Archive for the 'Ireland' Category

They don’t have to be that high

Thursday, January 28th, 2010

Last weekend's greyness did nothing to coax me out of doors and other things took up whatever spare time was available. With a promising forecast for the coming one, I am minded to make use of what goodness comes the way though it will mean preparation for colder temperatures and mindfulness of the threat of snow showers too. The shadow of winter hasn't left us just yet but the thought of crossing frozen moorland does sound tempting. It's too soon to say where the first full hillwalking trip of 2010 will take me but I hope to make a get away soon, even if only for a day.

On of the things that I got to doing last weekend was to see what more sympathetic processing would do for older photos brought away after outings among the hills of Kerry over in Ireland. Apart from the now customary thoughts about returning to see more or to do better photographic justice to the place, I got to being amazed by how proud of their surroundings and shapely even low sized hills can appear. Taking a look in the photo below might show you what I mean because the more obvious summits barely break above 300 or 400 metres above sea level.

That observation propels my brain to another point: that steeper flanked humps can deceive. Well, they certainly can tire as I discovered along a stretch of the West Highland Way between Balmaha and Rowardennan. None of the humps rose much above 100 metres in height but the constant up and down action wasn't kind either. Hillocks don't just possess the party trick of feeling higher than they are but they can look it too. That observation takes me to Loch Seaforth (Loch Shìphoirt) on Harris where Seaforth Island (Eileann Shìphoirt) has a high point not exceeding 200 metres in height but it doesn't rise out of the water by half when seen from Ardvourlie (Aird a' Mhulaidh). I suppose that everything looks higher when seen from next to sea level and you have to wonder how Ben More on Mull presents itself to someone walking in from the coast to reach its summit too.

Those smaller isolated hills might have their uses though, especially when they offer vistas featuring summits. It is for that reason that Diamond Hill near Letterfrack in Connemara has taken my fancy after seeing it featured in a Walking World Ireland route. If I ever manage to make to that part of County Galway, I'd have in mind for that first ever visit. Ben Tianavaig on the Isle of Skye fulfilled a similar role with views of the Red Hills, the Cuillin, Raasay and the Trotternish all on offer in a 360º panorama on an evening that mixed bright sunshine with spells of rain. Orrest Head in Cumbria is another such delectable picking and illustrates that being deceived into expending energy to reach a lesser top is not foolishness at all. There are enough of the same kind that I risk making a big long list when only a few examples will do. The steep sides to any of these is a hint that any panoramas need work but who can complain with the rewards on offer?

Glanmore Lake, Lauragh, Co. Kerry, Éire

2009: a year of reconnaissance and rediscovery

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

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.

A longer winter break

Wednesday, January 6th, 2010

We have had the cold winter mixture of snow and ice for so long now that it almost is no longer newsworthy. It was there before I set off on a winter airborne crossing of the Irish Sea and remained to welcome me back on my return. That's not to say that it isn't causing disruption with travel being a casualty from time to time. It also explains why I was out on Christmas Day and the day after (Boxing Day to some, St. Stephen's Day to others) breaking ice to clear tracks so that those with older bones than mine didn't go breaking them. There was a useful thaw thereafter that allowed things to dry up before the next round of frosts and I took my chance on an afternoon stroll around by Springfield Castle in the winter sun. Traffic thankfully was light on the roads that conveyed me much of the way and most of the ice had gone. In fact, I found more of that on the back avenue of Springfield Castle than anywhere else, including the front avenue. The latter allowed me to escape from a sizeable bunch who were engaged in pucking sliotars (hitting hurling balls with hurling sticks to the uninitiated) along the road from Broadford to Dromcollogher. Apart from that collective, places were otherwise quiet with only the occasional soul encountered along the way. It was a useful escape from worrying about the effects of slips on those who really could do without a knock.

The only other trot of note was an afternoon jaunt around by Kilmeedy on an increasingly foggy New Year's Day. Though I gained some height, the lack of visibility meant that wide ranging views were out of the question so I contented myself to decent progress along largely ice-free and dry roads with little or no traffic on them. It was but an unremarkable few hours out in the cold air apart from the sight of a pair of swans in the River Deel near Belville. Even so, it was a good way to let the mind loose to lose any stresses and strains that had been collecting.

Apart from those bursts of road walking, the countryside journeying was largely virtual with some books capturing my attention. The first of these was found around my parents' house and caught my eye. Tales of canal boating do not normally attract my interest but Gerald Potterton's In the Wake of Giants kept me occupied for a few hours with its mix of modern day anecdotes and historical interjections. Ostensibly, it is a tale of someone fulfilling an interest in journeying along the Grand Canal and the River Barrow with its numerous canal cuttings for the avoidance of weirs. Naturally, this took me around by locales that wouldn't have crept too high up my list of places to visit and told me a little about them too, adding to my knowledge of the "Old Country". The tale may have stuttered to life like a marinised old Ford diesel engine that is used a power unit for a canal boat but the narrative soon got going in its own inimitable manner and went to show that there can be more to tillage farmers than meets the eye.

