Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Because my head for heights is far from being in the top tier, I usually watch the gradients that I am crossing so to avoid ever being frozen by fright. The same consideration means that scrambling is not one of my outdoor pursuits and may explain why climbing holds no appeal for me. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean that I never ever end up successfully negotiating rocky crags while on the way up or down a slope. A walk from Kirkstone to Windermere a week ago on Sunday was a case in point and the question that continually entered my mind on the more challenging stretches pertained to finding a way to negotiate something rather than whether it was possible or impossible for me. To my own mind, that’s a positive step forward from the usual trepidation. The trick is always to remain safe either when going up and, especially so, on the way down. There was only one occasion on the descent when I asked myself whether there was a way around a difficulty. In the event, there was and I gingerly got myself around it with a certain amount of satisfaction.

Starting from the Kirkstone Pass meant that I already had a head start with regard to altitude but it did not make things effortless. The way up to St. Raven’s Edge was steep and crags underfoot made for careful footwork on the way. Once atop the Edge, the gradients eased markedly. In fact, there was some gentle height loss as I continued until it was gained again on the way up Pike How. It took longer to reach the summit of Stony Cove Pike than I might have liked but the longer distance made for easier slopes and opportunities to take in the fells round about me. To my east, Ill Bell and its fellow summits of Yoke, Froswick, Park Fell and Thornthwaite Crag lay in the shade while I was enjoying sunshine. The last of these hosts a beacon that was clearly visible and all were to get their turn in the sun as the day wore on. The fells to the west, those lining Scandale or making up the Fairfield horseshoe, already were catching the sun.

The gradient of the descent from Stony Cove Pike to Threshthwaite Mouth was far from kind and I was set to feel the effects on my thigh muscles for several days afterwards. Nevertheless, steady and calm progress was the order of the day as I got myself down. This is also where I met the aforementioned crux of the entire walk: a downward step that looked far too high and the idea of a leap didn’t appeal to me one bit given the amount of rock that was on view. Too many stories about what happens to those who bump themselves have detained my attention for me to take risks like that. Even so, retaining a cool head and taking my time allowed for a less adventurous or foolhardy diversion about the obstacle; all was done with presence of mind rather than terror, easier to do when you know that no one is being held up by your deliberations.

It’s one thing to be negotiating crags on a steep hillside but deciding the route you will be following next at the same sounds like overdoing multitasking. The ardour of the way down and the sight of steep slopes ahead reinforced my view that picking up a path towards Troutbeck village was the best thing to be doing with the time that was available to me; a higher route around by Ill Bell tempted but sense prevailed and it was stored on an ideas shelf that has been getting depleted lately. That gives me time to ponder the route and starting from Hartsop may be a better way to approach things, even if it means more ascent.

The path down down Park Fell Head wasn’t exactly conspicuous but having a handrail such as Trout Beck does ensure that navigational nerves were held at bay. In fact, it wavers between distinctness and non-appearance along its length, depending on whether the terrain is stony or boggy (a great path eraser). Progress was steady as I emerged from the breezy coolness of the tops into the heat of the valley bottom. Walls were met and passed and photos were taken as distance until The Tongue became ever shorter. The Tongue itself took a while to pass and I started to encounter the first folk since Threshthwaite Mouth. A bridge that I needed to cross over Trout Beck was passed in error so backtracking was in order to finding the slate construct and get back on track. The inclination of the residents of Troutbeck Park to put up signs that aren’t the friendliest to walkers (the fact that paths have been diverted since my map was published didn’t help either…) caused me to opt for diversion for Hagg Bridge that avoided any cause for upset.

Before Ing Bridge, I cheekily hopped east to the track that is known variously as High Street or Longmire Road for different parts of its length. By this point, any glimpses at my watch weren’t reassuring me so I was unable to devote much time to stopping and staring at my surroundings on what was a fabulous evening; it would have been deserved. The result was that I made for the A592 perhaps sooner than I might have done so as to ensure that I caught my train home. Apart from the surface underfoot, it’s not that as walker unfriendly as might be supposed with sidewalks appearing for some stretches with others having unmetalled paths shoehorned between the edge of the carriageway and the field fences; I think that the latter is a consequence of National Trust ownership of the adjacent land. The A591 was joined at Troutbeck Bridge with a check for any useful buses. There weren’t any so I maintained my on foot course for Windermere’s train station, getting there with some time to spare. On the way home, I was allowed a chance to steady myself after the blistering progress at the end of my walk. I am still asking myself if I tried to squeeze in too much but that’s a consideration for planning future escapades. The day had been another cracker and very different in feel to my previous Cumbrian outing with its mix of quieter places and more challenging terrain, the latter perhaps ensuring the former.

