Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

It has been a very grey week in weather terms around where I live and I could do with seeing a spot of sun and blue skies sooner rather than later. Given the times in which we live, the grey onslaught might be seen as a case of pathetic fallacy but we could all do with something to go and cheer us up. I find that I can only take so much grey weather before needing to head off where there is some sun and, though the sun has been trying to break through today, I feel the need for something more substantive. Saying that, the recent mildness, the return of birdsong and the general feeling of spring in the air has been welcome. That’s not to say that the recent cold spell didn’t have its bright spots but the saying that a change is as good as a rest is what comes to mind.

As it has happened, my two most recent forays into hill country were under largely grey skies. The Cumbrian outing may have had its sunny interludes in the cold but the mildness of the Irish escapade came with no sun at all and it took a while for the day to brighten up with my Pentax’s metering showing how dark it thought everything was. Speaking of photography, the lack of sun does make it tricky to capture something in the way in which I would like to share with you. The result is that the occasional posting has appeared on here without any photos.

Part of the reasoning for that dates from over a decade ago when I was building the first incarnation of my online photo gallery. Then, all that any search for photos on the web yielded for me were grey day pictures that I didn’t find appealing. The result was that I vowed that sunlit scenes were to be what went on there and I have to say that, apart from the occasional departure, the same thinking rules the roost here too and that’s the way that I’d like to keep things.

That is not to say that concentrating on details found underfoot or ensconced in places where flat grey skies can be excluded will not yield anything. For instance, Torc Waterfall near Killarney in Ireland produced the goods on an otherwise damp and dreich day. The waterfall trick has worked elsewhere for me too with one cataract allowing me to illustrate a trip report for a walk from Ardlui to Butterbridge utterly devoid of sun last November. No doubt, other details that work well in such diffused light would suffice too.

Thoughts of monochrome photography have sneaked into my mind too. A day that mightn’t be one for capturing colour vistas might yield good black and white vistas. To me, the trick is to ensure that there is enough tonality to carry off the exploit and not every dull day offers that so the monochrome route is not a panacea for rescuing otherwise gloomy efforts. In fact, I recommend a look at Craig McMaster’s Elements if you want to how much better landscapes look in black and white when there is good light available. Taking colour digital images and converting them to mono like the examples that I have added below (no perfection or greatness is being claimed here) is more involved than merely clicking on the right buttons. Ideally, the photo should have been previsualised or planned as a black and white one rather than converting a few and seeing what happens. Of course, there’s no harm having a go at that in a spare moment to see what works and what doesn’t. That can only help develop your monochrome eye anyway and my impression is that there will be more misses than hits before any refinement starts to come on stream.

2009 seems to have gotten a start with long grey spells and plenty of ice and snow thrown in for good measure. That’s not to say that it hasn’t had its sunny interludes but the precedent of 2004 lingers in my memory. That year is one that I’ll always remember as being one where sunny spells were a rarity and its summer and autumn didn’t help its case, even if the deluges of 2007 and 2008 are perhaps more memorable for some though that’s not how I’ll remember those (2007 was decent up until the middle of June if I recall correctly). Let’s hope that 2009 brightens up and there’s plenty of time for it to do the deed yet. With all the doom and gloom that surrounds us, it looks like we could do with it.

Midsummer in 2008 might have been a time when I felt that the year had peaked and the encroachment of unsettled weather may have had something to do with that view. Certainly, the year will not be remembered for having a sunny summer and many were disappointed, even if it did have its better interludes. Personally, I reckon that it’s best to try and enjoy what is visited upon us at any time of year and seem to have come to the conclusion that the traditional summer holiday season is overrated. There may be more hours of daylight but, if the days get too hot, it may be worth sticking to the cooler parts of the day and that reduces the amount of time available for wandering through the countryside anyway, perhaps restricting the time available until it is not that much different from spring or autumn anyway.

Even with the feeling that the second half of a year feels like an anticlimax after the first, I continued to get out into attractive countryside. I found hot sunny weather in July, was extremely lucky with my visits to Scotland in August, had an easier September and October before taking advantage of numerous wonderful opportunities in November and December. There was much to behold so here are a few recollections of it all.

