Wednesday 20 October 2010 – Lindow Moss Revisited (Twice!)

The evening walks that Sue and I so conscientiously plan do have a tendency to creep up on us.

It’s a couple of years since we did this particular walk, so I’d forgotten the route.  I’d forgotten that we had done it before!  A recce was in order, as I had no desire to get misplaced on Lindow Moss.

So, in the morning I set off on what I quickly realised was a familiar circuit.  It was a lovely autumn day – I envied the friends who were spending a day in the Lake District, but I was pleased to be out in the fresh air, feeling reasonably healthy.

The hour passed quickly despite frequent pauses for snapshots.

The last time I walked this route in daylight was on 11 November 2008 – I wrote about it here – on another sunny day, but autumn was decidedly more advanced on that occasion.

I still wished I’d brought some gloves!

Recce done, I went home for lunch, then after tea I dragged Sue, exhausted from a hard day at the soon to be culled labour camp, back to the Boddington Arms, where fellow TGO Challenger Graham Brookes was lying in wait over a half of bitter.  A text message provided the excuse from another regular “safely back in Kat, back home Sun, in time to see City thrash Ars”, whilst others had called in “too tired”.

So the three of us enjoyed a moonlit stroll around the same 3 mile circuit.  It’s different at night.  There are fewer dog walkers.  Black Lake really is pretty black.  Tawny Owls are quite vociferous with their ‘tuwit, tuwoo’ calls.  Wood Pigeons clatter noisily from branch to branch.  A few stars are visible, despite the ambient light and the bright moon, with the ‘plough’ being easily identified. The puddles that are easily avoided in daylight become man traps. 

Déjà vu.  13 November 2008.

Having already reported twice on this walk, and having provided various references to both the route description and the ‘The Bodies in the Bog’ (Lindow Man), I’ll leave you now with just a few images from the morning’s stroll under a cold blue sky.

A path from the car park by the main road, next to the Boddington Arms, leads directly onto Lindow Common.

Paths criss-cross the common, but we make a bee line for Black Lake, where mallards rule the roost today.

Leaving the Common, after crossing Racecourse Road and bounding down Lindow Lane, we turn left down Rotherwood Road.

Doubling back along Moor Lane, roses grace the hedgerow, even in mid-October.

A carrion crow lurks above, eagerly scanning the scene for titbits.

The tarmac ends, and a field path leads past mole hills and through a kissing gate to another world.

It’s the peat bog – Lindow Moss.  Peat is cut here for domestic garden use.  This scene from the raised pathway through the Moss shows where Lindow Woman and Lindow Man (the Bodies in the Bog) were found in 1983.

After only about ten minutes, a footbridge provides means of release from the unexpected landscape, back onto a country lane and past an old sandpit that is now a giant aquarium (Rossmere Lake).

Newgate Lane now leads gently back to Lindow Common and the car park, to conclude this gentle outing.

Tuesday 19 October 2010 - A Great British Ridge Walk - Number 19 – The High Ridges around Coledale

By way of a change, I set off alone at 10 am this morning, on this meander around Coledale.

Well, I was walking alone, but there were plenty of people to chat to – I must have seen getting on for 100 folk on these hills today.

Luckily, the weather had improved as I headed north up the M6, though as I set off from the parking place in the old quarry by the side of the Whinlatter Pass road (NY 227 237) a brief shower summoned the waterproofs for the first time for a while.

I was soon up Kinn, and reached the top of the pyramid known as Grisedale Pike in good time.  It was swathed in light cloud right on the summit, whereas Skiddaw was pretty much engulfed in cloud until mid afternoon.

After negotiating the bump of Hobcarton Head I strayed from the purist’s route around Coledale to take in Hopegill Head, from where a couple of folk were making hard work of the slither down to Ladyside Pike.  Turning my back on them, I nipped over Sand Hill and down to Coledale Hause, with lovely views towards Buttermere over sunlit Sail Beck.

Forsaking the windy Hause in favour of the direct ascent of Eel Crag, I soon reached the point where the ‘shelf route’ that I enjoyed almost exactly a year ago joins the prow of the mountain for the easy plod up to the substantial cairn that marks the highest point of today’s walk, Crag Hill (839 metres).

The views were atmospheric and delightful, with sunshine accentuating the bright green of the lush fields far below.

Rain was never far away – it is pushing in to the left of the picture below – but luckily I dodged it today.

I made quick progress over Sail and enjoyed lunch with the view above, before heading on to the summit of Scar Crags, from where Derwent Water glistened beyond more sunlit fields.

