification. It was so rutted that anyone taking a horse, bicycle or motorcycle over it without having to rethink their plans would amaze me. Even with the diversion, I never was far from the coast and I met up with Raad ny Foillan gain to look back about saw how clear the way looked from that end. From there, I followed the trail onto tarmac where it passes through Dalby and didn't leave the A27 until near Glen Maye. If I was following the OS Landranger map for the Isle of Man, my route might have been slightly different with a diversion around by Niarbyl. Apparently, its southern views are very pleasing but I was getting plenty of those anyway.

Leaving the road, I picked up a well signed path that was to drop me to sea level and take me along a little of Glen Maye before I gained height again though it was nothing tortuous or like the stiffer climbs that I encountered earlier in the day. From there, the trail really hugged the coast but I dealt with that and any undulations that came my way without any real drama. Corrins Tower still lay ahead of me as it had done since commencing the descent of Cronk ny Arrey Laa but steadily came nearer and nearer.

At this stage in the walk, I was keeping an eye on the time to see which bus would taking me from Peel back to Douglas again. Even so, my mind was concentrated by the proximity of cliff edges and views towards the hill country not far to the east of me. Knockaloe Plantation drew nearer in its own good time as did Corrins Hill. Eventually, I was go along the seaward slopes of the latter and that proved to be the most unsettling part of the journey; seeing a path (even a wide one) following a shelf over nearby cliffs does tend to set you mind racing… Nevertheless, I did scuttle along that shelf to reach more friendly surroundings and a vehicle track for a nearby transmitter.

Views over Peel opened out before me with a passing shower making a rainbow without even nearing where I stood. For the way down, I ended up eschewing the coastal trail for the vehicle track and was rewarded with ample views over Peel Castle and up along the coast in the fading evening light. It was a just way to end a walk that had taken its toll with all those ups and downs. The last act was to navigate through Peel's narrow winding streets to get to a bus stop in time; that nearly was the toughest navigational test of the day and with a tired head too. As I journeyed east again, I counted myself lucky to have avoided any rain while out on the trail because the rain showers through which the bus passed weren't the lightest. In fact, the only real wetting of the weekend was from light rain while I walked the last stretch to my lodgings and that didn't bother me so much at the time. On a weekend with an uncertain weather forecast, you cannot decry things like this.

Monday

After the previous day's endeavours, I decided on an easier morning before I returned home again. Having not had much sun while wandering the west coast, I decided on a return to Peel when it looked like a day of blue skies and sunshine. Rushing around the coast, if that's even possible, between Port and Port St. Mary didn't sound far and I was carrying all of my kit for the trip anyway. As it happened, I ended up taking in a short circuit around Peel.

What I had in mind was to mount Corrins Hill and take in the surrounding vistas and make some photos of them if I was careful with lens flare. To do that, I picked up the bit of Raad ny Foillan that I missed off the evening before and took a relaxed approach so as to soaking in the views. Sharing some words with a talkative chap taught me that the Mull of Galloway could be seen to the north. There was little sign of the Mourne Mountains of Northern Ireland but I reckon that I got to see them the evening before anyway.

After staying a while on Corrins Hill, my little trot took me downhill to pick up a piece of Bayr ny Skeddan before meeting up with the Heritage Way, part of the former railway between Peel and Douglas. Back in Peel again, I headed towards the castle and followed the promenade while en route to the stance for a bus back east. Seeing a lad with rucksack and other paraphernalia must have looked strange to anyone after gentle seaside fair but Peel is quite a mixture anyway. First, there's heritage with the ruins of a castle, narrow winding streets and a cathedral. Then, there's industry with an electricity generating station and fishing. Following all of that is pleasure, be it from sailing, gentle strolls by the waterfront or more taxing ones around nearby hills. Might it be a worthwhile base for a walking trip? That may remain to be seen but it's an idea.

A Place to Return?

