Monday 1 October 2018 – Another TPT/Cheshire Ring Bike Ride

A more detailed photographic essay of this route is to be found here.

It was another lovely Monday morning. Appropriate to celebrate a few anniversaries together with Sue, Paul, Jeanette and Richard:

15 years since I stopped full time work;
5 years since Paul retired;
11 years and 3069 postings since I started this blog.

Richard hasn’t long retired. It was his prerogative to be confused about the road system between Hale and Timperley, but he turned up eventually. Meanwhile we’d enjoyed a chat in the sunshine. Our slow start set the pace for the day. I normally complete this ride in about 4 hours; today it took us 7 hours!

The conversion of our local office block, Nelson House, into apartments is virtually complete. It looks quite smart in the sunshine.

Commuters were still making their way to work.

We made good progress down the towpath to Stretford, and then along the Trans Pennine Trail (TPT) to Northenden, where Sue turned back to avoid getting lost as she wanted a shorter outing.

The heron that graces the banks of the Mersey in Northenden was eying up the moon today; the remains of the Tatton Arms were looking just a bit more dilapidated.

Here’s the gang (minus Sue, who had returned home) beside the sculpture.

After a tea break by the river, we muddled our way through Stockport and headed to Reddish Vale. I took a wrong turn, heading by mistake through a dark tunnel towards Bredbury. It was down here that Richard picked up a puncture. Looking at the map, I think there may be an acceptable (and slightly shorter) alternative route to the Peak Forest Canal via Bredbury.

Anyway, we returned to the ‘normal’ TPT route and soon reached the canal, which was in better shape than on my last visit, when it looked terribly polluted.  There were a couple of maintenance vehicles of a type I haven’t seen before.

Before reaching Dukinfield we saw a mink on the footpath ahead of us. We were within feet of it as it swam across the canal. I don’t recall having seen one before. We also saw Jays and Herons, and rather noisy Grey Wagtails, amongst the usual common species.

A café that we’d been aiming for at the junction of the Peak Forest and Ashton canals turned out to be closed on Mondays. It took a while to establish that, and Jeanette discovered that it is slow work negotiating steep cobbles in her shoes that appear to have pedals attached to their soles.

A little further on a diversion caused a further delay, exacerbated by my poor map reading, so what with more cobbles on some of the descents beside the locks, it seemed to take ages to reach the Velodrome at the National Cycling Centre. We paused for coffee and cake. Richard had a full meal. ‘Lunch hour’ was exactly that.

Before leaving the Velo’drone we had to admire some of the Manchester bees that are on display here.

I should have dedicated a posting to these bees, but we were busy in the Alps.

On leaving the café, I discovered that my back tyre had a slow puncture, and I didn’t have the correct attachment to my pump. Paul to the rescue. Eventually, after several pumping sessions every few kilometres, we gave up pumping and changed the inner tube – twice, as the first one seemed defective. Luckily I carry two spares. Punctures are common at this time of year when the hawthorn hedges are being trimmed.

Here’s our route – 65 km (normally it’s 60 km) with about 250 metres ascent (ie essentially flat). It took us 7 hours! More for those who had to make the 3 km each way return trip from and to Hale. A very pleasant way to spend the day.

Next Monday: meet under Timperley Bridge at 8.30 for a 70 km ride to Bury then across to Middleton, and back along the Rochdale Canal.

Saturday 29 September 2018 – Wythenshawe parkrun number 358

Our first run for five weeks, and we hadn’t seen Paul and Jeanette for just as long. Jeanette was sporting her new ‘250’ shirt after reaching that target whilst on a visit to Shetland; Paul’s is quite old. They have completed 566 parkruns between them, and their son Greg has managed a further 379.

It was a lovely morning. I jogged a slow first kilometre to warm up, before speeding up to finish in a respectable time, albeit position 83, just ahead of Jeanette, some way behind whom Sue ran in with Cary. She had intended to walk, but her Achilles problem doesn’t seem to have affected her too much today and she enjoyed a chat with Cary.

Results here.

It’s a red letter week for the hall, damaged by fire in March 2016. The bell tower has been repositioned in its rightful place.

Here’s what it looked like immediately after the fire.

So there’s hope for the future behind all that scaffolding. I think the work is supposed to be completed in January 2019.

It’s great to see so many bikes at the parkrun these days. The message really does seem to have got home to a good number of people that parking is limited and cycling to the event is the perfect way to digest your breakfast on a Saturday morning.

