Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

With the deluges that have fallen over Wales, Cumbria, the North Pennines and Scotland, today wouldn't have made for a pleasurable day's walking. Last weekend though, things were very different and I took myself to Wales for a hike from Roman Bridge to Pen y Pass. The ground was waterlogged in many places then so it leaves nothing to the imagination to realise how easy it would be for rivers to rise with heavy rain falling on the hills like it has been doing today. Thoughts of visiting castles at Beaumaris and Caernarfon may be entering my head but I reckon that I'll leave things settle a little before any other Welsh outing after what came the way. Macclesfield may not have fared to badly but you only have to hear of railway line closures to realise how hard a time other places are having.

With regard to last weekend's hike, my usual practice of saying more in a little while applies here too but one happenstance really stands out in my memory so I'll recall it here. Whether it was due to being tired at the end of the walk or my being distracted by the need to catch a bus, I managed to stuff my headtorch into my trousers pocket only to let it fall from my brain that I'd done so; daylight was failing while I took a little longer than I'd intended so the extra lighting was a big help. The item itself is a Petzl LED affair but it did nothing to make its presence known to me when I went looking for it again until it finally dawned on me where it might have gone. It's a reminder both of how smaller some things are getting because my older Petzl would be nowhere near as compact with its need for rather old-fashioned oblong 3LR12 batteries to provide its power. Next time, I think that I'll make a conscious note of where the newer lamp is being put so as to curtail any subsequent head scratching.

Yesterday evening and overnight, a white blanket arrived in and around Macclesfield. A company Christmas night out meant that I was out in Manchester to see the white stuff blanketting there and Stockport too. Again the south of England seems to have been affected too with Twitter awash with transport companies telling what services are running and where. However, it seems that hardly anywhere has escaped with Wales and Scotland seeing some too.

There was a time when this sort of weather was enough to have me out doors pottering over the white coverings but it doesn't seem to hold the same appeal for me these days. Was it last winter's snows that broke the spell? Prior to that, snow was a short-lived visitor that never satisfied my curiosity and was enough to lure me out of doors, even to pace over local paths. Now, it seems that there is a feeling of extra effort required to get about instead, not that I don't have the ability of the kit to be able to get where I want to go.

All of this has me wondering if the same sort of becalming has affected my hillgoing. It's easy to point out causes such as changing job, having busy working weeks, not getting alluring weather or being tired at weekends but there may be another cause: have I more than sated my hill country appetite? With that in mind, it might be an idea to see if there are ways around this if it indeed is the cause.

Popping up accessible little hills might be one of them and my visit to Caer Caradoc last month was very much of this ilk; the fact that it wasn't crowded either helped for enjoyment of the walk. Ironically, this months issue of Country Walking has a feature on walking little hills and Hope Bowdler, not at all far from Caer Caradoc or Church Stretton, gains a mention in there as does Ysgyryd Fawr near Abergavenny. Maybe, creating a collection of little hills on my proverbial ideas shelf for easy planning could help to overcome any present torpor. This is far from list ticking because I like to go for walks to enjoy the surrounding countryside and not to say that I have "done" all the tops on a certain list or other.

The word "little" cropped again in my reading, this time in an issue of TGO that I was perusing on the way down to Oxford for a business trip. What I spied on those pages was a review of Cicerone's Scotland's Best Small Mountains. Since then, I have acquired a copy of the said guide as an eBook and discovered that smallness is in the eye of the beholder. With Country Walking, the sorts of heights are in the 300-500 metre category but many of the "small mountains" are in the 700-900 metre range. There are other contrasts too with some of the hills featured in the Cicerone book being out in pretty wild countryside, a counterpoint to the more genteel surroundings of those in the magazine. The guide starts in the northwest highlands of Scotland and works its way south and throws up a number of options worthy of exploring, some of which I have actually walked. Here, Ben Vrackie and Morrone come to mind but there are one or two others if my memory serves me correctly.

It might that both the magazine and the book are highlighting something of which I have grown short: ideas. There also is the need for time to ponder and plan such things, particularly for those longer excursions. Then, I might be able get things going again in 2011 but my ambitions are sure to be modest. After all, I have been developing a certain dislike for lofty terms like summits and peaks and now find referring to such things as tops to be much more amenable. Whatever I call them, there will be no obsession with these because it will be the walking, exploring and savouring that will matter above all else.

