Collected Musings of a Hill Wanderer

Last weekend saw me follow a flight of fancy in that I journeyed up to Fort William on the Sleeper from Crewe. A forecast showing some sunshine was what unleashed me but the reality was more foggy when I reached Fort William. Incidentally, it was very foggy when I left Crewe too but that didn't stop me wondering at what I had done, even if I had gained a glorious view of the Black Mount beyond Loch Tulla or of the hills around Loch Treig on the way.

Despite a quandary induced by the weather that I , I stuck with my original design of popping over to Glenfinnan with two options in mind. The one that came to pass was a short trot along the banks of Loch Shiel and there was some the sun was found to be out when I arrived too though it wasn't to last with grey clouds eventually taking over the sky. Wisps of low cloud affixed themselves to hillsides too as if to amaze the passing wanderer. Add a stag to the scene and he partaking of some silage left out for feeding and there was some wild magic in the peaceful stillness. The surrounding hills looked majestic too so this was a good introduction that needs following up but more thoughts of unfinished business came to mind.

After all, it was ongoing unfinished business at work that made me wonder if I was doing the right thing in undertaking a weekend away but there were more instances from the outdoors world that overtook this. On Sunday morning, the thought of a trot around by Cow Hill and Glen Nevis came to mind but there really wasn't the time for doing that in any state other than in a worried rush and Scotland's fine countryside deserves better than that.

Other examples also joined the queue. Reprising the part of the West Highland Way between Bridge of Orchy, Kinlochleven and Glen Nevis is but one. Seeing more of the hills of the Black Mount and around Loch Etive or Glen Etive is another. Then, there's following up on fleeting visits to Morar and Ardgour more than twelve months ago. Part of the motivation for all of this is my coming away with pleasing photos but that has been an ever present motivation in my explorations of hill country and it's good to see that it still does the trick for me.

On the way home, the sight of Cameron McNeish's The Skye Trail on a bookshelf in Glasgow was enough to have a copy come away with me and that reminded me that I have unfinished business up there too. A fuller review has appeared elsewhere on the blogosphere so I won't be doing one but it's a pleasing mix of route description and social history that also was typical of the volume on the The Sutherland Trail, itself also in my possession and needing further perusal.

All in all, this is far cry from my state of mind last autumn when it became difficult to overcome any sense of fatigue to get out in the countryside all that often. Now, I blame the sense that there was nothing out there that drew me out anymore. Of course, that is fallacious and it's good to have cured it for now. All that it took was the arrival of arctic weather with a good deal of snow and a Christmas spent in Ireland (catching up with a few issues of TGO too) for that one to be put out of commission.

Those heavy coatings of snow that many of us were to find round about our way before Christmas weren't left go without my going out and sampling the transformed countryside, even if my excursions were mere nibbles compared with what others were doing. On the Monday before Christmas, I got myself into the hills not far from Glossop with Shelf Benches being the limit of my explorations. Tuesday saw me pottering about Lindow Common enthralled by the way clumps of snow were clinging to any vegetation. Wednesday afternoon was too good to leave go so I tried out and circular trot round by Prestbury, starting from my own front doorstep. A Christmas trip to Ireland in spite of snow showers closing Dublin Airport and sending me around the island a bit more than I intended offered its own opportunities too. That meant some wandering along snowy roads and over well coated fields before the thaw came on St. Stephen's Day (Boxing Day to the British). The only sign of snow since was a greasy damp dusting that greeted me on the morning of my first day back at work for 2011.

It was after a chaotic weekend for travel in the U.K. that I finally had the chance of making something of what had visited us on Friday evening and beyond. With the aftermath of the snowfall and the impact of the cold weather in mind, I decided against going too far and stuck with an option that erupted in my mind the day before: sampling the hill country near Glossop again after being absent for a few years. The prospect of popping over to Longdendale was an extension that never came to pass but it was better not to get too carried away during the hours that were available to me. That was just as well because any attempt to approach Shelf Moor and its neighbours would have been stymied but for my having my Kahtoola Microspikes with me; they stuck into the ice superbly to get me further away from civilisation than otherwise might have been the case. Beyond the obstacle, it was over to the cleats of my Scarpa ZG10's to keep me upright and they did that apart from downhill skid on slippery snow that didn't carry me either too far or into any danger; it merely was a warning not to get too carefree. Cloud was advancing from the south but enough sunlight was left to me for making a pleasing record of what surrounded me. It was only after Mossy Lea farm that I had the chance to use the Access Land to leave the more travelled way to have a potter about. In the end, I contented myself with reaching the foot of Shelf Benches after following a landrover track as far as a broken down wall from where I followed animal tracks as far as was sensible.

Strangely, there were more folk around when I made my return to Glossop; there only was one other soul out when I was venturing away from civilisation. Some were struggling over the icy obstruction with instep crampons while others seemed to get around it without any need for specialised kit at all. My incursion into the whitened outdoors may not have carried me far but I did gain a bit of height to gaze over humps and bumps that lay about me so satisfaction was assured.