We were also pleased to see that there’s a new, more convenient for us, run at Orleans in Ottawa, where friends took part in the inaugural run on Saturday. We look forward to joining them on our next visit. 38 people took part, which is encouraging.

Summer in the Alps - 2018

This is part of a regular Wednesday evening programme for Stockport Walking and Outdoor Group.

All are welcome on this or any other Wednesday.

Many thanks to all 35 or so who filled the room and made the effort of producing the slideshow so soon after we had returned from the trip worthwhile.

Friday 28 September 2018 – A Bike Ride to Bury

On another lovely sunny morning I set off soon after Sue had pedalled off to work, on an experimental route involving a visit to Bury, then across to the Rochdale Canal in Middleton, and back home along the towpaths.

On the way to Waters Meet my leisurely pace saw whizzing commuters passing in both directions whilst I dodged the overhanging willow trees and admired reflections on the glassy surface in the bright morning light.

Crossing to the Rochdale link of the Bridgewater Canal (via the distant bridge in the photo above), I passed the jumble of construction work at Pomona Dock where the Trafford Centre Metrolink line is being constructed.

A tram rumbled along towards Pomona station.

Approaching Castlefield Basin, I located Regent Bridge and National Cycle Trail number 6. I was to follow this trail all the way to Bury, initially beside roads as the route passed the building sites of Salford, seen here on Adelphi Street.

I’ll try a different route next time, taking advantage of some paths by the River Irwell rather than the roads chosen by route 6.

Beyond Agecroft Bridge, constructed in 1892 by Manchester Corporation to carry water pipes from the Lake District, the route entered pleasant woodland and passed through an area of historic industrial archaeology. This totem pole is one of the Irwell Sculpture Trail exhibits.

The route is well signposted. There are lots of parks around here.

Having said that, it’s unclear as to whether to go under this bridge or go off to the right. Either route leads to the continuation of route 6 on the top of the bridge.

Another sculpture was passed. Some correspondents have been critical of the perceived paucity of sculptures along the Irwell Sculpture Trail. It’s a long trail, and the exhibits comprise industrial artefacts placed at wide intervals.

A fairly lengthy section of woodland made for easy, enjoyable riding. I met a policewoman on a horse, but nobody else.

The final section into Bury was beside the Manchester Bolton & Bury Canal, a disused canal built in 1808 to link Bolton and Bury with Manchester. The canal, when fully opened, was 15 miles long and was accessed via a junction with the River Irwell in Salford.

The next picture is of the Rochdale Canal in Middleton. I took no intervening photos as I wrestled my way across the grain of the transport arteries.

After 30km I stopped to take advantage of my flask and banana in a small park by Wellington Road. I then headed along Gigg Lane towards Pilsworth. What looked like a good route beyond Brick House turned out to be a horrible path outside the boundary of a golf course where visitors on cycles were not welcomed.

So my next attempt at this route will take a more northerly direction along tracks and roads that look more favourable.

On this occasion I headed south through Unsworth and across the M66 to another golf course dead end. Later, a good path around the northern perimeter of Heaton Park led to a footbridge over the M60. What appeared to be a white road beyond the little used footbridge turned out to be a farmer’s field.

Retracing again, I made my way successfully through Simister and past The Same Yet pub that I used to visit regularly when living in Blackley, to Middleton and the Rochdale Canal.

Navigation was no longer a problem. Just stick to the towpath apart from a short section in the gay village in Manchester, where the road next to the canal needs to be taken. There are some sections that go under buildings in the city centre, but the canal goes through pleasant countryside even in places like Chadderton.

Large flocks of Canada Geese rule the roost in these parts. In the Miles Platting area a short section of canal has been drained. It’s quite a mess.

Eventually the Castlefield Basin was reached. Anyone coming this way for the first time could be confused by the canal network here. You come across the Merchants’ Bridge pictured below, then double back to the left of the picture.

It was still a lovely day and a delight to be outdoors on this gentle ride. The route should have been about 70km, but I actually rode for 80km. If you look closely at the map below you might just spot a couple of significant ‘there and back’ incidents between Bury and Middleton. Considering the length of the route, the ascent data of about 400 metres really indicates a basically flat route. In fact it’s all downhill from Middleton. It took me a most enjoyable six hours.