July

In walking terms, July was another fallow month with a sun scorched saunter along the Offa’s Dyke Path near Welshpool at the end of the month being the main trip of note. Otherwise, time limited by other activities ensure that most of my major outdoors activity was to be cycling rather than walking. The month’s mixture of weather contributed too but I was feeling that the best of the year had passed by this time anyway and began to wonder if the timing of the school holidays was more than a little nonsensical. I also got to mulling over island wandering as a possibility for my now habitual longer Scottish walking break. My few hours on Kerrera in May may have had something to do with this inspiration coming upon me and I felt the need for a longer break anyhow.

August

The main even in August was that island hopping trip to Skye and the Western Isles. Though anyone surveying the weather and the weather forecast on the eve of the trip might have questioned my sanity for even considering what I was about to undertake. In the event, I struck the jackpot: while other parts of the U.K. and Ireland were getting a soaking, I managed to find wonderful sunshine and avoid those downpours. That was thanks to the belt of rain getting stuck across the north of England and the south of Scotland. Harris was to prove the highlight of the week without Skye failing to satisfy or the peace of the Uists being forgettable. However, it does need to be said that South Uist felt a little like an anti-climax after Harris so it might be best to journey in the northbound direction on any future visit. A social visit to Edinburgh followed but I still got in a few hours among the Pentland Hills, an area that I surprisingly ignored when I lived up there in that city.

September & October

September and October proved to be pivotal months for a lot of reasons, the economic situation in the wider world being one of them. For me, it was a period lacking in longer walking excursions but shortening days meant that walks at lunchtimes started to take over from evening cycles. Another trip to Ireland in September allowed me to spend a few sunny hours around Gougane Barra. Even though I felt unable to add a fuller narrative for that trip, the photos found their way into the photo gallery very quickly. Alongside this, the realities of writing a longer trip away were made plain to me as producing reports for my Hebridean trip began to take eat up their share of time. It wasn’t just the writing that slowed progress since choosing and processing the photos to be included as part of the descriptions nearly were more rate limiting than the actual writing itself. That experience had been happening throughout the year but it really came to a head with the larger block of writing. Staying with the subject of lessons learned, I started to cast more of a critical eye on the focus of the blog and came to the conclusion that much of the musings on public transport really belonged elsewhere. In time, another blog was spawned for that but travel matters relevant to exploring wonderful countryside will continue to make their appearance here. In time, it may happen that old posts falling outside of this might get moved elsewhere as part of continued content reshaping but I’ll leave things as they are for now.

November

November saw me re-emerge into areas well populated by hills again. The first of two trips to Cumbria saw me embark on an out and back trek from Windermere’s train station to Yoke. I had gone north with a few ideas in mind and this proved to be just as well when public transport and the available daylight constrained my ambitions a little. Neither did anything to spoil my enjoyment of the day. A miscalculation on the following weekend had me walking from Ardlui to Butterbridge a day too early for good weather to do its magic on the landscape. in some respects, the hike echoed my February outing to the area in that showers got going to make things feel unpleasant as I dropped down towards the end of my walk. I may not have seen the countryside in its best light but plans for potential excursions came to mind and they may compensate for this at some suitable juncture in the future. Dullness of a drier variety was set to dominate my walk from Ambleside to the top of Red Screes and back the next weekend. Some sunshine managed to escape from its cloudy prison towards the end of the walk but the intense cold remains in mind, particularly since the turning on of Ambleside’s Christmas lights delayed my journey home.