The next day's sampling of whitened surroundings was a snatched trot about the Black Lake on Lindow Common. Every tree and scrub had clumps of snow stuck to it, which may for dramatic sights when walking though the Common's more wooded parts. These were sights that I rarely get to see so I lingered even though there were other things to be done and there was time-consciousness into the bargain too. The afternoon of the day after was less rushed as I walked from my house to Prestbury. Light was beginning to fade a little and there were sights that reminded me of Lindow as I followed the Bollin. There were thoughts of walking back via Tytherington but an iced up track under a railway put a stop to that; a quick local trot had me leaving the Microspikes behind and they were needed unless I contented myself with wandering through Prestbury village and back home by roadside footways whose gradients were a solid reminder of the depression of a valley through which the Bollin flows. That's what I did to reach the cover of streetlights before daylight finally failed for the day.

Those Irish explorations took place in better light so there was enough for photo of unusual scenes for a usually mild part of the country. Well, seeing clumps of snow stuck to everything and hearing the dropping of snow dust within a hedge or a bush just isn't usual at all. Much of my venturing took the form of careful road walking though I followed farm roadways too. In hindsight, I was glad to have sampled what I did because a rapid thaw after Christmas Day didn't take long to remove all the whiteness from everywhere; that was almost as dramatic as the snow fall and arctic temperatures themselves. It may be January but one cannot be betting on any repeat of what came from the north to us and many would appreciate its staying away for a good while after all of the disruption that was caused. Well, it goes to show that nature's beauty has a price bit it's worthwhile when you gaze upon scenes like those shared here.

After the passing of 2010, my only wish is that 2011 brings you and yours good things. The past year saw me distracted by a change of job in the middle of it and I think that it may have reduced my output on here. However, after catching up with a few issues of TGO in recent days, I have come to thinking that I need to keep reading more from the outdoors media because my perusal certainly popped a few ideas into my head for the coming year. What's needed now is to make something of the few flakes that are littering my brain at the moment.

The recent arctic conditions may have made my Christmas travelling more adventure-filled than I'd intended but it also brought me an afternoon spent pottering around the hills beside Glossop gain. There is the seed of a post arising from that little outing but I also got to seeing how Lindow Common and the Bollin Valley look with clumps of snow stuck to everything around them too. Then, there were trots around rural Limerick in Ireland to savour what are rare conditions for the southwest of Ireland. It might be that one posting would suffice to collect my experiences on those little tasters of a whitened world.

Though I also am playing with the idea of a local wander before returning to work on Monday, there also are designs on a quick sortie by Caledonian Sleeper to see what's left of snowy coverings in the Scottish Highlands. That's something with which I have been playing for a while but it'll be a little look rather than a deep incursion. It remains to be seen if I can make anything of it.

Other brainwaves for the year include a longer sojourn in an area new to me (and perhaps others) that results in a number of posting that I can share on here. Firm ideas are few and far between at the moment but I did concoct a scheme centred on Mallaig that has me going out to the Small Isles. Maybe visiting Islay and Jura might be other propositions. Then, there's always the call of my native Éire for a fuller hill country excursion to follow up my nibble of the Wicklow Mountains nearly two years ago now.

With regard to smaller forays, there are hills around Keswick that I'd like to explore too after a few years of struggling to find a reason to go back there. That has come from the TGO writings of others and I am thankful of them too. Looking through old photos has brought thoughts of trying to better them and that could see me exploring Derbyshire a bit more too.

It's all very well making designs for a whole year when it can surprise you in a way that you cannot expect but not having the ideas at all will lead to torpor like what I felt towards the end of 2010. That is something that I'd like not to see happening again. Let's hope that all of us manage to get in some quality hill time over the coming year, even if life has a habit of getting in the way from time to time.

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.

Surely, this winter must go down in memory as one with an early blast of cold weather that brought with it a hell of lot of snow in places. While Macclesfield and Wilmslow came off more lightly than other places, we still have to watch our step while walking about; those pesky areas of black ice can give you a toss before you know it. Nevertheless, the B5470 Macclesfield-Whaley Bridge, A537 Macclesfield -Buxton and A54 Congleton-Buxton roads were shut until last weekend so good dumps of snow weren't at all far away.

While on the subject of places that got more snow, Sheffield comes with its having a covering of several feet of snow in places. In fact, some footways are so trampled that a coffee table smoothness is a threat to life and limb. If I lived over there, I could see my Kahtoola Microspikes being in use every day. Maybe those work colleagues who have been struggling to get from there to our place of work every day might do with something from AutoSock as noted elsewhere in the blogosphere.

Even with all the horror stories, alluring thoughts of seeing hills in full winter garb still tempt me. However, any thoughts of seeing Scottish hills have to be tempered by the recent travel chaos up there. Hopefully, it'll work out OK for everyone caught up in it. Still, Caledonian Sleeper and other train services seem to be heavily hit by the conditions. That mix of fresh snow falling on icy roads really has caused chaos. It's all very well daydreaming of white wildernesses but they have another side.

Maybe that thaw over the weekend will ease things enough to help all who have been marooned by what has been with us for a few weeks now. It even might allow a chance to make good those daydreams with whatever whiteness remains wherever I may go. After all, I quite fancy an outing given that it has been a few weeks since the last one.