Travel Details:

Return rail journey from Macclesfield to Windermere with coach transfers between Macc and Wilmslow due to engineering works (changes at Manchester, Preston and Oxenholme on the outbound trip and at Oxenholme and Manchester on the way back). Bus 517 from Windermere to the Kirkstone Inn.

One of the nice things about a British bank holiday is that, so long as engineering works are avoided, you still can get a normal weekday train service on the day itself. That afforded me an early morning getaway to Cumbria for a day’s walking in Central Lakeland. Following the previous day’s lengthy walk, I wasn’t planning on doing anything too exhausting and so stayed away from testing gradients for a walk that took part of the Cumbria Way from Coniston to Skelwith Bridge followed by a mixture of road and footpath hiking, thankfully with more of the latter than the former, from there to Ambleside.

From the point of those who are sold on the idea of a Bank Holiday scorcher, the Spring Bank Holiday weekend was perfect in many respects. However, hot days are less good for those wanting to go wandering through the countryside. Without any semblance of a cooling breeze, there is the unavoidable strength of the sun with the heat inducing dehydration if you’re not careful. The first consideration makes a good hat and sun screen essential and ongoing watering addresses the second though regular shaded pauses are things that I am coming believe necessary too. It was also the sort of weather for shady havens next to water and I could expect to pass fleshpots as I continued on my merry way, especially given that I was staying lower down anyway.

2007 became a year when many of the trip reports that you would have found on appearing here described progress along long distance trails. Somehow, it has slipped my notice that there is one that has been edging towards completion without my consciously planning it. That trail is the Cumbria Way and I have walked most of its length between Skiddaw House and Coniston. In fact, it turns out that I have been in its vicinity all of the way, even if I didn’t follow the route to the letter; there is a missing part between Rosthwaite and Derwentwater but I ask myself if it’s worth the effort unless I added it to a longer hike because I had frequented that are a good deal anyway. Other than that there are the fells around the Back o’ Skiddaw on the way to Caldbeck and a stretch extending along the shores of Coniston Water before you get to mentioning sections beyond the Lake District proper that get you as far as Ulverston or Carlisle. The latter pieces may get left for occasions when I want something lower level and without encountering hoards along the way.

Returning to the section between Coniston and Skelwith Bridge, that was landed on the ideas shelf for a truncated day rather than the longer period of time that I had. However, the extension to Ambleside aroused caution in my mind so the bank holiday was when I made use of the option. The first trick to execute when you get anywhere is to get your bearings and so it was for me in Coniston. It may not be the biggest of places but it was my first visit so I took my time as I sought out the northbound leg of the Cumbria Way. The next entrance on the right after the leisure club is where the trail goes off road again and I set to making steady progress on National Trust land beneath the Yewdale Fells. The terrain was a mixture of woodland and pasture with gentler gradients. Others were out and about but it was far from crowded. The shadier spots like Tarn Hows Wood were welcome shelter from the heat of the day.

After a short spell over tarmac, the tarns at Tarn Hows were reached and that was were things became busy. The mixture of gentle trails, shady woodlands and water attracted the masses in droves but they remained steadfastly along the water’s edge and the required spot of negotiation didn’t take too long at all, a stone’s throw along the trail and I virtually had it all to myself. Mountain bikers made their way against me (legally, I’ll have you know) as I shortened the distance to the A593. The Way crosses the road to pick a path following the field side of a wall. This can be easy to miss so be eagle eyed with your map reading because I missed it at first and was left with the misimpression that I needed to walk along the road, not the most pleasant of things.

The trail eventually veers away from the road to follow the boundary of Tongue Intake Plantation before doing an about turn at High Park and travelling through the said woodland, a godsend on a hot sunny day. A road crossing takes you beyond the trees and onto more pastoral countryside. This was where I started to encounter more folk again, especially on the last approached to Skelwith Bridge. Another route warning is in order for around that passing point: don’t expect the Way to emerge onto the road like it does on the map because I seem to recall that an off road alternative is now signed instead. That threw me while going from Great Langdale to Ambleside in February but my awareness of the deviation allowed me to proceed as I had planned.

