Lunch on a Levada

Dave and Barry - senior members of this LoTSW trio - enjoy a rare moment in a levada tunnel, where lunch was taken in this sheltered spot on a cliff face. Such is the Levada dos Piomais.

The rare moment relates to the 'light shower' we are experiencing. Dave and I don't usually encounter rain. It must be Barry's fault!

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Friday 20 November 2009 – Last Vestiges of Autumn

It’s all looking a bit bare just now, so whilst it is sunny here, we are off to warmer climes for a while.

I’ll be reporting briefly from there…

Hello

Hello, we are still here, fighting off a virus.

It’s a computer ailment and has taken up far too much of my time this week.

Darren is helping, but we’ll be taking a break tomorrow, for a week, when the Blackberry thingy will take over, and that hasn’t got a virus.

Meanwhile I’ve just about caught up with some reading, and was entertained by this from Martin Rye:

and this from Wiggers World (hope Tom is feeling better):

I’ve never been up the Eiger, but we frequently beat out the rhythm of the Animals whilst hiking over the Yorkshire Moors in the old days, when Cream, John Mayall and Zoot Money were all regulars at our favourite music venue – Redcar Jazz Club.

Finally, Adventure Travel magazine occasionally comes up with a little nugget, such as this:

It hasn’t rained here in Timperley today, but apparently the Lake District has rather copped it.  Commiserations go to the soggy residents, and to students on a Mountain Leaders Training Course, who are currently out on an ‘expedition’.  No doubt Heather T-S will come through with flying colours!

Sunday 15 November 2009 – The Calf in Cloud

Mike joined Andrew and me on a trip up The Calf back on 20th July.  His new project – climbing the Yorkshire 2000 footers – required him to climb it again.

So Mike, Bruno and I duly assembled outside the Cross Keys Temperance Inn at 9.30 am today.

Sun was forecast.

I’ve tried to over-expose these shots to give the impression of sunshine, which I am assured by Sue bathed Timperley all day.

As you can see, the horses fancied Bruno, but he wasn’t sure…

Then it started to rain.  I’ve managed to digitally wipe the water from the lens, though Mike may not have been so lucky as his camera had lost the will to ‘view’ (ie its LCD monitor had died, showing a constant image of a blobby cloud).

Lots of water was cascading down the Spout.  A foursome who had set off with us, and gone ahead, were already returning to the valley.

The Pie Man needed a snack.  He claimed it was a quiche, but it looked more like a pie to me.  Bruno likes pies.  He ate some.

Mike lost his compass, but luckily I had one, so we managed to locate The Calf’s 676 metre summit.  This despite the distraction of Mike’s camera suffering heart failure.  After a selection of “b*****d, I thought I’d recharged them” remarks from Mike as he fiddled with a selection of batteries, the camera finally zz’d back into its own version of pathetic death throey noises.

Q:  “Do you think it will last until Christmas?”  A:  “No.”

Thanks go to a conveniently encountered man with a SRC1 walking pole, for composing the above masterpiece.

Meanwhile, the rain had relented, though in the cool, breezy conditions we were happy to keep waterproofs installed for the rest of our stroll.

Bruno dried out as well, though at the far point of our walk, by Bowerdale Beck, he developed a severe limp.  “Oh s**t” said Mike, “I’m not carrying him back from here.”

Meanwhile, Mike seemed to become aware of his impending strangulation, which turned out to be the errant compass – in its efforts to remind Mike of its existence it was slowly tightening its grip by winding its way around his throat.  It’s usually Bruno who does this – by running in circles with his lead gradually wrapping its way around the unsuspecting traveller.

Large lumps of jelly, with the consistency of wallpaper paste, lay beside the path.  Mike knows about these things – apparently its source is a mystery (the puking birds theory seems a trifle unlikely!), but it does contain organic material.  John Wyndham would have a field day…

We gave the limping Bruno a five minute break.  He went to sleep.  Then we embarked on the steep ascent of Yarlside, ready to abandon the dog if he couldn’t keep up.  Luckily, he’d forgotten that he had a limp, and he proceeded to haul Mike up the hill, our second Marilyn of the day, (Mike’s an ardent ‘Bagger’).

The summit of Yarlside was free of clag, but in the dull weather the views were unremarkable.  The descent was steep.  “This would be good in snow” we agreed, surveying the smooth, steep hillside.  It was wet and slippery.  We sat down and raced each other to the bottom, enjoying the bum-warming qualities of the friction of overtrousers on wet moss.

Here’s our route – if the weather had been better we’d have included Hazelgill Knott as well – 13 km, 890 metres of ascent, taking just over 5 hours.

We spent a pleasant hour in Cross Keys Temperance Inn – surprisingly hospitable despite the lack of beer, with coffees, a tasty scone for me, and a glass of mysterious red liquid that seemed to bring Mike back to life.

Then we interrupted a photo shoot and went home.

The full slide show, principally for Mike’s benefit, is here.  And his report on our day out is here.

Thursday 12 November 2009 – A Winter Circuit from Alstonefield

Blue skies greeted this Timperley resident this morning.  So he leapt into the car and sidled off to Alstonefield, where three free car parks buck the trend of expensive ‘Pay and Display’ in the Peak District.