Mike Collier (1947 to 2018)

Yesterday, 26 September 2018, was the happy occasion of my granddaughter Jessica’s fifth birthday. Sadly it was also the occasion of Mike Collier’s funeral.

The above picture shows Mike, on the right, with a group of friends, at Sue’s parents’ house in Tenbury Wells on a visit in the early 1970s. Five of those in the photo were at the funeral, and it was great to see Sue (far left) again after many years.

Mike’s send off was a moving occasion and included a lovely remembrance of Mike’s life composed by Linda. He was “a loving husband, father, thinker, gentle-man”, and for someone who didn’t put himself about – apart from his rapport with the local cat population – the full chapel spoke for itself.

A good man in both his home and his professional life. Our thoughts are with Linda, Andrew, David, Winnie and the rest of the family.

Cary’s Final Munro, or two – plus a Corbett

Friday 21 September 2018

Claire from SWOG arrived on time at 1 pm for her lift up to Callander with me and Sue. Luckily the Skoda’s coolant remained where it should be. We refuelled at Tesco in Carlisle, where two pots of tea and a slice of Victoria sponge cost about the same as a Swiss cup of coffee.

Arriving at the Trossachs Tryst bunkhouse at 6 pm, we dumped our bags and set out for dinner at the nearby Lode Inn at Kilmahog. Luckily Sue and I were the only people stupid enough to walk to the pub, where an immediate choice of food was needed as they were expecting a group of 30 a bit later and they couldn’t accommodate a further nine at the same time. So Nigel kindly zoomed back down the road and picked us up. But not before we had savoured the delightful evening light in the direction of Ben Ledi.

The fish and chips were great, and others enjoyed their haggis. (Haggi!)

Meanwhile, back at base, a selection of folk were arriving to celebrate Cary’s final Munro, to be tackled the following day.

Saturday 22 September 2018

It soon became apparent that this was not to be a ‘normal’ (in my experience) final Munro outing. For a start, Cary was starting with another hill, the Corbett – Beinn Each (813 metres) – by way of a warm up for climbing Stuc a’Chroin, a Munro. That was to be Cary’s penultimate Munro. His final Munro was to be Ben Vorlich, a hill that towers above Lochearnhead.

‘Normal’ would comprise everyone accompanying Cary on a fairly easy walk to the top of the final Munro, whence a party involving champagne and cake and lots more would take place. Today just 13 of Cary’s guests saw fit to set out with him, a further 8 taking their own easy route up Ben Vorlich. Others seemed unaware of the etiquette and failed to take part in very much at all, though Sue and Jeff did find a parkrun.

It was a lovely day spiced with occasional rainbow illuminated showers. Had we not been driving in convoy to start the walk at NN 582 136 at around 8.50, we would have been tempted to pause at the head of Loch Lubnaig to admire some magical reflections in the loch.

Eyebright and Tormentil were hanging on with Buttercups and Lady’s Mantle to provide a bit of colour to supplement the various shades of brown adopted by the season’s fungi.

Mark chose a fine position on the summit of Beinn Each from which to savour his customary snooze.

After the easy path up Beinn Each, the route got rougher. Had Phil continued, the planned rendezvous on Ben Vorlich would have been delayed. So he headed down with Shirley, leaving their boys in Cary’s tender care.

So just 12 of us made our way to the summit of Stuc a’Chroin (975 metres), where Mark enjoyed another brief snooze. Others present were Sue, Helen and Harvey, Graham B, the boys – Jonathan and Michael, and Cary’s friends Andrew, Arthur and Pete. We lazed here for some time as we were ahead of schedule. A large herd of red deer was observed far below, but no ptarmigan were seen today, although a hare or two may have been glimpsed, and there were plenty of crows/ravens in attendance.

With Ben Vorlich lurking in the distance beyond a precipitous drop, there was still some way to go.

In view of the potentially tricky descent from this summit towards Ben Vorlich, Cary dutifully looked after the boys by following me around an alternative and much less exposed route to the north. Six of the party took the exposed path, which would be easy in ascent, and the six of us who took the alternative longer but quicker path arrived back at the ridge just as the others reached the same point.

The final ascent to Ben Vorlich was straightforward. Nigel, a Munroist himself, had successfully guided his team of eight to the summit well in advance of the 2.45 rendezvous, and everyone was in position with their walking poles raised in honour of Cary as he lumbered into view at around 2.30.