After a short rest in a stone bus shelter, I carry on up the steep hill towards Loughrigg Tarn. The tarn wasn’t my destination so I veered right at the junction and picked up a right of way leading off to the left and uphill through more National Trust property. Passing a scout encampment, the gradient eased as I carried on traversing the slopes of Loughrigg Fell. Following one last blast of ascent and views over Windermere, it was downhill again. At this point, I was very reminded of a circular walk from Ambleside that took me up and over Loughrigg Fell while passing Grasmere and Rydal Water. My plan was to go to Wales that day but a cancelled train was the cause of sending me north instead. It is too easy to feel fed up when this happened but views towards the Pass of Dunmail Raise and more allowed those feelings to be displaced and satisfaction to be derived from the day’s outing.

There were no such negative thoughts as I dropped down to cross the road into a very pleasant tree-shaded Rothay Park. A pause for a short while was in order before I continued to catch my bus to Windermere’s train station. If you were lazing in Rothay Park, you may have been oblivious to this but I spied a bank of cloud approaching from the south as I yomped over Loughrigg Fell; skies had been becoming more milky as the day wore on in any case. By the time that I was in Windermere, the cloud bank was making its presence felt and helped me to feel that I wasn’t leaving for home prematurely. As it happened, I made way home from Macclesfield’s train station in dampness, a definite contrast to the weather that I had encountered on my wanderings that made me feel that going north was the right thing to be doing. Saying that, the damp ending placed no dampener on my recollection of the day.

Travel Details:

Return train journey from Macclesfield to Windermere. Bus service 505 from Windermere to Coniston and service 599 from Ambleside to Windermere.

About this time last year, I was feeling a tad sore after a weekend in Scotland where I was surprised by some of the best weather that I had seen there in a while. It was as if I was taken by surprise and reluctantly left because I was of the opinion, rightly or wrongly, that a certain lack of planning meant that I may not have made the most of it. Looking back on it now, it may not have been as wasted an opportunity as I thought it to be at the time. After all, that Sunday sojourn on Kerrera sharpened my appreciation of island scenery and perhaps inspired the Hebridean island hopping session that occupied me for a week later on in the year.

This year, with various things that have been going on in my life together with a stretch of lacklustre weather, I would have been forgiven for being surprised by the weather yet again, just like last year in fact. Now that I think of it, the weather has behaved similarly on both times. The run up to the same weekend last year would have been no preparation for what eventually arrived either. However, there is an important distinction between the two years: the locations blessed by good weather. Last year, Scotland got it better and had a generally good May with the TGO Challenge seeing more dry sunny days than usual. England did better this time around but it all depended on where you were and when you were there; it turned wet in Cheshire on Monday.

Overall, Cheshire did well with a steadily improving Saturday that coaxed me out on the bike in the evening time after an afternoon shopping expediton. Sunday was even better and I spent my afternoon and evening on a stroll from Leek back home by way of Tittesworth Reservoir and Danebridge. On Monday, I popped up to Cumbria to hike the Cumbria Way from Coniston to Skelwith Bridge before skirting Loughrigg Fell on the way to Ambleside. That was the cause of taking me through a honeypot or two (Tarn Hows comes to mind as a particular fleshpot) but the quieter parts more than made up for this.

One plan did fall by the wayside and that was the idea of following the Derwent Valley Heritage Way north from Baslow until either Grindleford, Hathersage or Bamford; the end point was to depend on progress and the time of the next train home from either of these stations. The plot certainly was fluid but a late bus caused its abandonment on Sunday so it goes onto the ideas shelf for another time. Another route option is to go around by Baslow Edge, Curbar Edge and Froggat Edge, proper hill wandering if you will and a variation of the original theme, but that also still awaits its opportunity and goes beside the DVHW on that proverbial shelf.

All in all, I cannot declare 2009’s Spring Bank Holiday weekend wasted and, anyway, that’s not the way that I feel about it at all. Any period of time that allowed chances for walks and cycles can only have been used well and, as if that were not enough, it has sown the seeds for future excursions too so it has been more than fruitful. Having more good weather than was expected can be a test too because you need to pick where you want to go when the temptation is to go out and gorge yourself; having only so much time has its uses. Trip reports for the walks themselves should follow but there’s the prospect of good weather next weekend so that may cause the postponement of their appearance. Of course, that depends on how things come together and only time will tell on that score.