After setting off at 9.20 past the church in cool sunshine, I slid down dew laden paths to Milldale, whilst the mist rolled in.

By the time I emerged onto the Tissington Trail, the conditions were distinctly ‘atmospheric’.

Leaving the Trail, after chattering to Blue Tits, Great Tits, Blackbirds and Goldfinches, I headed towards sunlit Biggin, but failed to catch much of the sunlight as cloud from the next weather front imperceptibly rolled in to replace the mist.

It was only 11.30 – the doors of the Waterloo Inn were still shut.  I would have to wait for a taste of Stuart’s Black Sheep bitter.

A good track led past this lovingly reconstructed dry stone wall.

Soon the view down to Wolfscote Dale revealed a very Autumnal scene, with the remaining foliage mainly very yellowy and ready to drop, as it is in Timperley.

Mallards on the River Dove were being hassled by a pair of Goosander, but this Dipper, and a rather scruffy Heron (maybe it was trying to stay warm) were very much minding their own business.

 

Wolfscote is a popular dale.  After seeing virtually nobody for three hours, I met a procession of folk heading for a late lunch in Hartington.

The sun had disappeared long before I reached my crossing point – Gipsy Bank Bridge.  Gipsy Bank, just beyond, is a bit of a haul…

At the top of the hill a Raven sat on a fence post, (‘pruk’, ‘pruk’), watching a field of munching cattle that were clearly aware of the direction of the prevailing weather.

But the rain kept off until after I had passed the Alstonefield Dinosaur on my way back to reach the car by soon after 1 pm.

It’s a 17 km route, with 560 metres ascent, for which you should allow around four hours.

I took a few more snaps – there’s a (admittedly pretty ordinary) slide show with 30 pictures here.

Anyone wishing to join us on a re-run of this walk should meet outside the small car park by the public toilets in Alstonefield at 10.00 am on Sunday 13 December.  Lunch has been booked at the Waterloo Inn, so you need to contact me in advance (use the ‘Contact us’ button here) to get menu details and make a choice.

Tuesday 10 November 2009 – Settle to Malham and back

After yesterday’s sunshine, Mike Knipe and I braved the morning dreichness to rendezvous in Settle.  Booth’s car park was a suitable rendezvous point, but in the absence of a café therein we wandered up the street to a deserted looking ‘Poppies’ café.  The coffee was good, and seated in the far corner were some familiar faces – John Towers and his wife.  ‘Out of context’ (ie not on the TGO Challenge) Mike and I were greeted by baffled looks, as if we had just arrived from the moon!  John’s twin brother David soon arrived, and he and Mike burbled on for a while about their forthcoming 20th and 10th Challenges respectively, before Mike and I released ourselves into the misty atmosphere and rescued Bruno (Superdawg) from beneath a picnic table.

During our sojourn in the café the light rain had ceased, so we enjoyed a dry stroll to Malham and back, albeit in rather seriously overcastness.

Bruno took delight in being out on the hill, dragging his master up the path out of Settle.

The town remained in a November pall of smoke tainted vapour.

 
Up at Attermire, Mike pointed out some iron debris that he claimed had been used in wartime anti tank testing.

If they were testing the ‘bullets’, they passed, but if they were testing the armour plating – I’m sorry, but it failed!

Mike enjoyed one of his customary mid-morning snacks….

…before diving down a cave.  There are many caves in this area – you are reprieved from my intended discourse on the ones we passed, due to the ‘Malham and Penyghent’ volume of ‘Northern Caves’ being ‘in preparation’ during my ‘caving phase’, so I’ll leave any extra information to Mike*.  We did get quite muddy, though, and Bruno the cave dog was pleased to return to the surface as he hadn’t been provided with a lamp.

We probably managed just 10-15 metres down here, Miner’s Hole – in the vicinity of Pikedaw Calamine caverns, where gritstone meets limestone to provide numerous underground cave systems.

We passed a manhole cover under which a 23 metre ladder – about 9 inches wide, disappeared into the murky depths of a bell shaped cavern.  Bruno declined the invitation to go down this, and a few minutes later decided he didn’t want to fetch this pair of electrically powered boots that had been put on a ‘washing line’ high above the path.

The Buck Inn welcomed us in, mud, dog and even Mike, to its warm interior and an excellent dose of Skipton Brewery’s Copper Kettle bitter.  Here we met another group of ramblers – virtually the only folk we saw all day.

After stumbling off for more pies, we approached the magnificent rock wall of Malham Cove.  Mike fantasized about the waterfall that must once have flowed over here, and about his previous life as a mountaineer, when he climbed here.

Today we climbed it by a different route, as Bruno had forgotten the rope, though he did lead his boss over some quite difficult terrain when he got the chance.

A fair part of the afternoon was spent on a well surfaced track that led from Langscar Gate, to the north of Langcliffe Scar, all the way to Jubilee Cave and beyond, whence we took a slithery footpath above Langcliffe, heading for the rapidly brightening lamps of Settle.

Here’s an outline of our 23 km route, with 830 metres ascent, taking around 7 hours, including some nice long breaks.

An excellent day out.  Thanks for your company, Mike. 

[Mike’s take on today’s walk, using the same photos but different text, is here.]

I believe we may meet again on Sunday 15 November for a walk up The Calf – meet at SD 698 969 at 9.30 am – all welcome.

