Monday 4 January 2010 – Around Rostherne

A beautiful afternoon found Sue and me braving more icy paths, this time on a short walk around Rostherne.

Parking up at the Swan at Bucklow Hill, we crossed the busy A556 road and headed down Chapel Lane, which proved to be a sheet of ice.  Soon we were able to take to the fields down a pleasant path with frosted grass.

A lovely thatched cottage marks the point where another road is joined.

Short of time, we turned left and stuck to the road to pass Millington Hall on our left, rather than take our usual route past Agden Brook to Booth Bank.

 

There’s a reluctance to allow the local lads to bag rabbits, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today we turned right down Millington Lane and headed back to re-cross the A556 and stroll down the quiet lane – closed for pipe laying – to Rostherne.  On the way a narrow path is worth taking for the views it affords of Rostherne Mere, the largest natural lake in Cheshire at over 100 feet deep, and a haven for wintering birds.

After being hemmed between a barbed wire fence and a bramble hedge it was liberating to rejoin the icy lane and slither along to St Mary’s church, which sports the oldest lychgate in England – dating from 1640.  The church was resplendent in the low afternoon sun.

The churchyard is dotted with tombs of the Egerton family (if you read yesterday’s entry you may recall that they were the owners of the Tatton Estate until it was bequeathed to the National Trust in 1958).

From here we could have returned along the lane directly to Bucklow Hill, but time permitted a diversion through frozen fields of beet, with a flock of fieldfare, to Home Farm, part of the Tatton Park estate.

A wide right of passage had been scoured and fenced off, perhaps for the pipeline, or is a road being built?

After a few metres along the road, a right turn led us back into fields, towards Mere Farm.  The sun went down.

A right turn then took us to a final footpath to the left, across more fields to a small Mere, where a sign written in Polish explained that it was a Private fishing ground for Warrington Anglers.

Then we rejoined the lane to return to the car after this brisk 7 km excursion.  The route is shown below.

Soon after returning home we noticed the first flurries of a snow storm that was to linger over Cheshire for the next 24 hours!

A full slide show (19 images) is here.

Sunday 3 January 2010 – Tatton Park

A lovely sunny day drew us out into the icy wastes of Manchester’s hinterland.  Known as Tatton Park, the venue for today’s slither has a long history, dating back to the bronze age, but more recently involving the bequeath of the Egerton family’s estate to the National Trust in 1958.

As we returned from the east coast yesterday, in interesting conditions involving icy roads and trees heavily laden with snow, a sharp shower of sleet in Manchester had immediately frozen solid, leaving a thin veneer of ice, more or less everywhere.

So we went to the Knutsford entrance to the park, slithered up the west side of the lake, past the Greek temple,

enjoyed coffee and cake in the restaurant, then slithered back along the east side of the lake. 

A swan was sunbathing on the ice.

Attempts to find a short cut back from pleasant woodland to the park entrance failed due to impenetrable marshland, and we emerged eventually near the centre of Knutsford, passing the Ruskin Rooms – an ornate building completed by Richard Harding Watt, an admirer of John Ruskin (1819-1900), in 1902.

A very pleasant 8 km slither on a blue sky day.  A short slideshow is here.

Friday 1 January 2010 – Robin Hood’s Bay

Apologies for the delay in posting. 2010 has started slowly. I blame all those other bloggers whose exploits I’ve spent ages catching up with in preference to banging my own keyboard.

Sue and I enjoyed a glorious technicolour start to the year, popping corks on the beach at Robin Hood’s Bay (RHB) and admiring the fireworks emanating from several competing groups on the beach.

Last time we saw in the New Year here a storm drowned the fireworks, and the electricity.  We have memories of using a fondue set to brew tea on New Year’s Day, as we sat in a cold Loft wrapped in duvets. This year the full moon shone brightly, the fireworks were excellent, and the power remained on, despite a snowstorm at breakfast time.

Sue and I were staying in the Station Waiting Rooms Loft, as guests of Jenny and Richard (aka Night Bird and Birthday Boy). It’s a great spot, at the top of the hill, with views across to Ravenscar.

There’s plenty of room for two, and visitors like us can be housed in  a small cupboard that gets quite warm, especially when Richard turns on the heating all night, as he did on what remained of the night of 31 December.

There’s an increasingly monochromatic theme to a lot of the blog postings that I’ve been catching up on, and so it is here. The breakfast snow stuck to everything, and despite the day remaining largely overcast I took loads of photos, a selection of which can be viewed here.

Anyway, by 11 o’clock we were posing in the snow outside the Loft, and we soon set off along the old railway line to Boggle Hole and beyond. With a streaming cold, a well wrapped head, and a severe dose of lethargy, I was happy to trudge along at the rear whilst Richard took command of the route, a gentle 13 km ‘hike’. [Jenny may take offence if I were to describe it as an ‘amble’, ‘stroll’, ‘potter’, or similar!]

 

 

Everything seemed to be white with traces of grey and black.

Even the beach, though an orange ship on the horizon did provide a narrow slash of colour.