Funnily enough, someone who I met on my wanderings did ask if I'd be coming back to the Isle of Man. While I couldn't give a definite answer to that query because the future is not anyone's to see, there are plenty of reasons for a return. After all, I only could sample a small piece of the island's delights in the few days that I was there. Weatherwise, it was kind to me even if I chose what probably is the toughest part of the coastal trail. The Isle of Man may not be the largest of locations but it is packed full of quiet corners as I found, even when you aren't far from built up areas. You could say that my long hike on Sunday brought me into no conflict with anyone and most of its length was nearly as quiet as what you'd find on South Uist too. Douglas wasn't as busy as you might expect either and there was plenty of space on the headlands of Port Erin and Peel for all of us. The Isle of Man feels like a good place for a quiet getaway; that certainly is how it came across to me. While I'd avoid the time around the TT, I'd have no qualms about returning to savour the coast between Port Erin and Port St. Mary or places like Castletown, Laxey or Ramsey.

Travel Arrangements:

Return train journey from Macclesfield to Liverpool with changes in Stockport. Isle of Man Steam Packet Company ferry between Liverpool and Douglas. Bus travel from Douglas to Port Erin or between Douglas and Peel.

With a bank holiday weekend in prospect, I somehow managed to fix up a trip to the Isle of Man with some walking in mind. Though weather forecasts were mixed, I took the chance anyway and that even was after my drenching while on a day trip there. Manannan may be a mythical being who uses mist as a protector but this Irishman wasn't deterred by that first encounter last July.

This past weekend, the weather over there was far kinder with the only rain that gave me any sort of wetting being the lighter variety that frequented Douglas on Sunday night or the few drops that I thought I felt while crossing over Cronk ny Arrey Laa earlier in the day; heavier stuff may have fallen while I journeyed back from Peel after a day of walking but I was under cover then. A rainbow was spied around Peel on the approach to the end of my walk but any rain was away from me. Otherwise, it was dry with a mix of cloudy skies or blue ones letting the sun out to bring the best from the countryside, coastline and seascapes. The walking was a mix of poking around Douglas and Onchan on Saturday followed by a testing hike from Port Erin to Peel on Sunday and a far gentler potter around the latter under sunny skies before leaving the island on Monday.

All in all, it was a good sampling of the delights of the island's countryside and I left with more to explore. Examples include the area around Snaefell, the island's highest hill, the kinder northern shoreline and the populous areas around Laxey and Ramsey. Having to choose between so so much left me feeling torn as to what to do. The only cure for times when you have a few days and really need a week is to savour what you can and leave the rest for another time should it ever come. From what I have enjoyed already, I clearly see that there are plenty of good reasons to go again.

There are plans afoot to say more but there was a time when such a brief resumé would have constituted a trip report on here. That was back in the early days of this blog and the brevity of the report for a weekend in Pembrokeshire surprises. Thoughts of expanding it come to mind but I don't know how vivid four year old memories are. Returning to the area to explore more of its delights might be a good way of conveying this blog along through a little more of its fifth year. Time hasn't exactly stood still since those tentative steps taken after a Mayday bank holiday weekend divided between Fort William, Inverness and Pitlochry with a longer walk from Corrour to Spean Bridge fitted in among all the journeying. Rereading that account now reminds me how I have changed what goes on here: more on the actual walking and less on travel and accommodation. It is in that vein that I plan to continue and reading the writings of others must have had something to do with it.

Before Christmas 2009, I tried making a start on this round-up but the attempt came to a full stop. One cause was a memory block and a certain loss of chronology in the trip report postings. Along with this, end of year fatigue and lack of inspiration had their parts to play too. The latter came home to roost when I failed to capture the year in a nutshell. It's a chicken and egg sort of problem: you have to get writing to crack what it is that lies at the heart of your planned jottings but you also need a theme in mind before you can get writing. Perhaps, it is for that reason that a month by month structure falls into place for these pieces each year.