* There’s no escape – Mike has emailed the cave data:

”Just to confirm the names and statistics of the caves on yesterday’s ramble:
The first one, which I thought was Spider Cave is actually Bivi Cave Grade 1 10 feet.
Pikedaw Calamine Caverns is 3200 feet Grade 2. The entrance pitch is 75 feet and there are several caverns : Cavern 84, Cavern 44 Cavern 104, The Great Shake, Mitchell's Cavern and an unnamed cavern containing the entrance pitch.
Miners Hole 240 feet Grade 2 (higher grade due to  crawls).
Jubilee Cave 300 feet Grade 1 - is actually 3 adjacent caves - excavations  found neolithic and celtic archeology.”

Autumn Sunshine in Timperley

Well, after many overcast days, we at last enjoyed wall to wall sunshine today.

Shame it was an ‘admin’ day.

Sunday 8 November 2009 – A Circuit from Burtonwood

I popped out for a stroll on a gloomy Sunday morning.  At least the rain kept off, though judging by the motorway spray it could have been chucking it down.

From the deserted car park of the Chapel House pub in the nondescript village of Burtonwood, where lots of smartly dressed middle aged folk were engaged in Remembrance Day activities, I headed across sodden fields towards the M62, beckoned by the distinctive outline of the Burtonwood Services building, and a large ‘IKEA’ sign.

The paths appeared rarely walked and were deserted today.  I bimbled on past broken signs and piles of rubbish (being close to Liverpool!), across fields planted with spring crops, eventually emerging from underneath the motorway into Sankey Valley Park.  Here, an avenue of birches leads the walker alongside Sankey Brook on the left and past the high fences of one of Warrington’s new industrial estates on the right.

The hedgerows around here were teeming with bird life; a buzzard, gliding between its favourite perches, flocks of starlings, chaffinches and more wary yellowhammers, chattering sparrows, black-headed and black-backed gulls, gaudy jays and distracted blackbirds.

The trees here are looking quite bare, leaving little cover for the birds.

The colours hereabouts reminded me of a car my dad once had - ‘Maestro Bronze’ perhaps?  No, I fear it was a rather ugly, mustard coloured Morris Marina.  Not my dad’s finest hour!

After crossing a footbridge, I headed alongside the brook, passing bushes laden with berries.

Soon I reached The Sankey Navigation (St Helens Canal), the first canal of the English Canal Age.  It opened in 1757, two years before the Bridgewater Canal, and was used mainly to transport coal from St Helens’ collieries and, more recently, sugar from the Sankey Sugar Refinery, to Liverpool for over 200 years.

After its closure in the 1960s it deteriorated rapidly, with some sections being completely filled in.  Recently some restoration has taken place, but some sections of the canal are only traceable by the outline of edging stone.

Winwick Dry Dock (below), made from sandstone, with stepped sides and curved ends is the only remaining dry dock on the canal.  The sleepers were for the traditional ‘Mersey Flat’ boats to rest on.  Once a boat was inside the dock the gates were closed and the water was drained through a culvert – very simple and effective.

Here’s a lock that was filled in but which has recently been ‘restored’.

The ‘winter crops’ (looks like grass to me – a townie) are currently flooded in places in these fields, but look healthy enough.

A winding path led back along a short section of fly-tipped road to a track, past some stables near a kingfisher pond, where a couple of horses were clearly joyous after being liberated from their warm stable into a field, and onto the road that led back to my start point in the centre of Burtonwood village, where the pub was still shut and its car park still empty.

This pleasant 10 km (6 mile) amble took me a leisurely 2¼ hours.

Here’s a brief outline – it’s based on Jen Darling’s ‘Around Sankey’ walk in her book – Walks in North Cheshire.  It’s covered by Explorer Map 276, which shows all the paths described.

Park in Burtonwood village and turn left from the front door of Chapel House pub, pass the church, then turn right down a footpath beyond the parish hall.

Soon reach fields and continue on to cross a track to more fields, to reach Tan House Lane.  Turn right then immediately left down Burtonwood Road.

Turn left before the road rises to cross the motorway, and head down the lane to Dial Post Farm.  Go straight on through the grotty farmyard and follow waymarks by the field edge, keeping to the right of the hedge.

Go straight on at one sign, then after a few metres follow a further sign, bearing right across the field towards a pylon.  On reaching the pylon, carry on through a wide gap in the hedge, along a track through the crops towards a lone tree then on to reach the M62.

Turn left, then right, under the motorway and into Sankey Valley Park.  Keeping the brook on your left and the industry to your right, continue on pleasant paths until a concrete bridge takes you left and over the brook.

Follow the path alongside the brook for a few hundred metres before leaving it in favour of a gravel track with the remains of the St Helens Canal between you and the railway.  Continue along here, appreciating the industrial heritage (information boards) until you come to an old canal building with 1841 written on its side.

Go under the M62 and down a gravel lane to the left of a scrap yard to reach a tarmac lane – Alder Lane.  Turn left and stroll past ugly fly-tipping to reach Sankey Brook again.  Bear right, and after about 50 metres take a path to the left, following the edge of a field with the hedge on your left.