May this year has brought us a right mix of weather. Saying that, it seems that its bank holiday weekends didn’t fare two badly and the start of the month saw me head to the Appleby-in-Westmorland for a spot of wandering about the Upper Eden Valley in pleasant weather. The countryside, a mixture of the pastoral and the rough stuff, was as Eden-like as the weather. The route followed took in a number of public footpaths and I even got to fitting in a snippet of the Pennine Way too, all the while keeping the amount of road walking to a minimum.

The idea of reaching High Cup Nick was in the back of my mind but, due to delays to my journey, that’s where it has had to stay for now. If a delay to my departure weren’t enough, a malfunctioning train really finished off the prospect of it happening on my first visit to the area. It’s probably just as well not to overdo things on a first outing so I am far from bitter and, given the day that I enjoyed, being like that only would be a display of ungratefulness. The Upper Eden Valley is an area through which I had passed without stopping on various Anglo-Scottish journeys so a visit was long overdue.

When I got to Appleby, blue skies were very much in evidence but wads of cloud  were obstruct the sun from time to time too, a mere triviality. The exit from urban confines was swift and getting over the A66 was no trouble either; I simply walked straight across the dual carriageway, not at all as foreboding as it sounds. Public rights of way conveyed me without a bout of confusion all of the way to Flakebridge with only a short spell on tarmac. Field crossing was followed by woodland walking through Flakebridge Wood before more fields were traversed without too much perturbation of the livestock, sheep in places with cattle in others and a mixture elsewhere, or they of me. There were empty fields too but the ground, with the exception of the boggy stuff around Keisley Beck, remained sound as far as Keisley.

Passing Keisley, not at all a big spot and a hamlet really, I kept on with the public footpath shuffle until I reached the Pennine Way. It was at this point that I to start thinking about fitting plans to fit the available time. It was enough to get me as far as Peeping Hill and allow for a bit of poking around on the access land. The reason for my probing was to see if there was quick way down to the floor of High Cup Gill but I was going the wrong way about it so I returned to the Pennine Way in the interests of time. Looking at a map while spewing out these words, I can see better possibilities but they must awaited a future visit, perhaps with a newer map that actually shows the extent of the access land hereabouts.

Unobstructed sunshine was to accompany me as I returned to Appleby. While I did largely reprise my outbound route, I stayed on the Pennine Way to reach the road passing through Dufton. With an eye on the time, I skirted Dufton but followed part of the road for Appleby before making use of a public footpath returning me to Flakebridge. It had by now become a wonderful evening for photographic exploits so I just had to stop and make use of the opportunities, though without overstaying my welcome. Beyond Flakebridge, I heard the sort of hubbub for which I often don’t care so much but it was reassuring this time around: road traffic noise. It was coming from the A66 and told me that I was making good time. As it happened, I was at my train station with maybe fifteen minutes to spare, never a bad thing, but my progress had been steady rather than rushed, a travesty given the eveniong that was. The visual delights weren’t done with my train taking me past plenty of gloriously lit hill country before it reached Leeds. Two changes of train later and an untroubled journey home was completed, an appropriate end to a good day out in the countyside.

Travel details

Return train trip from Macclesfield to Appleby-in-Westmorland (the station gets called just Appleby for some reason) with changes in Manchester and Leeds.

That trip report that was promised last week has been delayed by my main home PC developing the computing equivalent of engine trouble. The remedy is the computing equivalent of the putting in a new engine into a car and that’s as far as I am planning to go with the technical description on here. Suffice it to say that progress hasn’t been as smooth as I might have liked and I am getting to wonder if I somehow have managed to acquire an inverse Midas touch. An older machine has been pressed into service as an alternative and I have been grabbing bits and pieces like most of my digital photos, a process that involved mucking around with computer hardware using a screw driver. Now that I have decamped to some sort of stability, my mind can turn to crafting blog posts accompanied with photos and other more pleasant stuff. After all, there’s a bank holiday weekend ahead of us and who knows what it might offer. From the various fiorecasts, it’s unlikely to be as fantastic as it was in Scotland around the same time last year so it’ll be a matter of taking whatever chances are available. Last weekend was no stunner either and it allowed me to sort out a few things while popping for a local stroll round by Prestbury and Tytherington and continue the running in of my Meindls.