Eventually, I cracked the problem and here is the posting that fell into place. At its heart lies a few recurring themes that the words reconnaissance and rediscovery help to convey. The first of these turns up a lot in the trip summary and reflects my iterative approach to exploring the countryside. While there are times when I go somewhere and it all falls into place, there are many when I am setting things up for a return. The second refers to my realisation after a ten year spell (call it a decade if you want) that was a lengthening list of places where I hadn't been for a while. Compounding that was a review of photos in the gallery that revealed that a new visit was in order to make new replacement photos. Having another go at image processing can only do so much and that especially applies to scanning prints. It was a successful tack when it came to encouraging to go back to locations that once used to attract a lot of my attention.

Still on the subject of rediscovery, the joys of two-wheeled travel along country lanes were enjoyed too. Before the pedestrian hill wandering took hold, cycling was the way that I did all my exploring but 2007 didn't see much time spent on my bike. That was addressed in 2008 and continued into last year. On some of my walking trips, the usefulness of cycling was brought home to me and 2010 may become a year when I go away somewhere and hire out a bike for a little while, something that I haven't done for more than a decade. Who knows but I may get to taking my bike with me to somewhere further afield once I get over a certain fear of the consequences of mechanical failure or a wheel getting punctured.

Slowly Building Up A Head Of Steam

Appropriately for a year that was to see me revisiting a number of locales where I hadn't been for a while, the first walking trip was on familiar local turf. Mind you, it take me until the last Saturday of January to get things moving and you really end up with tight leg muscles if you decide to go up a hill in such blustery conditions that even standing upright takes a huge effort. That hike started outside the Cat and Fiddle pub before dropping down towards Wildboarclough and going up again to the top of Shutlingsloe before dropping back into Macclesfield again.

Two descriptions that were to fit February of last year were freezing and frenzied. The first of these was down to a visit to British shores by a spell of cold and snowy weather that tested out a Mountain Equipment down jacket obtained at a knockdown price in the January sales. Though the cold snap was nowhere near as severe as the one that we have had since before Christmas, mountain rescue teams were littering the media with warnings about the need for winter skills and equipment. Even so, that did little to stymie my walking in four nations in four weekends, the last of these slipping into March. Nevertheless, the first of these was a low level walk along Great Langdale that followed the Cumbrian Way for much of the journey to Ambleside. Even though I stayed low, that's not to say that I didn't need to keep my eyes peel for ice on the ground and some of it was none too nice, if I remember correctly. That Cumbrian adventure was followed by an Irish escapade, my first ever dedicated hillwalking trip over there. Snow still abounded though it was on the retreat and I was to find bare rock near the top of the Great Sugarloaf not far from Kilmacanogue. The outing was a good start and on a mild springy if grey day but it needs following up on a suitable occasion. After one outing on the western side of the Irish sea, there was another on its eastern flanks. That took me to Dyffryn Ardudwy in Wales for a circular yomp around by Moelfre with clag covering even lower tops. That put an end to any idea of reaching the summit of Moelfre but it didn't mean that the day was spoilt; low cloud has its own appeal too and the sun did get through from time to time, especially near the coast where I found old burial chambers reminiscent of Irish dolmens. After walks in England, Ireland and Wales, it was Scotland's turn and the escapade was a very wet one with an hour or two of dryness and sunshine. The starting point was Tarbet on the shores of Loch Lomond and I rounded the lower slopes of Cruach Tarbet before doing the same with the head of Loch Long and following Glen Croe to reach Rest and Be Thankful. There was some dryness at my finishing point after a wet weather walk up the glen but Argyll soon got if hefty shower conveyor belt going to convince me that I was going home at the right time.