After a while the path veers round to the right.  Continue in this direction briefly, before turning left along a track that leads through a copse and on to a T-junction.  Turn right, then immediately left to pass by stables before reaching the lane (Farmers Lane) that leads back into Burtonwood, where a left turn down Chapel Lane takes you back to the Chapel House pub.

Sunday 1 November 2009 – A Stroll from Cressbrook

Sue, David, Jacqui, Gill, Marcus and Gaynor were the ex-Jo’burg Hiking Club stalwarts who had assembled at Owl Cottage in Cressbrook for the weekend together with Woody.

I braved driving rain and flooded roads to reach them at around 9.45, in plenty of time to enjoy a coffee from the correct side of the rain lashed windows.

Being ‘fair weather walkers’, we fumbled.  Gill did this best, claiming for some time to have lost the boots in which she arrived back from the previous day’s walk.

“Perhaps I left them outside and someone stole them?” she enquired!

The rain eased, the boots miraculously reappeared.  It was time to go.

Sue didn’t want to get her library book and map wet, so the guide book was abandoned and I was given free rein.  My initial plan was binned – they did that walk yesterday; so we headed off towards Litton, sliding through woods and fields, restraining Woody from chasing the cows, and veering off towards Tideswell.

Tideswell is at the edge of one side of the White Peak map, my copy of which is disintegrated to the extent that removing it from the map case in even light rain is inadvisable.  As a result, we fell off the map at the wrong place.  Luckily, nobody noticed, the rain stopped and the sun came out as we strolled up the straight lane towards Water Lane, heading for Wheston.

Beyond Wheston, a rough lane, then tarmac, then another rough and flooded lane – we joined the Limestone Way here – led to fine views south over Miller’s Dale and the gem like scenery of the White Peak.

Having successfully negotiated the flooded track, we slipped down a steep, narrow path, across huge slippery stepping stones through a bog, to the delights of Miller’s Dale, namely the Anglers Rest, a haven for hikers as well as anglers.

There’s a hikers bar, where boots etc can be worn – the sort of place Mike Coldwell would like.  We lingered there for the best part of an hour and a half, joined for lunch by Marcus, who recent activities on the surgeon’s bench have driven him to decline such exercise as today’s in order to nurse his phantom pregnancy.

The stroll back to Cressbrook was delightful, starting across the rampant River Wye, then joining the Monsal Trail – along the course of the old Midland Railway that was opened (to Ruskin’s distress and disgust) in 1863 - for its scenic trip through Litton Mill Railway Cutting, where the 19th century engineers scythed through the 330 million year old rocks.

Here we are before leaving for Litton Mill:

Martin, Jacqui, Woody, Gill, Gaynor, Sue and David.

Jacqui and I go back nearly as far as to the last days of this railway in 1968, so it’s always good to meet up and reminisce.

A deep carpet of leaves led down (below) to Litton Mill, from where the river path was followed briefly before we ascended back to Cresswell, avoiding the habitually flooded section of the path.

Here’s the route – 14 km, 500 metres ascent, taking around 4 hours excluding stops.  A delightful little excursion.

A slide show (20 pictures) of the day’s exploits is here.

Susan’s Visit to Timperley (Manchester) – 26 to 29 October 2009

Here’s a bit more on Susan’s trip, principally for Susan herself.  I hope it will bring happy memories.

We collected Susan and Dave from Kendal, on our way home from Ingleton, and whilst Dave returned home to work, Susan spent four days with us, visiting several local landmarks during the course of her stay. 

There’s a slide show (57 images) here, covering the whole trip.

Monday 26 October - Shutlingsloe

Dave had to return to Birmingham, so it was convenient to drop him at Macclesfield en route to the Peak District.

I reported briefly here by way of a piccie on the summit of Shutlingsloe – the Matterhorn of the Peak District.  Given the view from the summit (uniformly grey), it may just as well have been the Matterhorn!

The mist had however provided a bit of atmosphere as we strolled up to the tree line in Macclesfield Forest.

We bumped into Helen and Richard on the summit of Shutlingsloe and they rejoined us whilst we dallied at this pretty spot in Wildboarclough.

We chatted with them, on and off, all the way to beyond the Hanging Gate near Langley.

It was a great struggle to walk past this, beyond which the Gritstone Trail transported us neatly outside the Leather’s Smithy.

For some reason (perhaps we were muddy) we went past this as well.  I fear some readers will be less than impressed.

Anyway, I can assure you that we returned safely to Sue, and that the wine flowed, with a good meal, that Monday night.

Here’s our route – 11 km, with 500 metres ascent, taking around 3 hours.

Tuesday 27 October – Snowdon

Susan had never visited Snowdonia, so I had the Snowdon Horseshoe in mind by way of a gentle introduction.

I have already reported briefly on this day out, here.

Despite an early start, when we reached Pen-y-pass at 9.15 am we just missed the last legitimate parking space.  Others had no conscience about placing their small cars in the large spaces allocated to minibuses, but Susan and I drove back down the road and parked in the lay-by on the main road by Pen-y-Gwryd Hotel.

Some of the resultant savings were utilised on coffee and cake at the café, once we had strolled back up the road.

The beauty of the Snowdon Horseshoe is that, being a short walk, there are no real time pressures, even in winter.

So it was 10.15 by the time we joined the procession of folk who were filing up the Pyg Track.

