Monday 14 April 2008 - Familiar Ground

Flinging the blinds open to a bright sunny day after overnight showers, we were energised into a 9-o-clock start up Beinn Alligin. Here's the view from outside Annat Lodge.

All apart from Notchy, that is. He set off on a 24km circumnavigation of Beinn Damh.

Beinn Alligin is a favourite hill of mine.

Familiar Ground.

Today we ascended into Coir' nan Laogh rather than start over the Horns. Above 600 metres it was a simple snow plod up the coire to the summit.

Fabulous views greeted us - back to Liathach and Beinn Eighe and the rest of the Torridon peaks.

Only now did we need a windproof shell on this fine, calm day.
There was nobody else on the hill - we have now spent two days walking without seeing another soul.
After a slightly tricky descent down terraces covered with unstable snow, we rose easily past the spectacular Eag Dubh cleft to the even more splendid viewpoint at 986 metres - Sgurr Mhor, with a fine view to the Horns, with Beinn Dearg beyond.

Snow clad peaks were arrayed in all directions, from the Cuillins of Skye to Eastern summits, with the Fisherfield Forest and An Teallach prominent to the North.

None of us fancied the scramble over the Horns of Alligin - given the looseness of the snow on the rocks, so we descended a huge snow slope into An Reidh-choire for lunch.
As we descended, snowballs raced each other ahead of us. Later these were joined by the top of Paul's flask.

I tried to glissade but just got wet trousers.
Our descent around the back of the mountain to the road was uneventful aside from a wet crawl under a deer fence to reach the road.
It was a lovely afternoon, and only 4pm, the reason Dave gave for walking the 4 miles back to the lodge. Or was he scared of Paul's driving?

Here's today's route, 12 km and 1200 metres ascent:

Sunday 13 April 2008 - A 'Two Corbett' Day

Bacon butties and an ample breakfast fuelled us for an easy first day in good but showery weather.
The six of us set off past the Ling Hut in as good spirits as the very friendly dog we met there.

The next 3 km along the stalkers path up Coire a Cheud-Chnoic was a delight.
The showers eased and 5 of us continued easily to the Corbett summit - Sgorr nan Lochan Uaine (871m), whilst Notchy meandered around to the north ridge to which the rest of us descended to meet him for lunch.

Notchy then headed down to Coulin Lodge - he had bog and route finding problems later on - whilst the rest of us continued up Sgurr Dubh (782m) where we enjoyed expansive views over the Torridon area.

Sadly the snow above 500m was too soft to require our axes and crampons.
WNW took us past a cliff to descend easily to regain the stalkers path below Ling Hut and get back to the car by 4pm after being out for over 6 hours.
We then rescued Notchy who was enjoying an amble along the road after his adventure with a tricky 'log and wire' bridge over a river.
From the cottage we enjoyed fine views as the Munro tops of Alligin and Liathach (below) cleared.

Moroccan chicken from the Pacific Ramblers rounded off a superb day, though apart from the continuing onset of 'Hypochondriac Dave's' Alzheimer's impersonations, there were no significant incidents.

Today's route, for all apart from Notchy, is shown below:

12 km, 1100 metres ascent.

Saturday 12 April - A View to Beinn Alligin

Tonight we have a fine moonlit view of Beinn Alligin, whose slopes have a covering of snow above about 400 metres.
From here we have a fine sight of the steep gully that leads to the summit.
We enjoyed a firework display tonight, put on for revellers at a wedding at the nearby Torridon Hotel.
This after a 10 hour, 450 mile journey, loaded to the gunnels - the vibration had gone; the only discomforting sound was that of the rear mudflaps scraping along the ground, followed by a superb lasagna and fine wine,
En route we picked up Heather's TGOC food parcels and were pleased to be told that she should be walking again next week after the plaster comes off her broken metatarsal - a ballroom injury, apparently!
The above view is of Beinn Alligin, from our bedroom window, taken later in the week.

Friday 11 April 2008 - All Aboard for a Week in Torridon

We probably won’t be blogging again, due to a lack of facilities, until Monday 21 April.
This is where we will be until then.
The header picture on this link is supposed to be our view from the cottage. It looks comparable to the view across Loch Broom (the header picture of this blog) from Tigh na Mara in Ullapool, where we have spent the corresponding week for the past three years.