December

December may be considered by meteorologists to be the start of winter but my walking was not about to go into hibernation, especially with the possibility of sampling some snow. So, the first Saturday of the month saw me return to the Howgill Fells after the briefest of visits a few years earlier. The snow that I met got me wondering about winter skills and such like but the experience was one not to be missed. The day after had me out exploring Macclesfield’s hills with an out and back hike from my own doorstep. I might have been trampling familiar ground but there were some new sides to be seen too. A trip to Ireland for Christmas and New didn’t stop my walking either, even if road walking took up the most of what I was doing. Nevertheless, I got to get off road to explore around Springfield Castle near Broadford in County Limerick and even got to sample a little piece of the Dingle peninsula around Camp and Castlegregory in Kerry. Sunshine enlivened both walks but that part of Kerry was frequented by a biting wind while we were there; nevertheless, it didn’t stop me wandering a little way along a track (used by a tractor to get winter feeding to livestock by appearance of things) through the dunes at Maherabeg (Machaire Beag in Irish) in the late evening sunshine, at least shadowing the Dingle Way if not actually following it. That brought a year packed full of walking trips and opportunities to a delightful close. 2009 awaits.

While 2009 has yet to see its first proper hill outing of the year for me, I have to say that anyone who doesn’t make the most of the first half of any year is missing out on something special. It is nice to think that everything is on the up and your next outing could be more wonderful than the last. You are less likely to be overrun by hoards too and there’s much to admire from the skeletal forms of the trees to the way that fine landscape is enlivened by the gentler light. I can see some being put out by such things as the shortness of the days or the lingering feel of winter but I see wonder in these too and it allows one to be ready for the annual crescendo that is April, May and even June. After that, i feel that the year passes its peak and regard the traditional summer holiday months of July and August as being ill-timed but that means that we are more likely to have things to ourselves, never a bad thing. Here’s how the first half of 2008 fared.

January

Casting my mind back to January, I remember expressing an inclination to stay home when the weather wasn’t so inviting. What had been a tactical device for ensuring that necessary life chores got done had developed a less than desirable side effect: being too choosy about when to go walking among those wonderful hills. A sunny Sunday at the start of the month drew me out on a cycle between Macclesfield and Leek with a diversion round by the Roaches on the way back. It was a good start to the year and I followed it up by strengthening my resolve in order to head to Leek for a circular walk through Staffordshire’s muddy moorlands (encountering clay was rather apt given the county’s fame for pottery production) that took me over Hen Cloud. The need for inner strength was prompted by greyness of skies earlier in the day but that soon evaporated to uncloak blue skies and unleash the sun to do its magic, a sort of reward for my endeavours.

February

That "get out there regardless of everything but personal safety and other much more important things" mentality was to serve me well in February. When a dusting of snow presented itself, I was off to Northumberland to explore more of the hills near Wooler. There was an ample coating of powder dry snow about and that both enlivened the views and brought out a little of the inner child in mind as I bobbed downhill on my return to Wooler. The middle of the month saw that replaced by a settle spell of glorious if nippy weather that allowed me to narrow the gap between Haworth and Gargrave in my Pennine Way hiking project. In line with the "bag-of-nails" approach that I have been adapting, a southbound walk from Gargrave to Lothersdale came first with a northbound hike from Haworth to Ickornshaw following it. The narrow gap between Ickornshaw and Lothersdale remains a possible irritation but it’s also another excuse to revisit those parts, even if public footpath signposting isn’t what it might be. The end of the month saw me undertake my visit outing of the year in Scotland with a wander through the countryside by Tarbet and Arrochar. I needed my new found resolve as the showers started to gang up on me with the aging of the day; it was certainly good weather for any frogs that I saw.

March

In contrast to February, March was a much quieter month when it came to exploring the outdoors. A heavy flu was partly to blame for that but I felt a need to clear out some physical and mental clutter too, an activity that kept me busy over the early and white Easter. The latter fact should have drawn me out because a good walk is often good for garbage clearance but I ended up looking out at the Maxonian (that’s to Macclesfield what Mancunian is to Manchester) hills instead.

April

April’s two excursions mean that I was among hills instead of looking at them from afar. The first of these saw me traipse along part of the Offa’s Dyke Path near Knighton on a day that had me frequenting both Powys in Wales and Shropshire in England. I even dropped in on Church Stretton on the way home for a short sortie that preceded a heavy shower. Another weekend trip to Scotland followed with my exploring around the villages of Glencoe and Kinlochleven. The weather couldn’t have been better and snow still lay on the mountain tops though I remained at lower levels. On the way home, I began to feel that I had seen enough of the pervading browns of the hills for one sitting.