[Note to self - ‘start earlier to avoid the crowds’.]

It was quite breezy, with cloud on the tops, so reluctantly we decided to miss out Crib Goch and head easily up the Pyg Track in good weather below the cloud.  It was a pleasant morning’s walk, with only the very summit of the mountain in the murk.

It was my first visit to the new café.  Folk were crouching outside with their butties, only food bought on the premises being allowed to be consumed indoors.  It was 12.15.  Should we enjoy our lunch outside, or buy a drink inside?  The decision was made for us.  The serving hatches lowered their shutters at 12.20.  It was too windy for the supply train to run, and supplies were exhausted.  We were free to enjoy our packed lunch and flask of tea in the warmth of the café.

Heading on around the Horseshoe we descended steeply towards the Watkin Path, soon emerging from the mist.

By the time we reached Bwlch Ciliau we enjoyed wide ranging views to the coast and down to Llyn Llydaw to the north east (below).

 

We strolled along Y Lliwedd, keeping religiously to the ridge, together with a young family.  The children were clearly loving the easy scrambling.

Care was needed on the descent – both Susan and I fell on the greasy rocks, but injuries were avoided and once near the foot of the slope we enjoyed the dregs from the flask before strolling back down to the car.

As is often the case on this walk, the mountains cleared of cloud in the afternoon and Susan was at least able to get a good view of the summits, so she could see a little of what she had missed on Crib Goch.

We finished at 4.15, having enjoyed a leisurely 12 km with 1090 metres ascent in around 6 hours.

Our route is shown above.  It’s quite easy really, as long as you know where to turn east at point 4.  Having said that, we did encounter two lads at the northern end of Y Lliwedd who had mistakenly descended by the Miners Track, when their car was parked at the end of the Watkin Path!  They should just about have made it over Y Lliwedd and back to their car before dark (I bet they didn’t have torches).

Wednesday 28 October – Arnside Knott

The Arnside/Silverdale area, just north of Lancaster, is one of my favourite spots.  Most of our overseas visitors finish up here, in this area of lakes, marshes, woodland, sea shore, limestone pavements and low hills.

I’ve previously mentioned this particular visit, here.  We started with a coffee in the Leighton Moss RSPB café, before strolling down to the public hide, past a group with powerful telescopes looking for bearded tits.

My little camera was totally inadequate, as you can surmise from the slideshow, but during our short stay in the hide, and with the help of a kindly bird watcher and his telescope, we did spot the following:

Whooper swans
Gadwall
Mallard
Shoveler
Coot
Teal
Tufted duck
Pintail
Little Grebe
Cormorant
Moorhen
Black-headed gull

and elsewhere on our walk, these birds were in evidence:

Red grouse
Pheasant
Magpie
Carrion/Hooded Crows
Rock dove
Wood pigeon
Wren
Dunnock
Robin
Blackbird
Goldcrest

and many more unidentified estuary and woodland species.

These short lists rather expose our lack of observation skills in this area, but I have reiterated these positive IDs for Susan’s benefit.

Continuing over a golf course and through a mixed terrain of fields and woodland, we rose eventually to the 159 metre summit of Arnside Knott.  Sitting on a bench with an elderly couple, they confirmed what we could see to the north:

“Torrential rain and a huge traffic jam in Ambleside”, they pronounced, “so we’ve escaped to this spot.  Isn’t it wonderful.”

Well, it was overcast but fine – not a bad day for late October.

A few metres from the bench, this distinctive but long deceased tree, knotted in Victorian times, is always a good spot for a posed picture.

Down the other side of the hill, at Far Arnside, Susan appears to be staring at a wall, whilst I regretted not knowing where Mark (Beating the Bounds – essential reading for those who appreciate this part of the world) lives.  It would have been good to meet him.

Instead, we strolled along the beach to Silverdale, past autumn leaves, to the Wolf House Gallery, much changed since the days of Ted and Denise, but still a good place to linger.  Today it was warm enough to stay outside amongst the many families who were enjoying a day out on their half-term holidays.

On we strolled, past Jack Scout and Jenny Brown’s Point to reach the Smelt Mill Chimney and round the estuary to turn our backs on sunlit Morecambe Bay and return past Heald Brow to a minor road that took us easily back to the bird reserve.

Here’s our route – 17 km, with 350 metres ascent, in a leisurely 6 hours.  There are endless variations and permutations to this – given the numerous footpaths you can make walks around here as long or short as you wish.  Silverdale Beach (point 11) is a good alternative start and finish point.

Thursday 29 October – Dunham Massey

For Susan’s last day in the UK, we chose a venue where Sue could join us.  So after Susan had strolled into Altrincham and explored our local ‘facilities’, we took the 10 minute drive to Dunham Massey and enjoyed pottering around the grounds and the gardens.

I reported earlier, here.

The beech leaves are a lovely coppery colour just now, and when the sun shines, it’s still quite summery.

Then it was a walk back home along the Bridgewater Canal (featured heavily elsewhere on these pages!) before adjourning for a Market Gardener’s Pie at Hale Towers, with Al, Hazel, Andrew, Kate and Fiona.

A very pleasant evening.

Then Susan went home….  We do hope you enjoyed your visit; we certainly enjoyed having you to stay.  And there were some excellent days out….