The remainder of March was quiet so it was over to April to be busier and it is here where the order of things got a bit confusing so I'll eschew the practice of following chronological order. At Easter, I fitted in a memorable if short first visit to Aviemore to spend a wonderful day around Rothiemurchus with some ascent of lesser summits to really set off the proceedings. Other outings were less dramatic and featured a contorted trot from Congleton to Leek on a mixture of public rights of way. There may have been a battle between sun and cloud overhead but the walk was not spoilt at all. A long overdue return trip to Derbyshire was in the same vein with the low-level walking offering a perfect opportunity to break in a pair of Meindl Burma boots that I purchase in the January sales at a knockdown price. My chosen route shadowed the River Derwent between Baslow and Matlock. My choice of starting point exposed me to a busy Chatsworth with a TVR owners' meet no doubt helping the visitor numbers. The hoards were lost by continuing south on an ever brightening afternoon. In between all of this, there was a trip to Wales for a hike from Dolwyddelan to Llyn Idwal on a gloriously hot sunny day that needed the hat that I purchased in Capel Curig after rounding Carnedd Moel Siabod. There may not have been so much height gain involved but I was content with being surrounded by hills.

Into Early Summer

May started with a trip to Eden or, to be more precise, to Cumbria's Eden Valley. I hadn't ever gone walking around Appleby-in-Westmorland before but this was to become a good introduction. This is Pennine Way country and I was to find my way onto the said trail in the vicinity of High Cup Nick. Any designs on reaching the Nick were stymied by a late train but a good day of walking was enjoyed on an ever improving afternoon when cloud surrendered to the sun. Another sampling of the verdant scenery that makes May my favourite month of the year took my from Leek back home to Macclesfield. It might have been Plan B on the day but I was rewarded for my patience around Tittesworth Reservoir with wondrous piece and quiet as I continued to Dane Bridge from where I picked my way for the rest of the journey home. Another Cumbrian outing completes the set for the month with a jaunt from Coniston by way of the Cumbrian Way and Loughrigg Fell, an idea inspired by a cold weather trip in May. It was not quietest of routes and the day was sure to draw the masses anyway but it had its quieter stretches too.

The Cumbrian theme continued into June with my embarking on a walk from Kirkstone Pass to Windermere by way of Stony Cove Pike, Threshthwaite Mouth, Park Fell and Troutbeck Park. It was a day often spent in the sort of splendid isolation that allows some clearance of mind. Any idea of taking the high route around by Ill Bell was left for another occasion in the interests of time. The steep ascent from Stony Cove Pike may have had its role in persuading me of the sense of a lower level route. There was a weekend visit to Scotland too with a wet and dry perambulation along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe to Kinlochleven. The start was none too promising but the improvement soon started but, while I sorted out some hill identification by topping out on Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin, the idea of obtaining better photos than those which I already had has yet to be fulfilled. With the scenery that resides up there, there's never any harm in returning time after time. The day after saw me enjoying a resplendent Sunday morning stroll among Inverness' leafier parts; the Ness Islands are well worth finding. As was to be the case throughout the summer, my bike was carrying me out on local outings with an evening trip around by Congleton and an hot afternoon cycle taking in a busy Tatton Park and a quieter Duham Massey. After that deluge of outdoors activity, the month ended with a social trip to Ireland that took in the hills around Gougane Barra and the cliffs around Kilkee.

Barbecue Summer?

Except for ongoing local cycling trips, July was a much quieter month for me and the weather that we got was to make a mockery of the barbecue summer predictions in the long term forecast from the Met Office (these must have become an embarrassment by now and the winter forecast was more accurate). The month did start with a visit to Liverpool while on a damp day trip to the Isle of Man, a place where I hadn't gone before and hope to revisit sometime for some hill country hiking. Even with a continuous mixture of weather, I found a dry afternoon (and evening) at the end of the month to go walking from Kidsgrove to Wheelock. Along the way, I took in Mow Cop before getting to the Macclesfield Canal on the South Cheshire Way and then crossing to the Trent and Mersey Canal for the remainder of the trek.