May

May made another good month for wandering through open hill country and its being topped and tailed by bank holidays surely helped. The first of these saw me exploring Teesdale on a grey if dry day with sun struggling to make any headway through the cloud cover. Even so, I got taken along another part of the Pennine Way and it made for a good day out. The next day was a damp affair so my next trip took advantage of the fact that normal weekday train services run on a bank holiday to get to Bethesda in North Wales for what turned out to be a linear hike to Bangor by way of the foothills of the Carneddau and the North Wales Path. Cloud broke to release the sun even if sea fog somewhat curtailed the sunshine later on in my walk. Another Welsh outing followed with my planned walk near Dolwyddelan being displaced by an out and back hike from Dolgarrog to Llyn Eigiau due to transport misinformation. It didn’t matter because a good day of walking followed anyway. Scotland surprised me with perfect weather for the second bank holiday weekend of the month, so much so that I was barely ready to take full advantage of what was offer and I left for home with a certain amount of regret. That’s not to say that a good tramp from Inverarnan to Dalmally or a few hours spent on Kerrera wasted the time that I had but I would have rathered more extensive planning than was done. If I had known what was ahead of me, I might have booked some time off from work and made a longer weekend of it. Having Monday would have avoided the bank holiday traffic and allowed for some very enjoyable walking too. Maybe the weather forecasters were so taken up by what was coming to England that they forgot Scotland…

June

June started well with a walk along the Cumbria Way through Langstrath on my way from Borrowdale into Great Langdale. Though I had glimpsed the Langdale Pikes from afar, this was to be my first visit to Great Langdale and, though cloud got to obscure the sun as the day wore on, a return to these wondrous parts remains in order. A primarily social visit to Ireland followed with my only snatching short strolls on a visit to Killarney on a damp day. Nevertheless, the sight of Torc waterfall retained its appeal and I was sorely tempted by the idea of going further along the Kerry Way.

The name "Allt Coire Chaorach" probably doesn’t mean that much to most people. When I saw mention of it in a BBC news item concerning the recent approval of a hydroelectric scheme, I just had to investigate. That search for further information led me to the Scottish Government’s website where the fuller details are for all to see.

It was the inclusion of the word "Chaorach" that got up my curiosity because there was a faint possibility that I may have passed it on my travels through Scottish hills. In fact, it was my passing through Gleann nan Caorann whilst on a trek from Inverarnan to Dalmally at the end of May that proved to be the trigger. However, in Gaelic, caorann is the word for a rowan tree while caora is the word for sheep. So my wandering took me by glens and burns named after the rowan rather than sheep or ewes like how it appears for Allt Coire Chaorach. It’s amazing how appearances can deceive when it comes to languages of which you don’t have a detailed knowledge.

However, Allt Coire Chaorach isn’t that far from Inverarnan since it starts out on the eastern slopes of Ben More and Stob Binnein before plunging to the floor of Glen Dochart to join the river that gives that glen its name; that river itself goes on to feed Loch Tay, from which emanates the river of the same name that reaches the sea near Dundee. Apparently, this is also a site of special scientific interest and the Scottish Government seems to be continuing on its course of not entirely respecting SSSI’s if the approval of the hydroelectric scheme is any useful indicator. It’s also located within the bounds of the Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park so the trend seems a little too consistent. Let’s hope that the construction works are as sympathetic as they can be.

Incursion of modernity into our beloved hill country often attracts furious disapproval; just look what surrounds the subjects of wind farms and electricity supply lines. Anything that is already done doesn’t trouble me so much since removing it might cause even more disruption than leaving things as they are. However, any proposed changes do rouse my misgivings and I hope that the powers that be do leave us with sufficient wild country to explore and so escape the pressures and demands of modern life. Getting corralled into busy honeypots would be no fun; while National Parks have their own multitude of quieter corners, making one’s way through the hordes to get to them isn’t as nice as the unimpeded access to them in lesser frequented parts.