Here, again, is the link to the slideshow.

Ramsoc Weekend at Ingleton – 24/25 October 2009

I made brief reference to this weekend in an earlier posting.

Now for a bit more….

‘Ramsoc’ is Sue’s Nottingham University hiking club, and this weekend is her contemporaries’ annual opportunity to get together, with families, at some suitably countrified venue.  This has been happening for over 20 years!  Folk are going grey.  Those that still have hair!

(Phil and) Sue is the organising team, and they also plan a decent Saturday walk for those without children in tow.

On Saturday morning we drove up to Dent, intent on walking back to Ingleton via Crag Hill, Great Coum and Gragareth, as planned by Sue.

The light drizzle (it always rains on Sue’s walks, so that was wholly expected) and low cloud were in evidence by the time we reached Crag Hill’s 682 metre trig point.  I looked back to see just Julie in tow.

“I think they must have stopped by the wall”, she reported.

Sure enough, Sue, Phil, Colin, Dick and Jess were huddled at a confluence of walls, admiring the drizzle….and plotting a conspiracy.

We trudged off to Great Coum. 

Of course, everyone got to the top of that.  It’s a ‘Marilyn’.

“We are going back to Dent” one of the conspirators announced. 

“I’m not, the weather’s going to clear” I asserted.

So, six wimps filed off back to Dent (it was their prerogative, of course, just as it is mine to insult them accordingly) whilst I hopped across a few bogs to reach the summit of Gragareth via a scenic lunch stop (bar the fog) on Green Hill.

I didn’t see a human soul after the deserters had left, but on descent from Gragareth these three men appeared – the ‘Three Men of Gragareth’ according to my map.  They had a view, as well.

After this diversion, I headed in fine weather around to Dodson’s Hill then down past Marble Steps Pot to join this newly laid path to Masongill Fell Lane.  Looking back, this path looks good, doesn’t it?  Well, after about 20 metres it deposits the unwary walker in a deep peaty bog!

For the descent to Ingleton, along Tow Scar Road (a track) and some pleasant paths, through fields full of sheep on heat, each field with its randy ram, I had the pleasure of Ingleborough’s fine profile in the distance, here seen beyond Cowgill Farm.

Such a lovely afternoon’s route.  I felt sorry for the six deserters, but was glad not to have to transport the drivers back to Dent, as the rain set in again once I’d gained the comfort of the fleshpots of Ingleton.  (Namely, the youth hostel.)

Here’s my route – 20 km, 750 metres ascent, 6 hours including stops.

Meanwhile – it’s Sue who is the Ramsoc person.  She’s poorly at present, but managed to drag her pain racked being around the
8 km ‘Waterfall Walk’ together with various families.

Here they are at Thornton Force, where you can get behind the waterfall.

They seem to have enjoyed themselves, despite it appearing to be wetter than where I was.  On close observation they seem to have been through some strange ritual.

Followed later by another ritual…

Sunday dawned showery.  Chris left Alys and ‘The Bump’ behind (there was no car space for him) and set off back towards Matlock.  He’d cycled all the way (115 miles) from there on Friday, but today we suspected he would cheat, somewhere around Lancaster.

Meanwhile over 20 of us trundled down to Clapham and enjoyed a
9 km circuit in mainly fine weather with good spirits and good views.

Here’s a cheerful chappie trotting through the frame in search of bouldering challenges, which frequently punctuated our stroll in this land of erratics.

We waited ages for Andy and Jim, who promptly disappeared again.

Today Mike and Phil enjoyed competing with each other to see who could most adversely affect Robert and Martin’s behaviour!

Finally, Clapham Drive led gently back down to Clapham from Ingleborough Cave and the outpouring of the Gaping Gill cave system, with the trees still hanging on to their last vestiges of foliage.

Here’s the day’s route – 9 km, 315 metres ascent, in 4 hours including lots of stops.

Recommended for children.

I’ve been selective with the above images, but there’s a full slideshow (45 pics) and a bit more commentary here.

Well, it’s not quite ‘full’ – I can’t bring myself to upload the picture featuring ‘Randy’, the ram, in action.

Tuesday 3 November 2009 – A Great British Ridge Walk – Number 11 – Dow Crag and Coniston Old Man

During her stay last week, Susan unearthed from a pile of unread books Bill Birkett’s tome entitled ‘Great British Ridge Walks’.

I had promised support for PW’s Wainwright bagging expedition today, so ‘Lakes’ was inked in the diary.  Although that attempt had been aborted I took the opportunity to enjoy a sunny day out and headed off up the M6 in driving rain.

‘If it’s raining now, the sun will shine later’ I told myself.

The road to Torver was flooded.  I tore on regardless.  ‘Clank, clank’ went the car.  I’m not mechanically minded, but a cursory glance was enough to ascertain that the front of the large tray that protects the underside of the engine had become detached and was merrily scooping bits of road and gallons of water up into the engine compartment.

“Hello Mr Myers, I have a problem.”

…I had discovered that Mr Myers has a small garage just off the Walna Scar Road. 

Lucky me.  They dropped everything and set to work on the problem.

“First time it’s ever broken down” I moaned, about Sue’s eight year old motor.