There was a fine view back to Stuc a’Chroin, from which the precipitous descent is shown just to the left of Sue’s head in the next picture.

We spent some time in a sheltered spot below the subsidiary summit, but eventually the sound of clinking wine glasses in Callander drew us towards the easy stroll back down to Loch Earn.

Sue and I had provided shortbread and cake, but apart from that this was a bizarrely teetotal and scantly catered party despite conditions being more suited to a summit party than on many of the ‘final Munro’ bashes I’ve had the honour of attending.

Pleasant woodland accompanied us at the end of the day.

No worries though. Cary had organised a party at the bunkhouse later, so once we got back we could imbibe to our heart’s content in the warmth of our home for the weekend. Tea, beer, wine, and lots of tasty food and desserts. The cake, sadly not captured on film by me, was a luxurious affair courtesy of Cary’s daughter, Clara, who wasn’t present to receive the accolades attributed to said monstrosity magnificent construction.

The evening concluded with bizarre party ‘games?’ suited to infantile children. This bemused a minority who looked on in puzzlement.

Today’s walk turned out to be about 16 km in length, with around 1300 metres ascent, taking about 8 hours. A fine route. Well done, Cary.

Sunday 23 September 2018

Ground mist soon cleared. There would have been great early morning inversions from higher up. It was a lovely day for a walk, so something of a puzzle that so far as I’m aware only nine of the thirty of us actually went for a proper walk. Graham and Anne headed up a Corbett, and seven of us, me, Sue, Helen, Claire, Harvey, Arthur and Pete parked up at Lochearnhead and headed up Glen Kendrum towards the two Corbetts – Meall an t-Seallaidh and Creag MacRanaich. The plan had been to go up both of them, but I’d underestimated the time that would take. By the time we reached the col between the two hills, all on a good track, we had already covered 8 km.

Another 2 km took us over rough ground with a vague path, to the summit of Meall an t-Seallaidh (852 metres). The summit is at the far end of a broad ridge.

A leisurely stop for lunch in the lee of the cool breeze, with fine views towards the previous day’s route, was savoured by all of us. Had Mark been there he might even have admired the view from his position of slumber.

The trig point formed a good ‘tripod’ from which to record everyone in today’s team.

Cloud formations enhanced the view to Loch Earn, where sailing boats were enjoying the breeze.

By the time we got going again and regained the col between the two hills, after meeting the only two people we encountered all day, a lone greybeard and a young lady in yellow, it was 2 pm. Arthur and Pete had to be down by 5 pm in order to get their lift to Glasgow Airport. Going up Creag MacRanaich and getting back to Lochearnhead by 5 was possible, but may be excessively energetic, and Sue, Claire and I would get home late. So we all took the sensible decision to leave the second hill for another time and descend at a leisurely pace. The views would have been similar, and our approach meant that we could enjoy a half hour break a couple of kilometres down the track, which we retraced all the way back to the car park.

There were superb views across the Glen to yesterday’s three hills, seen here lined up on the horizon.

Harvey, Claire and Helen also stopped to collect fruit from a tree laden with sloes.

We were back in Lochearnhead, absorbing the aroma of freshly cut grass on a fine late summer’s day, at about 4.30, where Arthur and Pete’s lift was waiting for them. We had walked over 19 km, with 800 metres ascent, in about 6.5 hours, rather further than the previous day. There were no recriminations about missing out the second hill.

Helen and Harvey were reunited with their bicycles at the bunkhouse, from where they were to move to a B&B before cycling back to Glasgow the following day to get the train home. Then Sue, Claire and I admired the harvest moon as it rose whilst we travelled south in the gathering gloom, stopping at Annandale services for a McDonalds supper whilst watching the local swans, ducks and heron prepare for a cool night outside.

We were home soon after 10 pm after taking the Warburton Bridge (no toll at this time of night) route as the M60 was shut.

Altogether, a thoroughly enjoyable weekend. Thanks go to Cary, and his able assistants – Penny and Rowena – for organising it so efficiently.

There’s a slideshow, 85 images, here. It’s the first time I’ve used Flickr for this purpose and I can’t work out how to display captions. Maybe I will have done so by the time you read this…(I can’t currently get this to work at all.)
[Some guidance on how to display a full screen, with captions, would be appreciated. Or even how to produce a slideshow of any sort now Picasa is defunct.]