The path headed gently on to Causey Pike, from where a scrambly descent led to my final summit of the day, Rowling End, with this birds eye view into the valley below.

The steep descent to Stoneycroft over greasy rock was followed by a short road walk, then a lovely path beside a forest that dropped me back into Braithwaite well before 3 pm.

Here’s today’s route – 15km, with about 1300 metres ascent, taking a shade under 5 hours at a fairly brisk pace.

A slide show will follow if I get around to it, but there may be a short hiatus whilst the computer goes in for repair.

Today’s walk traversed 6 Wainwrights, 11 Birketts (they are great to ‘bag’, aren’t they!) and just one Marilyn – interestingly Grisedale Pike, not the higher summit of Crag Hill.  It’s a lovely round, always enjoyable.

16/17 October 2010 - A Weekend in Onich

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny.  Our B&B, Cuilcheanna House, provided an excellent breakfast.  Thank you Kirstie.

By 9.30 we had met up with friends staying in the Alex McIntyre Memorial Hut, and were marching up Gleann an Fhiodh with Martin S, Graeme and Alastair.

Everyone was very jolly.  It was a perfect day for a long walk in the Highlands.

After elevenses, with brownies and CCS both on offer, Martin S said his goodbyes and toddled off to bag a couple of Grahams – Sgorr a’ Choise and Meall Mor.  By coincidence he met Kirstie whilst descending from Meall Mor.

 

Meanwhile, others in the group may have encountered Gibson, proprietor of ‘Afoot in the Hills’ on Beinn na Caillich, across Loch Leven, where I enjoyed a fabulous wild camp back in May.  Gibson has some nice images from the same day, on which we may appear as pinpricks, here.

Views across the Mamores and over to Glencoe opened magically behind us as we mounted the long grassy slopes of Fraochaidh, accompanied by newly arrived migrant birds, perhaps Fieldfare or Redwing, and the roar of distant stags.

It took us 4½ hours to reach the summit, where we met the only other person seen all day.  He kindly photographed us by the cairn.

The views were superb, with the Rum Corbetts and the distinctive profile of the island of Eigg clearly visible some 50 miles distant. The view down Loch Linnhe to Ben More on the island of Mull is shown at the head of this posting.

With the sun on our backs, the leisurely descent was a delight, with the Pap of Glencoe gradually reasserting its dominance in our viewfinders as more distant hills receded behind the foreground.

This tree caught the last rays of the sun before we descended into the shade of the Glen.

Autumn is noticeably much further advanced up here than it is at home.

Here’s our ‘there and back’ route – about 20km, with 1250 metres ascent.  It took us around 7½ hours, including some lengthy breaks.

Martin S kindly collected us just as the last colours from the sunset reached Cuilcheanna, and we enjoyed a sociable evening with the XXL club members in the Memorial Hut, before a late night stumble back to our B&B.

Sunday was overcast, cloudy and mizzly, so we said our goodbyes and returned home via Oban.

A slide show covering the whole weekend (our rainy Sunday may make some folk feel a bit better!) is here.

Thanks for your company, XXLers; we look forward to joining you again soon.

Saturday afternoon on Fraochaidh (879 metres)

Another fantastic day in the hills, with superb views down Loch Linnhe. Here, Sue, Alastair and Graeme pose on the warm, sunny summit, with the Glencoe peaks behind, and extensive vistas in all directions.

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Tuesday 12 October 2010 - A Great British Ridge Walk - Number 23 – A Deepdale Circuit – Fairfield via Birks and St Sunday Crag and descent via Hart Crag and the Hartsop above How Ridge

Rick and Stuart, both recently retired from their all consuming careers, are enjoying regular walks in the Lake District.  They are following routes described in Bill Birkett’s brilliant work, ‘Complete Lakeland Fells’.  Today’s choice was ‘FAR 1’ – the Deepdale Horseshoe in an anti-clockwise direction, whereas Bill’s ‘Great British Ridge Walk No 23’ covers almost the same ground in the opposite direction.  Our chosen route actually included a couple of tops (‘Birketts’) not incorporated in route 23.

Descending from Kirkstone Pass towards Ullswater, we came upon a cloud inversion that saw us starting off from the Patterdale Hotel at 9.45am in mist.

In his youth, Rick was a class act on the running track.  He had forgotten that this was not a contest and set off at a burning pace up Arnison Crag.  This didn’t last – we took nearly 2.5 hours longer than Bill’s 5.25 hour estimate for this walk.