This week has been busy, with little in the way of exercise, hence the lack of blogs (and I was exhausted after writing up last weekend’s exploits).
But the route cards are now printed and laminated, the car is loaded with food for 6 people for a week, and with 4 food parcels for our TGO Challenge, to be delivered to various places on our journey home. These will be added to in the morning as Heather T-S flings in her own food parcels as we whizz past her at a café near Kendal.
Sue has even cooked a huge lasagne for tomorrow night, and we have CCS (see here, and here for the recipe) coming out of every ‘orifice’ (so to speak!).
Incidentally, CCS also features heavily (literally) in our food parcels. Disturbingly, the Braemar package weighs in at about 6 kg. Luckily my porter is carrying the tent and food, whilst I trot along with ‘The Kitchen’, but I’m sure she will want to divest some of the weight at Lochcallater Lodge!

This week we have also fixed the venues for all this year's evening walks, on which anyone is welcome to join us. Note that it has become a matter of pride to beat Notchy to the pub and greet him with a pint before we start! Details are here.
[These walks aren't very energetic.]

Finally, after watching our local news presenters whinge about various things today, I’d like to record that:
our bins were emptied on time,
the journey to the supermarket in the rush hour involved no hold-ups,
there was no queue at the checkout,
the butcher was busy, but had time to offer to vacuum pack our meat when he realised it needed to travel well,
the air hose at the garage worked (I have to say, this is rare!),
it rained, but we missed the showers,
and so on – I think you get the picture.

On the other hand, my marker pen did run out of ink…

That's all for now. We look forward to reporting on the Torridon trip when we get back.

Enjoy the lovely Spring weather!

Friday 4 to Sunday 6 April 2008 - An Arctic Wind from Ben Alder

An Arctic wind from Ben Alder greeted us as we emerged from the tent to dump our bags onto the snow-laden heather on the third morning of our walk. As I went back to supervise the striking of the tent, I caught sight of Alastair chasing a blue blob across the hillside. The blue blob was my fully laden rucksack. It was duly rescued and re-attached to terra firma with a piece of ironmongery.

It was indeed windy!

This was Alastair’s second attempt to climb Ben Alder and its neighbouring Munro (Scottish peaks over 3000 feet) summits.
Last year we had abandoned the attempt in advance, in favour of day walks, due to a poor weather forecast. [Our report on that trip is here.]

This year we set off from Pitlochry Backpackers Hotel on Friday morning in good spirits despite the light rain. An hour’s drive took us to the head of Loch Rannoch and a good parking spot by a deer fence that marked the start of our route.
By now we had seen red deer and red squirrels and assorted birds of prey…and the rain had stopped. As we strolled along a good track towards Benalder Cottage it was briefly t-shirt weather, but the forecast colder air soon arrived, with a change of the wind direction to north.

Fine views of the Glencoe summits opened out to the west, whilst our path headed unerringly towards Ben Alder, with its summit cloaked in cloud.

Laden with supplies for three days, the 13 km to Benalder Cottage took us 3½ hours, the last 5 km being over increasingly boggy ground beside Loch Ericht.

We lunched in the small bothy. It was cold and uninviting inside, but out of the wind. I tried to sit on a broken plastic chair, hence looking like a midget beside Alastair's ample frame.

From the bothy we ascended steeply up to Bealach Breabag, reached way ahead of schedule at soon after 2 pm. Our plan had been to find a camping spot and bag Beinn Bheòil before supper, but the weather was fair, and we had loads of time...

"Ben Alder, then?"

"Yes" replied Sue and Alastair in unison.

So up we went, with excellent views across to Beinn Bheòil from the steep route up to the heavily corniced rim of Garbh Choire.

By now, Sue and Al were feeling the weight of their packs - I'd given Sue the food and the tent poles, and Al had the rest of the tent. We all had full winter gear including axes and crampons, and my pack contained The Kitchen. Loch Ericht seemed a long way down behind us.

My Go-Lite Quest rucksack, weighing in at much less than the others' old Karrimor efforts, allowed me to zoom up the slope, but it was a cold wait at the top!

Eventually we regrouped for a walk above the huge cliffs of Garbh Choire, taking care to steer clear of the massive cornices.