August proved to be more active on the hillwalking front and it began with a flourish too. A day spent walking around Cwm Cau may have caught more low cloud than sun but what could have been a continually hot August day had its cooler interludes. It was that point that kept annoyance at bay when I saw sun gracing the sands near Barmouth. Generally, August was like July in that a mixed bag of weather was on offer. There may have been visions of basing myself in Mallaig for a week and spreading out to the likes of the Small Isles, Knoydart, Ardnamurchan and Glenfinnan but I was deflected by thoughts of seeing the are in less than ideal conditions. The result was that I headed east to Aviemore for a few days instead and the weather offered quiet a mixture, quite unlike the faultless day spent up there earlier in the year. Day one got me a soaking as I walking over the summits of Meall a’ Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a’ Chaillich and Craiggowrie and dampness wouldn't leave well alone as I went exploring around Craigellachie. Day two was better behaved with only light showers about while on what became a low-level reconnaissance walk Inshriach that took in Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean. The evening saw me seek out the start of the Speyside Way in much the same vein. Day three had an unforecasted damp start that was the cause of my making use of the Strathspey Railway, an experience that changed my mind about steam locomotives. After that, it was onto Glen More where more "rooting around" ensued as I reached Strath Nethy under dull skies that were battling the sun. Later, I followed the "Old Logging Way" back to Aviemore to await the overnight train for the south. That wasn't all of my Scottish wandering because the end of the month saw me ensconced in Edinburgh with the Festival in its death throes. An escape to the Pentland Hills occupied Saturday after a stroll over Salisbury Crags. What otherwise was a dry sunny day was punctuated by light rain showers but there still was much to enjoy. There may have been notions of an excursion to Melrose but they were parked for an easier day around the city revisiting old haunts. For now, the Eildon Hills lay unvisited but there always needs to be a reason to return. That itself reminds of what I did between those Scottish outings when I cycled to and from Lyme Park near Disley in Cheshire. The outbound route took in the Middlewood Way, Marple and part of the Macclesfield Canal while the way back went out the back gate of Lyme to take a more hilly course that skirted Kettleshulme and dropped into Pott Shrigley and Bollington. The latter course may have involved more walking due to the gradients encountered and under ever whitening skies. The cycling was broken otherwise by restful exploration of Lyme Park on what was a busy day. Nevertheless, I still found a quiet spot where I could linger while and discover one of the joys of cycling: having more time to loiter in between all the travel. It was all part of a little photography project of mine that was sending sending me around by various locations in the hope of improving the Cheshire album in the photo gallery. That was set to prove successful though there are other places that I'd like to revisit with the same purpose in mind. Anything that gets you out of doors has to be a good thing.

A Quieter Time Following A Rush

It seems that every busy month is either preceded or followed by a quieter one and August had both. September was less frenetic though there was a social visit to Ireland at the start of the month. Apart from a walk around by Springfield Castle, there was no Irish excursion of note while I was over there. An "Indian summer" visited us later in September and the realisation that I hadn't been there for a few years sent me back to Wharfedale in Yorkshire. The weather on the day was splendid and many were out and about. To a point, that limited the enjoyment of walking all the Wharfe between Burnsall and Howgill but it was quieter from there on and there was plenty of space for all around Bolton Abbey. The last stretch to Ilkley offered plenty of solitary moments should they have been required.

October wasn't the busiest of months for outdoor trips either though I did make my way to the Yorkshire Dales again. This time, it was a circular walk around Ingleton that drew me. That took in limestone country and crossed both Scales Moor and Ingleborough. Sunshine was a rare commodity until late in the day but that didn't dull the delights of being among limestone pavements and outcrops. On a brighter day, it would have been photographic heaven so I'll keep the idea on file for when such an opportunity arises. The same applies to explorations of the Lune Valley along which I had made my way while travelling out from Lancaster and back again.