I wore one of my many pairs of leaky boots. They are excellent in the freezing conditions that seem now to have taken a grip on the UK.  Apart from the Hi-Tecs, that fell apart in Silverdale.

Hunger was setting in. I had no food and fell behind. Eventually, perhaps around 2 pm, Richard deigned to call a halt, and the marchers congregated for ‘lunch’. Or was it afternoon tea? Anyway I was handed a large cheese sandwich and a sip of tea. And some shortbread that someone had concealed in my own bag.

The sun even deigned to appear as I chased the others past Colcroft Farm.

Refreshed, I managed to head them back onto the railway line.

Then a short tramp led back to the Loft, and more seasonal indulgences before Sue and I collapsed back into our cupboard.

I’m told that our 13 km route followed the blue line on the following chart, and that it included over 400 metres of ascent.

Here’s the slideshow.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Wednesday 30 December 2009 – A ‘Gray’ Day

It’s a year since we waved Nick off to Shanghai.  Today’s plan to meet him got off to a poor start when Sue’s illness prevented her departure from Timperley, but Nick was ready and waiting by the time I arrived at Leighton Moss RSPB’s skating rink of a car park soon after 9.30.

Another gent wandered (well, slithered) up….

“Hello Martin”

“Hello Mark, good to meet you”

Mark is the author of the excellent ‘Beating the Bounds’ blog and had taken the trouble to come along and say hello.  It’s always good to meet such people who have become ‘on-line friends’ in the flesh, and the three of us (Nick is also familiar with Mark’s writing')  enjoyed a lengthy tea/coffee break in the café, before Mark headed off home to confront some domestic duties.

Nick and I set off along basically the same route that I walked with Susan on 28 October – reported on here and here, in dull, cold weather.  It was not a day for stunning images of Silverdale – you’ll have to visit Mark’s site for those, but we did enjoy a good chat and were able to catch up on the year’s activities.

Lunching on a bench near the summit of Arnside Knott, we were glad we hadn’t attempted anything more ambitious, as the conditions in the Lake District looked as if they may not be so amenable for the ‘cosy chat’ that we were enjoying.

The caravan park at Far Arnside was quite busy with holiday makers as we passed through en route to an alpaca farm, Silverdale village, Woodwell, and the fleshpot known as the Wolf House Gallery.  Their tea and cakes were up to the usual high standard and we enjoyed a long break in the warmth of the café.

Then we braved the full force of the brisk arctic wind for our stroll back to the RSPB car park, arriving well before 4 pm after a very pleasant day’s stroll.  We had been expecting either ‘light rain’ or ‘snow showers’, depending on which forecast we’d looked at.  So we weren’t complaining about the cool east wind that had substituted for these forecasts.

My photos were some of the worst I’ve taken this year, but (mainly for Nick’s benefit) I’ve uploaded them to a slideshow that can be viewed here.

Here’s our route – 17 km, 340 metres of ascent, in around 5 hours including stops.  It was the last trip for my Hi-Tec boots, which effectively fell apart; a review will follow.

That’s it for 2009, this being our 386th and final posting for the year.  Sue and I hope you have enjoyed at least a small fraction of these ramblings and that you will join us again, on-line and/or in the flesh, in 2010.

Wishing you all a happy and healthy, even Adventurous, 2010!

Tuesday 22 December 2009 – A Great British Ridge Walk – Number 3 – Y Garn’s North-East Ridge descending via The Devil’s Kitchen

An easy route from Bill Birkett’s book - ‘Great British Ridge Walks’ provided the inspiration for today’s trip to snowy Wales, triggered by messages from The Pie Man about his Snowdonian ridge walking ambitions. 

I’d forgotten all about the planned walk with Alastair until he called on Monday evening:

“About tomorrow’s walk.  I’m afraid I can’t make it.”

‘Hmmm’ I thought.  ‘The conditions may be interesting, should I go anyway?’

“Why don’t you go anyway?” announced Sue.

No destination had been planned, and I needed to be home before
4 pm, but page 17 of Bill’s book provided a suitable answer, with a walk of only 8-9 km, ascent of around 730 metres, and timing estimated at 4 hours.

So the following morning I brushed the sleep from my eyes, optimistically shoved crampons and ice axe on board, and headed off down the M56. Chester was reached by the time I realised I’d brought no money.  I’d have to drive slowly to preserve fuel, and miss out on a mug of tea at Ogwen Cottage, but my main concern was the state of my low reserves of screen wash, without which driving would be a little difficult!

Anyway, I pressed on and by 9.30 I was staring at this view of the rift directly above Ogwen Cottage.

The slatey shaley rock from this ‘Quarry Canyon’ was taken many years ago for use as a whetstone material for sharpening steel, and on warmer days school children can be found here, learning the rudiments of rock climbing.

It was a delight to hear the creak of fresh snow under my boots.

Above the steps the path flattens out for a while, heading towards a ladder stile that leads to this gentle slope on the approaches to the north east ridge of Y Garn.