This was a big summit for Sue and Al. Ben Alder is not the simplest of places to reach, and they were very pleased to be able to tick off this hill. For me it brought good memories of a warm May weekend in 1990 when several of us walked in from Dalwhinnie. The trainers I used on that occasion would not have been appropriate today!

We decided not to attempt the direct descent via the Short Leachas to our planned campsite, as we didn't fancy an exposed scramble. So we headed north to the long pinnacled spur that is the Long Leachas - and that proved quite scrambly enough for us.
After descending with great care for a while we arrived at a minor col before another rocky section. Here the soft snow provided us with an enjoyable 200 metre bum slide into the depths of Coire na Lethchois.

We strolled over the snowy wastes for about 1 km and found an excellent camping spot near the outflow from Loch a' Bhealaich Bheithe. Before setting up camp I thought it worthwhile to have a look at the outflow. I expected to find a small stream. With stepping stones...
No such luck!

We decided to get wet now, rather than in the morning, and to cross here rather than try a long diversion around the head of the loch. So we marched across the fast flowing river, knee deep, in our socks. The rocks were actually very smooth, so bare feet would have worked. But the water was icy cold. [The socks soon froze and remained frozen until we got home on Sunday night!]

Camp was quickly established right next to the outflow, so fetching water was not an arduous task, though having both cold feet and cold hands was a little annoying.

We enjoyed a sumptuous meal in the spacious tent (Terra Nova Hyperspace - being used in conditions for which it was designed), and in the time honoured manner of backpacking we drifted off to sleep shortly after 9 pm when darkness embraced our world.

After sleeping deeply up here at 720 metres in the pitch black tent we woke refreshed and eager to bag another Munro.

Beinn Bheòil succumbed without a fight, by 8.30 am.

There had been a couple of inches of snow overnight, and the thick fabric of the flysheet was rigid with slabs of frozen snow.

The path down to Culra bothy was delightful. By the time we reached this (most welcome) bridge over the Allt a' Chaoil-rèidhe it was 11 am. Having met just one person yesterday, we met 3 smartly attired hikers on the bridge. They had just left the bothy, in which they were staying, to climb Ben Alder.

Here's the bothy, with Ben Alder and the Long Leachas ridge behind. If those 3 hikers' mountain skills are anything like their bothy skills...they never made it.

The bothy was a tip. Not from accumulated rubbish but from the current mess of its occupants.
A man in pink trousers was in residence, but he would soon be heading off towards Benalder Cottage.
We found a space to brew up and enjoy an early lunch, pleased that the bothy was there to provide shelter from the wind for a while, but also pleased that we had our own shelter and did not have to endure the messiness of others.

Our next objective was Carn Dearg - a 1034 metre peak, some 600 metres above us. At first, steep boggy heather, the most awkward sort of slope, and very slow. As we rose up the steep flank of the hill, the snowy squalls that had featured all day became more intense and more frequent.

Alastair donned crampons, unnoticed by me as I looked back down the hill. I was cool with just 3 thin layers, and I stormed up the exposed slopes to reach the summit some time before the others. I found a good sheltered spot to add a thick fleece to my clothing, but the storm increased and visibility dropped to 5 metres. Sue and Al were understandably annoyed at my having left them, albeit the route seemed safe and straightforward.

As we navigated our way through stinging spindrift along the broad snowy ridge, the weather cleared briefly to show the way ahead (over Sue's right shoulder in this picture - steeper than it looks).

There was a steep snow slope in severe weather to be negotiated to reach the Geal-chàrn plateau. We were moving at differing speeds. Visibility was between poor and non-existent. It was blowing a gale. Blinding spindrift was a bit of a hazard...

We retreated towards Bealach Dubh down a gentle snow slope from Diollaid a' Chairn.

We had known our plan to bag three more Munros was an ambitious one requiring fortune with the weather, and we felt we had made the best of the day - after all, two remote Munros on one wintry day is not bad by our standards, and it was just so good to be out of the severe weather on the ridge.
It was an excellent, if snowy, path that led us over Bealach Dubh, then Bealach Cumhann, to the relative tranquility of the valley by the Alder Burn.

By 6 pm we had set up camp on some flat, springy heather at about 540 metres at NN 476 705.
Here we are, with a snowy Beinn a' Chumhainn behind the tent.