Waking Up For The Winter

People in Cumbria will have good reason to remember last November and not for the best of reasons. The deluges were partially to blame for my outdoors activity being limited to a day trip to Chester with urban strolls there and around Stockport. My giving old photos the treatment that they needed was the cause of spending a lot of spare time sat in front of a computer too so I set up a plan to snap myself out from what was beginning to feel like a rut.

The result of that plotted escape was a weekend trip to Fort William at the start of December and the it started with a frosty morning too. The evening before saw me getting drenched while picking up tickets for the Caledonian Sleeper that was to carry me north overnight. While cloud was advancing from the southwest, I enjoyed the morning sunshine with a stroll around Fort William before heading out to Morar for a spot of reconnaissance after taking in the sights from the train while on way over there. The next day was relentlessly cloudy while I set to undertake my first visit to Ardgour. It looked as if Glen Coe was catching the sun but some ideas have been planted in my mind for future excursions. As if to draw me back again, the sun seemed to making a better battle with the clouds and I on my way home on the day after. The weekend reminded me of the plans that might have come to fruition in August but I wonder if the way that things have come about is better. A Sunday afternoon visit to Derbyshire followed a week later but an onset of wet conditions may have put paid to any notions that my Scottish break had been a week too early. Even so, I enjoyed a walk from Edale to Hope that took in Mam Tor and the Great Ridge. What amazed me was how fast I got from the top of Lose Hill to Hope's train station and with some time to spare before a Manchester train came along too. It still was a nice complement to the few hours spent testing a puncture repair on a cycle that took in some of Cheshire's hill country as well. They were the last outings of 2009 that I made before snow came and visited us. For making something of the white stuff, I embarked on a local stroll that took in the Macclesfield Canal, Tegg's Nose, the Gritstone Trail and Rainow. The lying snow was pristine and clear skies allowed the sun to do its magic so I reached home again satisfied with what was gained by my labours. A trip across the Irish Sea completed the year and, though another social one, there were hikes around by Springfield Castle and Kilmeedy in West Limerick.

And so to 2010…

In summary, there was quite a mix of destinations with new locations like Wicklow and the Cairngorms mixed in with local haunts in Cheshire and places visited a while back. 2010 is without big plans and has a feeling of a watershed about it. The idea of doing something a little different from previous years appeals. As of now, I have no idea what it might be but it won't be a case of consigning all previous things to the bin. Saying that, having a bit more variety and less repetition wouldn't be a bad thing.

While penning yesterday's missive regarding the forthcoming availability of OSi mapping data from Mapyx, I had little idea of what was in the pipeline from Anquet. Until now, Anquet's established offering in the digital mapping arena was restricted to areas on Great Britain. Unless I missed something, not even Northern Ireland got a look in while Scotland's islands and even the Isle of Man were very well covered. However, an email from them this morning suggests that will be changing.

Apparently, Anquet is also planning to make OSi 1:50000 digital mapping available as part of a move to include more countries in its portfolio. Quite what is driving this expansion is open to question but it is an exciting development whether they are moving into new territorial markets or they are banking on British outdoors lovers fancying a spot of overseas explorations who would like the planning of such escapades to be easier. Whatever the reasoning, they seem to be starting with Éire so let's hope that Northern Ireland isn't forgotten in the rush.

Seeing two mainstays of the British digital mapping market featuring Irish data has to make you wonder what other players like Memory Map or Tracklogs have in hand. After all, if this is due to a push on the part of the OSi, there may be more to come. Thinking about it now, having Mapyx and Anquet selling OSi 1:50000 Discovery data does follow on from its availability on Geolives since the start of the year. That development may have signalled a break from digital mapping being provided on a country by country basis and that's no bad thing at all. In fact, things have got a bit more exciting now that it has happened, an unthinkable occurrence in times when paper maps were all that we had.