Our early speed did however extract us quickly from the mist, which continued to blanket Ullswater for most of the day.  Here, Rick and Stuart approach the 433 metre (1422 ft) summit of Arnison Crag.

It was truly wonderful, with blue skies above and mist lingering in the valleys on this windless day.  We were soon down to t-shirts for the lumpy path to Trough Head and the subsequent steep ascent to our second summit, Birks – 622 metres (2040 ft).

Hand towels would have been welcome – we were all dripping in the heat.  Luckily the gradient eased as we continued towards our third and fourth summits, Gavel Pike – 784 metres (2572 ft) – on the left – and St Sunday Crag – 841 metres (2758 ft) – centre.

Mist over Ullswater and to the east gave head-turning views, so we made slow progress.  Strange that the mist-shrouded views seemed more eye-catching than the normal views in which the lakes and valleys would be visible.

Once on the main trod from Grisedale we encountered quite a few folk on St Sunday Crag, beyond which we enjoyed a leisurely lunch amongst some kamikaze, non-biting flies.  Grisedale Tarn now lay ahead, with the Helvellyn massif to our right.  Beyond, Seat Sandal and the high peaks of the Lake District, with the distinctive bobble of Great Gable on the far horizon (to the right of the image below).

I’ve discovered that I was here 25 years ago to the day, on a Helvellyn/St Sunday Crag round from Patterdale.  Apparently I was too tired to go up Fairfield on that occasion!

After encountering a large group we enjoyed the scrambly (direct) ascent of our fifth summit, Cofa Pike – 823 metres (2700 ft).  Views opened out in the dazzling sunlight.  We spent some time with the 1:40,000 BMC map laid out before us, identifying hills far and wide – as wide as Grisedale Pike, anyway.

A short final scramble took us directly to the summit, our sixth, of Fairfield – 873 metres (2863 ft).

This was the high point of the day in more ways than one.  The Coniston hills were revealed in the distance, their upper reaches shimmering in the sunshine whilst mist concealed their base.  The lakes of Coniston and Windermere languished below, partly obscured by a thin veneer of mist. (See link to slide show below.)

There were now quite a few folk around.  Everyone was chatty and jolly.  It was that sort of day.  Between Fairfield and our seventh summit, Hart Crag – 822 metres (2698 ft), our ‘Deepdale Horseshoe’ route coincided with the ‘Fairfield Horseshoe’, a route from Ambleside.  So it’s a path I know well, but I don’t remember having enjoyed such stunning weather up here.

We lingered on Hart Crag, reluctant to lose a significant portion of the view.

Eventually we turned ENE with the sun on our backs and set our sights on the Hartsop above How Ridge, with Place Fell and the summits of High Street laid out in the distance.

Gill Crag, on the Hartsop above How Ridge, 582 metres (1909 ft), our eighth summit, provided an excellent spot to drain our flasks and finish the shortbread.

Further on, we hardly noticed the ninth and final lump on our route, Gale Crag, 512 metres (1680 ft).  There was lots of this [subsequently identified] Fir Clubmoss (Huperzia selago), looking very healthy on the Hartsop slopes.

The day’s heat had finally dispersed the mist, but the low sun provided a lovely mellow light for the rest of our descent to Patterdale.  We really didn’t want to finish this walk, but we had to get home at some point, unlike the gent we had met on Hart Crag who was sensibly planning to stay high and camp at Grisedale Tarn.

However, we couldn’t resist a pint of nectar before leaving…

…we didn’t encounter any traffic problems – the ‘rush hour’ was long gone.

A slide show (55 images) is here.

The day’s route, executed exactly as suggested by Bill Birkett in his ‘FAR 1’ route, is shown below.  It was about 15km with 1100 metres ascent and took 7.5 hours – a very leisurely pace was adopted once we had burst out of the mist into the sunshine above Patterdale.

Here is another link to Bill’s book, and to the accompanying and very worthwhile almanac.

Arnison Crag

There's a stunning view from Arnison Crag this morning...

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Sunday 10 October 2010 - The Calderdale Mountain Bike Marathon

This year Robert’s foot prevented his continuing efforts to finish this annual event in under three hours, so it was just Alastair and I (the former after a break of six years) who started on a sunny Sunday morning from near the hamlet of Sowerby Bridge.

It seemed very crowded at the start, but there were actually fewer people than in the previous two years.