The second occupier of any free moments was a volume that I picked up a while back and lay on my reading list before I got around to it. Joseph Murphy's At the Edge does fit in rather better on a blog full of walking trip reports than a tome on canal boating and it has its own soul too. The backbone of the thing is a walk along the coasts of Ireland and Scotland from Kerry to Lewis made by someone who feels that he has lost a little something of his Irish heritage. Along the way, he gets to pondering Gaelic culture and the differences between Ireland become apparent with the emptiness of Scotland contrasting with an Ireland peopled with obliging folk; interlopers who fail to engage with their Scottish surroundings stick out like sore thumbs later on in the narrative. It may be that I have developed a beady eye with all my online scribblings but there were times when typographical errors intruded on any sense of reverie (I know that I'm only human so please let me know privately about any failings of my own making). Clearly, a spot of improvement on the proof reading side is needed on the part of the publishers and the author. Even with intrusions, the explorations of exile and connectedness drew me in as the journey continued; I suppose that my being an Irishman living and working in England had something to do with this though my affinity for the places visited along the way may have helped too.

Just as there are Irishmen in England, there are Englishmen in Ireland and Tim Robinson has been one of the latter since 1972. On the return trip to Cheshire, I felt the need of a book and his Stones of Aran: Pilgrimage became my accompaniment as I left the branch of Easons on Dublin's O' Connell Street. It's an intense piece of writing that needs to be savoured away from the vacant prattlings of drunken folk on trains. Quite how he can make so much of coastal explorations with only the occasional diversion inland is surprising. Until a few years ago, it was out of print but Faber & Faber brought out a new edition with a forward by Robert Macfarlane. There is a companion volume called Stones of Aran: Labyrinth that also was out of print until the New York Review of Books addressed that situation last year. More recently, he wrote a counterpart pair on Connemara with titles such as Connemara: Listening to the Wind and Connemara: The Last Pool of Darkness, both published by Penguin Ireland. The latter of these is in my possession and remains unfinished but it very typically was on the wrong side of the Irish Sea when it would have been continued. Of course, that's a human failing with my not thinking that I'd not be reading that much while ensconced in West Limerick. It's also an unusual one for me but carriage of paper items is sure to add weight that can prove expensive if indiscipline is allowed to reign. In that light, the extra purchase can be seen as a comparative bargain.

With all this reading about a country to which I haven't done justice in walking terms, you might think that 2010 is set to be a year when Ireland might see more of me. That, however, is not mine to see. The start of any year usually is like beginning with a blank slate but 2010 seems to be more wide open than other years. While grand designs are not my style, I am more inclined to avoid them this year than I otherwise might do. It is going to be a case of meeting the future one day at a time and seeing where things take me from here.

A promise made good

Friday, December 18th, 2009

In recent days, Mapyx has brought out OSNI 1:50000 Discoverer mapping data for Quo with 1:25000 due to follow. Having found some free time, I got a quick chance to metaphorically kick some tyres. As with OSi maps, you cannot have OS maps and OSNI maps open at once but there is no bar to shuttling over and back across the Irish border in the digital world. Tiles for either provider are £1.99 each with the entire OSNI set going for a not unreasonable £39.99.

However, there are no grid lines on the NI maps that I have in my sample. That surprised me and makes rough and ready estimations of distance a non-starter; you need to use Quo's route planning tools to get a handle on distances and to determine grid references. However, you'll be glad to know that the OSNI's paper maps do not have the same feature as my copy of Sheet 29 (covering the Mourne Mountains and published in 2008) is well crossed with those ever useful lines and feeling very like an equivalent OSi specimen, albeit with townlands superimposed on the back of the sheet. The digital counterpart to the same looks bleached in comparison but it may have been decided that all those greens and browns obscured the contour lines anyway. In contrast, the OSi have gone for faithful reproduction instead but there's merit in both approaches.

Because Quo's overview map for Britain and Ireland is only available with the OS coordinates system, you could find OSi and OSNI tiles lying on a white background. Adding the OSi's 1:600000 overview map of the island of Ireland to your collection for £4.99 does help to bring together an incomplete tile collection and get around it. Also available for £4.99 is a copy of the OSNI gazetteer that allows to search for places on NI like you'd do for mainland Britain with the OS Landranger gazetteer database.

All this perusal of Northern Ireland maps sits uneasily with the lack of attention that I have given the province. The Mourne Mountains certainly look promising and there are the Glens of Antrim too along with the Sperrin Mountains; lack of choice clearly isn't a problem then. Now, when might there be a visit?

OSi Maps now on Quo

Thursday, November 26th, 2009

Last week, Mapyx finally made good their promise to bring out Ordnance Survey Ireland 1:50000 Discovery mapping data for Quo. Pricing is £1.99 per tile, more comparable with £1.95 per tile for OS Explorer maps than 99p per tile for OS Landranger. Even with the (little) extra outlay, that's not so bad and I purchased tiles for the area covering the Dublin and Wicklow Mountains for less than £20, hardly a king's ransom. OSNI maps are also promised but we'll just have to be patient and see when they come on the scene.

So far, my examination of those purchased OSi maps has been a brief one with route planning and other such operations left for later. Reassuringly, downloading and installation of the actual tiles was the same as for any other Quo map and the displayed tiles were as clear (and as recognisable to the likes of me) as those you'd find on Trail Master DVD's or in Geolives. However, Quo needs to shut down any OS maps that you have open in order to open up their OSi equivalents because of differences in coordinate systems; that can be a little inconvenient if you start to wander between the British mainland and Éire quite a lot. That's the only difference that I have seen up to now and I'd be surprised if I noticed anything of note while in the process of planning a route. If I do, my observations may find their way on here in due course. After all, my one sortie to Wicklow's does deserve to followed by another.

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