Saying all of the above, the new hydroelectric scheme may not be that intrusive in the visual sense. From the side of the A85, it should be hidden behind forestry but it will take some time to blend in with its surroundings so that it doesn’t look so obvious from the heady heights of the likes of Ben More and Stob Binnein. For those who might like a wilder feel, now might be a good time to explore these and other summits before any changes take place. The rest of us might be comforted by the thoughts as to how quickly nature can reclaim the land from our worst attentions. Just visit the North Pennines, once a bastion of lead mining, and other parts where such activities were once prevalent and now long gone. Visiting the quarry-scarred hillsides of Gwynedd might not be the best idea when seeking solace from our disregard for the landscape with which we have been gifted is what’s in order.

Over the weekend, I was lured north to Scotland by thoughts of seeing its magnificent countryside lying resplendent in bright sunshine, however fleeting that might have been. However, that halcyon dream was merely just that because the predict continual improvement in the weather on Saturday proved to be more gradual than had been predicted by the forecasters, so much so that it could have been called an illusion. That mountains can make their own weather may not have helped my cause either.

The weather that I did encounter was more reminiscent of that which I got while out walking around Arrochar and Tarbet in February or March. Then, I got heavy showers that got more progressively slow moving and frequent as the day wore on until they grew into the sort of irritant that made me glad that I was leaving when I did. On that day though, there was some good sunshine at times to make up for all the wetness but my last excursion was bereft of any such succour, even if holes in cloud did allow glimpses of blue sky and the sun did make feeble attempts to get through. It wasn’t to be a day for photography, particularly since making pictures of wide vistas was utterly out of the question.

When I got off a coach at Ardlui, there were grey skies but it was dry after a passing shower. I then made my way down a wet A82 to Garristuck cottage, a little south of Ardlui train station. After a short spell along a track that passed two houses, I was into a field and making my way up the hillside. The path that I was following may have been faint but that was sufficient to steady any navigational waywardness. The plan was to reach a coll between Stob an Fhithich and Stob nan Connich Bhacain and then drop down to reach a path that was to take me over paths and dams to a 4×4 track that would land me on the A83 near Butterbridge, between Cairndow and Rest and Be Thankful. However, the sight of the crags of Stob an Fhithich resulted in a change of direction and I went round to the other side of that hill to traverse gentler slopes. The gradient may have been manageable but gentleness wouldn’t be a quality that I would ascribe to the terrain that I was crossing. It was waterlogged and grassy with occasional crags, bracken and scrub encountered before I dropped into Srath Dubh-uisage, looking very much part of the catchment area for Loch Sloy. For a while, this was to be the type of walking that could be a more effective workout of the leg muscles than any gym and in much more interesting surroundings.

Picking up that informal path (a wonderful description that I found in Walking World Ireland and it was used to describe something similar), needed a bit of searching to locate it, even with the sights of dam railings and such like; it was merely a line of trampled grass that soon enough brought me onto a good track. Up to this point, I only had one passing shower during the hike but things were to intensify on the weather front while the walking actually got easier. It was just as well that I was by now well on the way to Butterbridge. Even with the greyness, the murk, the heavy rain and strong winds, the colours of the countryside showed themselves. All the while, my waterproofs and my boots very usefully kept out the dampness while I proved that I too could cope with the conditions as well as my gear did.

I continued my way down Glen Kinglass regardless and started to encounter the only fellow walkers that I’d met all day. Any wonderment as to where they might be headed was partially answered by a sign for a track to Ben Vane that I was to see later on. Because of the conditions, I could only imagine how my surroundings might look their best as weak sunshine attempted to brighten things up while I made out the road up to Rest and Be Thankful. The A83 came soon enough and I awaited my coach back to civilisation while among high hills that need to be surveyed on a more suitable day. I reckon that I was out among them a day too early and, annoying though that might be, it’ll take another visit to see them at their very best and I might even cross that coll between Stob an Fhithich and Stob nan Connich Bhacain too. I may not have left with wonderful photos but I have something equally valuable: more ideas for future outings. Those hills won’t go away anytime soon so I hope to be able to stage a return at some suitable juncture.