And here's the view from the tent, towards the Carn Mairg group in the distance across Alder Bay and Loch Ericht.

The weather worsened. Overnight we saw another two inches of snow fall. (Well, if we'd been awake - I think we all got about 10 hours sleep after another sumptuous meal.)

When we woke it was 0° C in the tent.

Alastair was on the leeward side so we made him cook breakfast.

I was on the windy side of the tent, the wind having shifted from north to east during the night. I could feel a tent pole as it flexed over my face as if nudging me..."wake-up, wake-up"...

The tent must have been flexing to a most peculiar shape, but it was well secured and we were cosy in our winter bags.

But eventually we had to pack up - done inside the tent - and strike camp. And that's when my fully laden rucksack blew away in the wind. Alright, it didn't go far, but...well, should a full pack just blow away? Perhaps Go-Lite need to install a restraining gadget? The ice axe kept it in place anyway, whilst we efficiently got the tent down:

1. Remove poles.
2. Drag out inner, folding as you go.
3. Fold flysheet as you unpeg it.
Easy really, then you shoulder your pack, if you can find it, and head down the hill.

Soon Benalder Cottage, the hovel (sorry, bothy) in which we could have stayed, came into view by Loch Ericht, whose waves were splashing way above the shore line.

The path beside the loch was as boggy as ever, now with a thin crust of snow and ice that neatly concealed some of the wetter bits. But the wind was behind us and, looking back, the mountains were shining brightly above the white horses on the loch.

The walk out from Benalder Cottage took about 3½ hours, as had the walk in two days earlier.

Alastair's rucksack still sat at the jaunty angle that had become a distinctive feature of his rear profile - it was actually usually worse than illustrated here!

And as the weather became more benign, the track improved, skylarks sang above, birds of prey floated menacingly over the trees, and as we reached the car at about 1 pm we met a man walking a dog - only the sixth person we had seen in three days.

Here's an overview of our route, if you can make it out. In total we walked about 60 km and climbed about 2700 metres during this most excellent three day trip.

Wednesday 2 April 2008 - Bits and Pieces

The robins are mating in our garden, but what has happened here?

1. Thanks to Bob and Rose at backpackinglight.co.uk for sending a new rucksack liner so quickly. I wonder whether Exped will provide a refund, or has this 65 litre liner, bought for last year’s TGO Challenge, really worn out within a year? The old one, with many pinhole perforations, is in the post back to Bob. [Good value regardless – it has endured much use.]

2. It was a lovely day out yesterday with Daryl. But I can’t help thinking….
...Perhaps he should ruthlessly go through his bag and send a parcel home. The really cold weather should be at an end after this weekend.
...He has a fine pair of boots, but heavy. Are they helping or hindering his ankle injury? I might yearn for something lighter in his position…

...I questioned why (how) he could put up with a serious amount of road walking. Today his blog will answer that question most eloquently.
...Daryl certainly has his remote blogging system well sorted.

3. Now how can I do that (blog remotely without recourse to an internet cafe)? I was thinking of the Blackberry 8120 that I can get on my Orange contract, but Daryl thinks there may be a problem with word and excel documents. Do I really need those? Ho hum. And blogging from Italy in the summer using the phone looks as if it may be very expensive. Perhaps the blog will need some holidays. Any thoughts on all this will be welcome, by comment or email. They really will be welcome!

4. The psychic rattle
Strange that having rattled from new, and some 6 years down the line having developed an exacerbated form of the ‘disease’, our car somehow recognised the presence of an acoustics engineer keen to analyse the problem.
This is not a whinge (I am quite attached to our rattly old car), just an observation; why should it have run as silently as ever in its entire life when Daryl, acoustics engineer, was a passenger?

5. Blog goes on Holiday
All will be quiet for a few days as we are backpacking in the wilds of Scotland (subject to weather) and (see 3 above) still need the right equipment to blog, though I don’t recollect being able to get a phone signal from the area in question.
Back next week…

Tuesday 1 April 2008 - A stroll along the Lancaster Canal with Daryl May, JOGLER

Since returning from New Zealand a couple of weeks ago I had gradually become aware of the presence in the UK of Daryl May, a retired acoustics engineer in the aerospace industry. Last year Daryl walked from Lands End to John o’Groats; this year he returned to John o’Groats for the walk back to Lands End!