My staying at home over the weekend has less to do with the weather not being all that inspiring. After all, it wasn't that unpleasant either so an outing wouldn't have gone amiss. However, there were other things needing doing whose details don't belong on a blog such as this. Even so, I got to completing the sprucing up the Snowdonia album in the photo gallery for now. Where there was one album, there now are two: one for the area's castles and another for its hill country. As with much of my poring over old photos, ideas come to mind for excursions. The Nantlle Ridge looks interesting and there's poking around the Carneddau from Bethesda. Should the right weather make its appearance and other matters release me, they could come in handy. In the meantime, there are more photos from that weekend in Ireland to be sorted and the Kerry album is being given the once over in between everything else. Also, next Saturday is looking promising and my mind might be free to make use of it. Of course, weather predictions can change but, unless you keep an eye, windows of opportunity can be missed and mental soreness might be the result when the rain soaking seems neverending. For now though, there are stirrings of complaints about a drought but they may be emerging too soon…

Last weekend, I crossed the Irish Sea for a more social visit to the southwest of the island where my parents live. While there was a spot of lawn-mowing, hedge-cutting and other bits and bobs to be done, there were chances for limited immersion in hill country too. Friday saw us heading to Gougane Barra in West Cork. The sun was playing hard to get until later in the day but that didn’t spoil any enjoyment derived from poking around Coillte’s forest park in the Valley Desmond. There remains one trail that I would mind doing but it’s best never to exhaust the possibilities of anywhere. In any case, having had good weather for photography on a previous visit meant that it didn’t matter on this occasion.

If I had been dissatisfied, Saturday was going to rub it in with its cloudless skies and strong hot sunshine but I wasn’t to be bothered. The sun did change my colour as I attended to lawn edging and other tasks but it was nothing that a rub of after-sun soother couldn’t sort. It turned out that Sunday was going to offer more of the same so hat-wearing and sun screen were my defences against the attentions of strong sunshine. Letting down my guard wasn’t an option.

Though many were heading for the coast, we struck on for Killarney. With the heat that was to be felt, it wouldn’t have been the wisest to embark on a long hike without acclimatisation but it was not going to be that sort of day. In fact, the time was taken up with driving from spot to spot and strolling around them too. The locations included Looscaunagh (where the old disused pub is now for sale; who’s going to buy a derelict building in the middle of nowhere in these times?), Moll’s Gap, a stop to the west of Ladies’ View, a lunch stop by the Upper Lake and Muckross House and Gardens. Though there were coach parties being conveyed, Moll’s Gap didn’t feel overrun and it was only as we came downhill again that more and more other folk were being encountered.

Though there was a suggestion of haze, no cloud occupied the sky. Not was that a complete change from the last time that I was around there but giving the sun unobstructed access to the countryside had a dramatic visual effect. In fact, I really have to think back in time to pick out a visit to Iveragh that was blessed with such good weather. The last one must have been of a Sunday in September not long after the turn of the century, when we were celebrating a family occasion with a ride out from Ross Castle around Lough Leane on the Waterboat. Before that, my memory is taken to 1995 by photos that I took that long ago. A few years before that, there was a drive down the rough track into the Black Valley and on to through Gap of Dunloe. Maybe I need to visit more often so as to even up the odds of getting optimum weather.

With my luck with the weather around Killarney, it might be that 2010′s visit will stick in the memory for being a photographic sweet shop. Only the chance of having an earlier start or a later finish would have made it better. As it was, I had to contend with high sun and the risk of lens flare but I came away with something better than anything that I got before regardless. The viewpoints were by now familiar to me so I had ideas as to what to do with them and there was no fumbling in the ever strengthening sun. That’s not to say that i wasn’t open to anything that came my way and I now have quite a few photos to organise.

Apart from a longer out and back walk down the spit of land that separated Muckross Lake from Lough Leane. It was all short strolls for me but that was no bad thing with temperatures hitting up to 25º C. That’s not to say that some weren’t embarking on longer journeys with a charity cycle in progress and a good of folk out on (hired?) bikes. Some of the latter were later found with their feet in the cooler waters of Muckross Lake and who’d blame them? Others were loafing around in front of Muckross House as I caught it catching the sun for the first ever time.

As good as the day was, I left with ideas for the future with the main one being the prospect of a walk all around Muckross Lake. That would need more time than I had and figuring out something to occupy less patient souls while that is in train will be a must; I ended up most of half an hour late on returning from my walk and it sounded as if every minute was an eternity for someone, not good but I was at peace and I didn’t let it get to me. An ice cream stop in Barraduff put that behind us and I got to capture a view of the Paps between the more urban paraphernalia too.