“It hasn’t broken down” muttered the mechanic from the depths of his pit.  “A bit has fallen off, that’s all.”

Forty five minutes later, the boss went down to check the handiwork, shook the offending tray a few times and pronounced it secure for the time being – certainly as secure as they could make it.

“What’s the damage, then?”  I had a £20 note at the ready.

“How about £10”, said Mr Myers, thoughtfully.  He had earlier assured me that the recession had not yet reached Coniston, so “How about £5” I joked.

“Ok”, said the boss, thinking I was being serious.

We settled for £15, which gave us each, in effect, a £5 profit on the transaction.

If you are going to break down, dear reader, I commend you to do so here.

[Interestingly, the ‘dashboard rattle’ that has plagued the car for years, also seems to have miraculously – I hesitate to say ‘vanished’ -subsided.]

Whilst ensconced in the garage, I noticed the lashing rain start to wear itself out, and by the time I set off from the end of the Walna Scar Road at 9.30 it was completely exhausted, with the sun now shining brightly on the copper coloured bracken, and the cloud having lifted off Dow Crag and The Old Man.

Low black clouds provided a threatening looking canopy to the view across to Morecambe Bay, but these had passed me by and were of no practical consequence.

The path was deserted.  Becks crashed down the hillside to join thundering rivers.  Ravens hovered menacingly as I negotiated slippery rocks to reach the summit of Brown Pike, where a hat and gloves were donned for the first time in months.

The onward path to Dow Crag was enjoyable, with excellent views.  The only annoyances were the constantly slippery rocks and the bleeping of the ‘phone which kept losing its signal then waking up to welcome me to the Isle of Man!

The summit of The Old Man of Coniston was deserted when I reached it at noon, but there were around 30 folk slogging their way up the ‘tourist route’, many appearing to be on outdoors training courses.

I noticed a man wearing a fetching cowboy hat slowly ascending.  I wonder whether he or anyone else spotted the Ghostly Prisoner of Colt Crag Mine as they passed through a wide area of old quarries and mine workings.

It was a day of rainbows, apart from the duration of the walk, when the showers passed me by.  Just as I reached the car at 1pm there were a few spots, and this rainbow provided the backdrop to my drive back down to Coniston.

Are those the Ghosts of Christmas Future peering out at me from the windows of the Black Bull?

Here’s today’s route – an enjoyable 10 km, with 780 metres ascent, taking 3.5 hours including tea and lunch breaks.

 
It’s walk 11, on page 48 of this excellent volume (see below), which expands considerably on the history of the mines (they date from the 1560’s to the present day, employed over 600 men at the height of their activity in 1855, and extend up to 500 metres below the surface), and also on the climbing exploits of one O G (only genuine?) Jones.

I’m trying to find a copy of the out of print book for Susan, and spent some of the afternoon scouring the shops of Coniston and Ambleside accordingly.  Fred Houldsworth was helpful, but despite finding the chap who had sold off the last 200 copies …”you could get it anywhere in Ambleside for a tenner up to last year” he told me, I couldn’t track one down.  They have all gone.  Does anyone have a spare copy for sale?

The photos above are just a sample of those taken – I’ve uploaded 25 images, and a bit more commentary, here, for anyone with a spare couple of minutes.

Finally, I’m aware that the blog entries have ‘backed up’.  Sorry about that, I’ll catch up, albeit somewhat out of order, over the next few days.

A Sunny Morning in the Lake District

Worth the trip?

I think so, despite some flood damage to the car!

Heading for Brown Pike, up the Walna Scar 'Beck'


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Blowing in the Wind

Quite often, at this time of year, we can be found luxuriating near Lymington, doing a bit of bird watching and country walking in view of the Isle of Wight.

The snap of rushes, blowing in the wind, was taken on 27 October 2005.  It seems a distant memory, as we spent today taking Susan to the airport for her flight to Boston, and then catching up with an assortment of ‘house admin’ on an overcast autumn day.

Leaves for tram, slavering at the prospect of a fine Thai meal…

Dunham Massey in Autumn (2)

For Susan’s last day in the UK…

…what better than a trip to Dunham Massey?

Where the Canada Geese were gorging themselves on the half-term holiday offerings, and the beech leaves were turning quite coppery.

A walk around the park saw Sue and Susan admiring the autumn colours.

But the privacy of the rutting deer was respected, and we didn’t get close enough to photograph a fine fellow with his nubile hareem.

Sadly we won’t be consuming any venison tonight, as a ‘third party dietary issue’ has dictated ‘Market Gardener’s Pie’ rather than our more usual carnivorous fare.

I’m sure we’ll survive!

Wednesday 28 October 2009 – A Stroll in the Arnside/Silverdale AONB

Today’s 10 mile stroll with Susan brought us to this point for lunch.  Normally the Lake District’s peaks would be laid out before us, but today we sat on the bench with a couple who had escaped from Windermere.

“Torrential rain and huge traffic jams” they reported.

Susan and I reflected on the luck of our easy journey to Leighton Moss RSPB Reserve, from where this pleasant country stroll had started.

(To be continued.)

Tuesday 27 October 2009 – A Café Somewhere in Wales

They stopped serving at 12.20, so we enjoyed our own butties inside this café with no view.

Outside, the visibility wasn’t much better, but at least Susan could smile from the highest point she will reach on this trip to the UK.