It was a lovely day, but difficult to concentrate on that fact as we pedaled along, often in single file down muddy tracks.  It was indeed muddy, but not as excessively so as in some earlier years, when it has been virtually impossible to pedal over Midgley Moor in particular.  This year I seemed to have retained some bike fitness from August’s Transalp trip, so I only needed to push at one point – the short ascent up to the Midgley Moor track – though others seemed to be doing a lot of pushing hereabouts.  It was a bit sticky.

I’d stayed near Al and waited for him at the food and drink stations until about 15+ miles, so could have gone faster, but still managed a respectable 3 hours 18 minutes, only just outside my previous best.  Al came in a bit later in 3 hours 29 minutes, but that was a pretty good personal best considering he does very little cycling.  Our bikes were two of very few without suspension – I certainly saw no others at the finish – and we probably lost about ten minutes to those who could descend more safely at a fast speed.  But we did our best and enjoyed the morning.

The rocky descent to Mytholmroyd was more enjoyable this year as more people were cycling it, though some were presenting obstacles to be cycled around!

Here’s the scene at the finish.

And here’s Alastair coming in 201st out of 325 finishers.

The winner took an impressive 1 hour 58 minutes, and another 172 folk finished before I did. The last person finished in 6 hours 3 minutes, long after we’d returned home to our hot baths.

I took a camera but failed to get it out en route, though one of the photographers on Midgley Moor should have a good shot of my bike rearing up behind me as I lost concentration (the photographer put me off) and narrowly avoided a nose dive into a deep bog! 

A very jolly event, well organised and supported, and really enjoyable on a sunny day like this one.  Excellent.

Next year’s event is on 9 October 2011. 
This year’s results are here. 

To view all four of my reports on the event (since 2007) and for full route details, click here.

Saturday 9 October 2010 – Oscar visits the Bridgewater Canal

Oscar is growing up.  Today he managed the three mile walk from Sale Water Park to Timperley.

Unfortunately he fell into the canal.

He survived the ordeal, but we found it so hilarious that we failed to record the incident on ‘film’.

Friday 8 October 2010 - A Pootle along The Limestone Way

Rick and I spent nearly two hours in the car, reaching Bank Top camp site at Fenny Bentley on time at 9.30. 

Here we joined JJ, “Millie” (aka Gill), Viv and Mick, who had all set off along The Limestone Way, starting in Rocester, on Thursday afternoon.

We enjoyed a very leisurely stroll, involving a long tea break at Tissington, a long lunch in a pleasant meadow, and extensive views of a Peak District rather gloomier atmospherically than it had been a couple of days earlier. [A full report on that will follow.]

Our peaceful amble was jolted out of Lassitude when Gayle leapt over a stile from the direction of Grangemill.  Having worked all week, she was exhibiting ‘Saturday morning syndrome’, bouncing around like a demented hairdresser.

Nevertheless, a shortcut was required in order to reach the Miners  Standard at Winster by 4.45pm.  This was fortunate for me, enabling a return home to Timperley in time to change for dinner!

Gayle’s take on the day is here.

My photos, for what they are worth, are here.

And the 21 km route, with 650 metres ascent, taking us a very leisurely 6.8 hours (well, most participants had large packs and encountered much difficulty with the many stiles, and the queues to pass through them created by our large group of seven meant that we took ‘ages’).

Thor’s Cave

This cave was created over thousands of years by the effects of water and wind on the limestone rocks formed from layers of dead marine animals between 280 and 360 million years ago. The area was submerged under a shallow, warm sea near the equator, and the hill would have been like a tropical reef.

The name may be a corruption of ‘tors’ (meaning hills), or it may come from Thor, the Norse god of thunder.

Around 20,000 years ago the huge cavern would have been used for shelter by both humans and animals.  Bones of bears and giant red deer have been found in the area, and Thor’s Cave is the site of a Bronze Age Burial.

Sue and I visited it yesterday.

Saturday/Sunday 2-3 October 2010 – A Visit to Ironbridge and The Wrekin

Ten of us assembled in The Swan in Ironbridge on Friday evening before adjourning to GS’s range of accommodations, carefully selected from his Observer’s Book of Fawlty Towers.

Saturday morning found us joined by Keith and Carol and lingering at the old iron bridge, with Tove visiting a local café to purchase the continental breakfast that the Robin ‘Music til Late’ Hood* was unable to supply.  It seems that in the absence of a chef, breakfast there had been cooked by the cleaner.  Perhaps the chef had been one of those making merry until 4am in the room below the B&B accommodation.