With all of the attention given to winter hibernation, it is easy to forget that there is summertime laziness too. Regular readers will realise that I prize the period of the year between the winter solstice and its summer equivalent highly and especially the eruption of verdant vegetation that gives us the wonders of May. The trouble with that is that the wind can evade your sails after the longest day of the year and you get to wondering if the year has past its best like I did on here about this time last year. This time around, I am less bothered by the matter and am seemingly more open to the attractions of the time of year and the observation that the countryside still delights even with cloudy skies.

Speaking of last year, July was a quiet month with a perhaps foolish walking trip to Welshpool on an oppressively hot Sunday at the end of the month. Apart from that, it was left to bike rides to capture any episodes of dry or sunny weather because of other preoccupations and distractions about this time; some involvement with dramatic activion in the world of WordPress was only partly to blame.

It’s all too easy to have a bout of mid-year lethargy round about now. For one thing, feeling that you have made ample use of any opportunities that arose can only dull the hunger for thrusting oneself into hill country. That can place your motivation at the mercy of other things like the weather. On one end of the spectrum, you have heavy rain showers like those that we have been seeing recently, the type that makes the idea of mobile roof appealing and the heat emphasises the advantages of umbrellas over raincoats in certain conditions. Then, there’s hot sunshine and my running hot means that I favour cooler temperatures than some. Also, classic summer weather isn’t the best for photography, another mechanism that gets out among those hills. Saying that, pleasant mornings ahead of a rain or wonderful evenings after one often offer the most. These circumstances offer a certain freshness and clarity that is missing from heat haze obstructed equivalents that abound during a heatwave.

The myth may indicate otherwise but July can be a very unsettled month, even in a year not known for a rubbish summer. In 1999 for instance, it was very grey in Edinburgh until the end of the month when a sunny propelled me onto Skye on a multi-day outing that sowed the seeds for many more. Speaking of Scotland, you end up awaiting the departure of the jet stream before settled weather is visited upon the country. In 2003, I called it wrong and had my week up there far too early. Though it felt that I was getting a constant soaking at the time, looking back does highlight its brighter times: a wonderful day spent beside Loch Etive and a dry if dull trot from Kinlochleven to Fort William along the West Highland Way. Staying with hindsight, it might have been better sticking with reconnaissance on the damper days but the soakings that I got while travelling between my lodgings in Banavie and Fort William couldn’t have been avoided by this approach. However, I did keep it in mind for my Western Isles escapade last year and foul weather alternatives will be placed on file for any trip in August. That isn’t to say that July is always damp but 2006 saw a scorcher visited upon us and I extricated something of value amid the uncertainties in 2004 and 2005 too. Last year and the year before were far from inspiring but dry sunny weather was there to be enjoyed too and that’s how I’ll remember them.

All in all, that mixture should tell us that it’s best not to expect much of July and this year seems to be following suit after the dryness of June. Last weekend mixed in downpours and sunshine so I grabbed the opportunity for a day sailing trip from Liverpool to to the Isle of Man. As it turned out, I left a grey Liverpool for a damp Douglas that made me glad that I hadn’t committed to spending a lot of time on the island. Along the way, I learnt a little more about what is offer over there and thoughts are turning to longer trips, more realistically to be occasional but a useful entry on the ideas shelf nonetheless. From what I have seen so far, there seems to be plenty of coastal walking and there’s hill country to be savoured too. Public transport on the Isle of Man looks workable too with good level of service on offer. Sunshine may have been encountered in Liverpool rather than my destination but I am not so easily discouraged. If I was, I might have stopped exploring the British and Irish countryside long ago.

Ideas for that week in August are collecting and they aren’t all Scottish either. For one thing, there’s always the Pennine Way but Connemara has come to mind already and now the Isle of Man. Scottish proposals like the Rob Roy Way, extending out from Mallaig, the Cairngorms and the northwest Highlands remain in the running. The options may be more open this year but it’s good to have them too. Hopefully, something can come of them.