Llyn Ogwen comes into view far below, with Lynn Idwal nearby to the left as you ascend.  The going in just a few inches of freshly blown snow was easy.

Soon the steeper slopes of the north east ridge made for slower progress, especially as frequent stops were needed to admire the views.  Around 700 metres the snow was firm enough for crampons to be of benefit, so on they went, for the first time this winter.  I think it was the first time I’d attached them to the leaky old Asolo Fugitives (no chance of a leak in today’s temperatures – the boots were worn for comfort) and they worked perfectly on this walk.

Here’s the view from this spot, which was just below the cloud base.

Then it was a case of sticking to the rocky crest in order to avoid drifted snow on the snow laden route of the normal path.  The views came and went, and whilst there were patches of blue sky there was a fresh breeze which made it hard to distinguish between the swirling cloud and the spindrift.

At the 947 metre summit, the spindrift prevailed…

A pleasant descent started beside the cliffs of Y Garn’s eastern face before turning SSE to emerge from the clag above a familiar looking stile.  Despite there being a few people out today, the fresh dry snow and the mountain breeze conspired to eliminate any sense of a track until The Devil’s Kitchen was reached, revealing a well trodden but very slippery thoroughfare. 

Climbers were playing on the sheets of ice that were draped across the entire Cwm.

I kept the crampons on until below 500 metres, where I stopped for lunch – and their removal – in a calm spot with this fine view across Llyn Idwal to Pen yr Ole Wen.

Following the path below Idwal Slabs, on the east side of Llyn Idwal, there were good, if monochromatic, views of the slabs, and of Tryfan as it slowly crept into view, draped in cloud.

Below Llyn Idwal family parties frolicked in the winter conditions, this chap rather foolishly showing off by wearing shorts.  I was later to hear of men in t-shirts and jeans having been rescued from the nearby slopes of Snowdon.

By the time I’d reached the shores of Llyn Ogwen, Tryfan had freed itself from its shield of cloud.

I’d enjoyed a very leisurely outing in lovely winter conditions (Trekking Britain – you set off in the wrong direction!) and was back at the car well within 4 hours, and back home, after another easy journey, by 3.30, managing somehow to avoid the gridlock in Altrincham caused by the day’s fresh snow.

I took 24 photos, which can be viewed in a slide show here.

Here’s the route – 9 km, 730 metres ascent, in under 4 hours.

Boxing Day – Crampons in Timperley

“I’ll just pop out for the paper” announced mother.

I looked out of the window to see pedestrians negotiating our pavement in the manner of novice skaters at the Silver Blades ice rink.  Except that the fence at the rink is higher than the walls down our road, and it doesn’t have gaps for driveways.

Mother was not permitted, on this occasion, to go through with her death wish.  I would fetch the paper.

This required Special Equipment.  I’m not sure whether the people in the Spar shop appreciated the spikes, but these crampons are rather less aggressive than those used four days earlier (report to follow).  They were however, in truth, more necessary today.

There were very few people about from whom to gain admiring looks, but it should be evident from these pictures that today, for one day only, the most appropriate footwear for the streets of Timperley, flat though they may be, was crampons!  A first.

Dunham Massey in Winter (2)

Firstly, a bit of a Grump.  I hope you don’t mind.  This posting would have been made around noon yesterday (27/12) had my computer not suffered a violent attack from spyware known as ‘Antivirus Live’.  I think it must have arrived from a ‘banner’ on a website I had open at the time.  It completely evaded the ‘Zonealarm Extreme Security’ that I installed after the last, much less invasive, virus attack from ‘Shield Safe’, another evil thing that I removed a few weeks ago with assistance from Darren, Alan and Robert.  It has taken many hours of effort to remove (if only temporarily?) this latest spyware, and it has stretched my computer know how, such as it is, to new limits.

I was going to thank the above-named for their earlier help, and now I do so again, as without that help I wouldn’t have had the confidence to tackle today’s problem.

There is a Lesson to be Learned.  Don’t leave websites that stream advertising ‘banners’ open on the desktop, however reputable the host site may be.

Anyway, back to the intended topic, our Christmas Eve walk.  We were planning to go to Styal, but given the icy conditions, and the presence of an 84 year old in the party, we decided on the flat grounds of Dunham Massey and its surrounds.

So, only four days after our last visit, Sue and I enjoyed the same stroll from Dunham Massey to the Swan with Two Nicks via the Bridgewater Canal, now well frozen and suitable for skating on!

This time we had Jenny (Night Bird) and Dot for company in the snow.

 

Then it was through the meadows to Dunham Massey House,

and on along a familiar circuit around the grounds.

We stopped for mulled wine, shortbread and brownies, of course!

Then paused with many others to admire the fallow deer.

 

The whole route apart from the descent from the canal was safe despite the ice, so we were able to return intact to enjoy our Christmas festivities, passing the usual selection of bird life on the way back to the car park.

For anyone with an obscure fascination for Dunham Massey, Jamie from Trekking Britain went there two days earlier and took these photos.