Those of us staying at the Bird in Hand had been relieved to find that its 12noon to 10.30pm opening hours were strictly observed…

 

Here’s the route we embarked upon after a photocall in the sunshine.  It was 22km, with over 500 metres ascent, taking around 7 hours.

Shortly after gaining the thick woodland that seems abundant in the Ironbridge Gorge, we came across this enticing sign.

We strolled by museums – there are lots around here – and over chicken wired duck boards, up and down ladders, along grassy paths strewn with conkers, and past some of Telford’s numerous lakes.

A short loop took us through the church yard at Holy Trinity Church in Dawley, a parish in which my grandfather was vicar, before the new town of Telford was even a planner’s dream.

It was hot.  Chocolate caramel shortbread and apple and raisin cake were washed down with tea and coffee.

We passed close by Telford Town Centre.  It appeared to be inhabited by Old Mother Hubbard and some dinosaurs.  We, of course, boosted the dinosaur population.

A brief pause from walking found us transfixed for a while by a magical performance from The Invisible Shakespeare Company.  The audience was sparse, but it was fair value for the price.

Further on, not far from Blists Hill Museum, the All Nations Inn provided welcome sustenance by way of some local beers and a black pudding, cheese and onion buttie for Keith.

The beers had a particularly drastic effect on one of our party, who later hastened across the widest level crossing in Britain without realising that the risk of being hit by a train was relatively low.

First aid kits were deployed for the second time in six days, but Graham’s was, luckily, only a flesh wound.

How things change!  I used to come train spotting here!

There are more pictures here.  Or you could wait until the end…

Our day concluded at the Swan, where a reasonable meal was served, though the residents at the Robin Hood were entertained by juke box bandits until ‘late’ – or should that read ‘early’?

Sunday

Rain hammered down on the thin roof of our penthouse suite.  It was indeed an extremely wet day.  A shame for Robin and Jenny, who had joined us only the previous evening.

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.

After which the rain was still hammering down.

So whilst half the party had urgent hill-bagging appointments, the remaining seven of us chose to visit the Tile Museum.

Very interesting it was too.

Here are some exhibits – above, a typical butcher’s shop; below, a typical fireplace for a ‘modern home’ of the 1930’s.

I know such fireplaces were still being made in the mid 1960’s, as the memory of carrying them from delivery lorries to the living rooms of Harry Peacock’s lovely new houses is still scarred on what remains of my brain.

They were Heavy.  But not as hot as the bags of cement, fresh from the cement factory, which had to be carried up to a small shed on the top of a hill in a pre-re-enactment of Sean Connery’s performance in ‘The Hill’.  We student workers got all the best jobs in those days!

We spun out the tour of the museum, and a compulsory visit to its coffee shop, until lunch time.

It was still raining, but our resident medic, after holding a brief surgery, prescribed fresh air.  So we went up a nearby hillock known as the Wrekin. 

Here’s our route – 5km, over 250 metres ascent, in 1.5 hours.

My father used to take us up here every Christmas morning for a number of years in the 1950’s.  It hasn’t really changed much since then, but today’s views were less than inspiring.

Even when the rain stopped there was little visibility, and Jenny never did make it to the summit, having become tragically misplaced en route.  She concealed her disappointment well, and was consoled by luckily encountering us at a random point on the descent.

So by the time this photo was taken our 14 strong band was down to 4 plus the photographer (self timing proved impossible due to the camera blowing away), 7 having gone bagging, Jenny having got lost, and Robin having wandered off into the mist.

Here’s the view on a day with slightly better visibility in the direction of Snowdon, a pimple on the horizon some 71 miles distant.

So, another jolly weekend was over (not so jolly for those kept awake by the antics of the Robin Hood’s clientele), and everyone dispersed, with Blackpool and Manchester City supporters in nearly as euphoric moods as the European Ryder Cup golfing team.

In case you didn’t click on the earlier link, there’s a slide show of the weekend’s photos here, if anyone is interested. 

The weekend wasn’t over for everyone.  There is now a short postscript of three final images provided by our illustrious hill-bagging department, who report as follows:

“Not a good menu choice for us….car got stuck in a flooded stream. Needed a tractor to pull us out. There was water up to the gear stick... see if you can see the hidden sign saying ford / unsuitable for motors…they say things go in threes – no sleep in the pub, smashed up leg, flooded car…hope that’s the lot for now!”

At least there were no ripped hands on barbed wire fences, though I suppose that’s of little comfort just now…

* I suppose you could always be the first to record your experiences at The Robin Hood on the proliferation of pub ‘appreciation’ websites.