The day after couldn’t have been more different with its foggy greyness but things got ever brighter as I continued north to Dublin as I commenced my eastward return. It had taken over well by the time that my flight took off into the air. On the way over Wales, I spied the hills of Snowdonia and made out gashes like the Ogwen Valley and the Llanberis Pass. They were helping me to draw distinctions between the Carneddau, the Glyderau and Snowdon itself. In the midst of all this, I even tried looking for Moel Siabod but without certainty as to whether I had picked it out from the surrounding bumps though the Conwy Valley was unmistakable. Apart from recollections of Welsh hill outings, all this was reminding me that I am in the middle of giving the Snowdonia photo album in the photo gallery a makeover. That’s not finished yet and new photos of Kerry already are in mind as is doing something with the uncertainties of the bank holiday weekend that is upon us. All this is the sort of activity that has to take second place to the necessary tasks of everyday life but it never stops in its own way either.

Those Irish strolls may have been short but I was left feeling so at ease that I ended up thinking that I don’t go over there often enough. That’s an old problem but resolving it could be interesting if perusals of recent issues of Walking World Ireland are to have any effect.

With a bank holiday weekend ahead of us, thoughts turn to making use of the extra time. In truth, the pondering started last week and my thinking ended up in Northumberland even if I didn’t. It’s been a while since my sole hike by the county’s coastline near the start of 2006 and, given that I had a largely cloudy day for my exertions, it would be worth going back to savour the sights. Then, I journeyed from Alnmouth to Craster and back again so there are sights such as Dunstanburgh and Bamburgh castles awaiting my attention along with Lindisfarne. Public transport connections make a day trip tricky but it might be high time that I spent a bit longer over there.

While on the subject of a few days around Northumberland, my brain wandered inland to Wooler where I began to consider using St. Cuthbert’s Way for heading west to Kirk Yetholm. Transport (on Sundays and bank holidays, that is; it’s reasonable on other days) and other practicalities set me to considering the following of the Borders Abbeys Way for getting to Kelso for onward travel. Another walking option in the area would be going east along St. Cuthbert’s Way towards the coast where travel connections are better of a Sunday.

After that mental meander inland, it is time to return to the intended subject for this posting. That takes me to Arran, another part of the world where I haven’t been for a few years since I walked to the top of Goatfell on Easter Sunday in 2006.Then, i got mixed weather with hail near the summit, a patch of snow on the path on the way down and a deluge that beset me while making my way back to my lodgings for the night. Next day, I took a bus ride around the island with occasional showers never far away. There is a coastal path to complement the bumpy stuff in the north of the island and that is what brings the island into this discussion. A return is long overdue and following part of the island’s coastline would make a good excuse to spend more time there again.

Turning south brings me to the Isle of Man and its coastal path. To date, the island has received just a single solitary flying visit and I am tempted by the prospect of spending a bit more time seeing more of the place. It has its hills too but you sometimes can get to know what lies inland while peering in from the coast. So far, it is largely uncharted terrain for me and that might be adding a certain frisson of novelty to the idea too.

Staying on a southward trajectory takes me to another part of the world where I haven’t been for next to four years: Pembrokeshire. A lengthened weekend down there had me walking from Newgale to St. David’s on Saturday, around Marloes on Sunday and around Newport while on the way home on Monday. While there, I got lucky with the weather and the sunshine did plenty of justice to the indented coastline as it wowed me while I took in my ever changing surroundings. Be warned that there are plenty of ups and downs with gentleness not being a strong point of the gradients. By the end of my walk on Saturday, it was time for a well earned rest after the way that my leg muscles had been exercised along the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path. It may feel that I have taken in a lot, I only have nibbled at the national  trail so there’s much more to savour yet.

There is a reason why I am sticking with a few examples of coastal trails for now: there are loads and enacted legislation is to provide more access so there must be a certain something to exploring coastline for more than me. Navigation generally is easy and the scenery can be an intoxicating mix too. Some walk may walk right around Britain or another island but I’ll content myself with pleasing sections like those mentioned above. Others such as the Fife Coastal Path, the Gower and the South West Coast Path are there should I ever decide on very new horizons but pacing myself feels more sensible. Plenty of tempting options exist that are nearer to me and keeping closer to home mightn’t be such a bad plan.

In its own way, the forthcoming bank holiday weekend set all of this off. It looks like bringing a mixture of weather to us but don’t they all? Even so, I have concocted some sort of scheme to break me away from the day to day routine. As is my habit, I’ll leave it to work out how it will before saying more on here.