Later, we could look back to the vanquished pimple from which the cloud had now dissipated.

This, That, and The Other

Just a quick entry as life is acceptably busy this week, after a hectic weekend, with Susan over from Connecticut and trying to make the best of our Autumn weather.  More detailed entries will perhaps follow in due course.

This (below) is an image from Saturday afternoon, on the descent to Ingleton from Gragareth, after my six companions for the day had elected to turn back towards our starting point in Dent.

That (above) is Sunday morning’s view south, over fields of the Yorkshire Dales, from near Thwaite Lane – by Clapham, where a group of 24 of us fumbled our way across the moorland, eventually emerging from the road to Ingleborough Cave in rather showery  weather.

The Other recent activity was today’s ascent of The Matterhorn of the Peak – Shutlingsloe, with Susan, who posed on the misty summit with her posh new gaiters before the flask came out.

Next: A visit to a café in Wales?

New Zealand Memories, and Web Site Problems

Sue and I had the pleasure of reliving last year’s New Zealand trip  (still to be indexed) the other day, by way of a slide show to the long term patients and the caring staff of the NHS’s Continuing Care Facility at Dermot Murphy Close.

They all seemed to enjoy it.

Here’s Sue, having climbed through cloud to reach the sunny summit of Conical Hill (1515 metres), just off the Routeburn Track, on 2 February 2008.

I may even have got around to doing that long overdue indexing, had I not discovered that many of the images created in Fireworks for our website had decided not to show on the web browser.  So the nice little buttons I created seven years ago seem to have worn out.  This left the topwalks.com site (which receives 50-100 visitors a day for one reason or another, although the site is only occasionally updated) looking a real mess:

So I’ve spent the last day faffing with it as a temporary measure, pending an upgrade of the index pages – all very tedious when the page loading also failed to work properly, leaving us with lots of blank pages.

If you do have occasion to use that site, and find any glitches, please do let us know!

Tuesday 20 October 2009 – Eel Crag by the Shelf Route with the Knipe Boys

 

The Knipe boys had been planning this walk for some time.  It was their third attempt within a year, and there had been recorded failures spanning several decades.  They had got so close that they’d even renamed Wainwright’s ‘Shelf’  route and called it the ‘Ledge’ route.  They had previously nearly fallen off it. 

What’s easier to fall off?  A Ledge or a Shelf?  I wonder?

Anyway, John’s friends Ian and Brian had been in subconscious telepathic communication with me, and our three strong Essential Support Group assembled at Braithwaite with the two protagonists, Mike and John, who then eagerly led us up Coledale, as shown above.

They were panicking a bit as the weather lady had predicted the tops to be somewhat like Himalayan peaks in a monsoon.

They rushed across the ford at the head of Coledale, whilst I fell in trying to take this picture.

I’ve cropped out most of the blurry, splashy bits and am relieved that the camera seems to have survived its dunking, even if my knee has severe bruising.

Anyway, that slowed me down a bit for the slog up to the Shelf/Ledge via a welcome stop for a hot drink that was needed to wash down Nallo Lady’s CCS.

Soon we were on the Shelf, romping along its grassy flank.  It was here (see below) that John admitted, “We turned around at this point as it seemed too dangerous.”  It’s about 20 metres from there up to the point where the easy (but mildly exposed) Shelf joins the main highway coming from Coledale Hause.

John and I waited, admiring the view (below) back down Coledale, with the (Cole?) mine hidden to the left, Blencathra still clear in the distance, and our descent route to the right.  Mike eventually fought his way up to join us, his vast pie consumption having taken its usual toll on his speed of ascent, and Ian – having admitted to suffering from extreme vertigo – was finally allowed to take off his blindfold.  Meanwhile Brian’s phone had been playing jolly tunes, but he also made it to the ridge.

It was a breeze, then, as opposed to the predicted Himalayan monsoon gale, to reach the summit.

Everyone was very happy. 

Especially Mike and John, who seemed to think they should get some sort of Lifetime Achievement Award.

Then we all trudged off to Sail, Outerside and Barrow (a hill), in continuing fine weather apart from a little drizzle on Barrow, and with even the distant Scafell peaks in good, if grey, view.

Back in the Coledale Inn in Braithwaite the Brothers marveled at their success, and at the (previously hidden) route card that I had managed to produce in anticipation of today’s route.

It had indeed been a grand little stroll, and as I pottered off down to Grasmere for dinner at the Red Lion in the excellent company of Brummie Dave, Connecticut Susan and Wainwright bagging Peewiglet, it never did do anything more than drizzle a bit.

Here’s the 13 km route.  It involves just over 1000 metres ascent and took us about 5½ hours, including stops. (Full route card here.)

In his widely acclaimed illustrated essay: At Last! Eel Crag by The Ledge Route, Mike Knipe provides further insight into the history of today’s attempt and bemoans the fact that his life is ‘now but an empty vessel.....’.

It was a fairly ‘grey’ autumn day, but for anyone interested my full set of 21 images is here.

Dunham Massey in Autumn (1)

Dunham Massey, just ten minutes from home, is our local National Trust property.

It’s particularly convenient to visit at present, and a good place from which to observe the onset of Autumn.

The following snaps were taken on 12 October.