A quick look at some of the outdoor blogs, in particular Alan Sloman’s – he did LEJOG last year – reveals that Daryl is not alone in his outdoors venture this year.

I’d looked at Daryl’s well written and entertaining blog, and had read of his difficulties with a septic blister and a poorly ankle. He lives in Tampa, Florida, so unlike Alan last year he has few friends and family to visit and encourage him. But such folk do have an extended ‘family’, such as Ian Shiel, who recently intercepted Daryl on Beattock summit with hot soup and other goodies.

I’d noted Daryl’s route and surmised that I could intercept him myself today. Moreover, whereas I have hiked frequently in the Trough of Bowland to the east of the M6 motorway, I had never walked much of the section of the Lancaster canal between Lancaster and Preston. So here was my chance.

After many helpful exchanges with Ian, an experienced ‘end-to-end’er, I set off to find Daryl after stashing my bike in the back of the car. After getting covered with oil and dirt in the process I had a good feeling – ie the bike would not be needed!

And so it proved, the unmistakable figure of an elderly man in orange trousers was moving slowly out of Galgate on a footpath beside the A6 road, just loosening up after his sojourn at The New Inn. I had time to turn, park, boot up, and greet this ‘Hobson’, as Daryl sometimes refers to himself, just where a path leads from the A6 to the rather more peaceful towpath of the Lancaster Canal.

Luckily he agreed to come with me, and we set off over an iron gate securely fastened with barbed wire, across a muddy field in search of the canal. When we got to it, to my surprise, there was no easy access to the canal. The barbed fence and steep bank could have been negotiated but I think Daryl was relieved to avoid that in favour of walking a short way north to gain legitimate entry to the towpath where the waterway to picturesque Glasson Dock diverges from the main canal.

It was good to chat with Daryl. To him this is not a wilderness challenge involving high level long-distance routes such as the Pennine Way. It’s a personal challenge to reach Lands End in time to catch his flight home in mid May. So if he has to walk on roads, so be it. And he does need to do that in order to maintain his schedule, which after his delay due to injury in Scotland has left him with only a very small number of days off.

I’m sure he will enjoy more company over the coming days. His main journal page is here, and he is currently in Chapter 6.

The time flew past as we strolled down the canal, followed for some way by an attentive swan, with chaffinches, great tits and goldfinches in the hedgerows, and the occasional distinct bubbly musical song of a curlew in the fields.

Strategically placed benches helped Daryl rest his sore ankle, and where they were absent a grassy bank or stone steps could usually be found. And of course we scoffed Sue’s CCS (see here) along with our mugs of tea.

Lunch was taken on a bench just outside Garstang. I’d packed a few provisions and I think Daryl enjoyed the smoked salmon and cream cheese on freshly baked bread. Just around the corner in Th’Owd Tithe Barn, a characterful canalside pub dating back to 1710 and originally a tithe barn used for the storage of corn, pints of Strongbow and Cumberland Ale refreshed us for the afternoon.

Passing lots of quacking mallards, and the occasional barge, we continued south, closer now to the frighteningly fast inter city trains and the rumble of motorway traffic. It was very pleasant though, and I was disappointed to reach the edge of Bilsborrow, where the A6 provides a shorter route south than the meandering canal.

Whilst Daryl continued along the road for a couple of miles I explored a newly opened and vast Barton Grange Garden Centre before catching a bus back to Galgate and returning to pick up Daryl and provide him with food and lodging, with a promise to return him to the same spot the following morning.

It was indeed a very pleasant evening.

Here’s an overview of today’s route. I walked about 19 km in 6 hours including stops, Daryl did more than that.

Sunday 30 March 2008 - Dipping and Fishing in the Goyt Valley

The clocks changed today. So our evenings will be blessed with the chatter of the birds and the glint of the declining sun for the next six months or so. Whoopee!
This morning, however, after losing the hour that propels us into ‘summertime’, we had foolishly planned a walk to start at 10 am. And a phone message indicated we would have company, so we left in plenty of time to get to the Pym Chair rendezvous for a walk in the Goyt Valley.
But Wilmslow was closed for its annual half-marathon event, necessitating time consuming extrication from its traffic jam and a lengthy diversionary route.
Sue and Phil were puzzled but relaxed about our lateness. It’s usually the other way round, but Phil had been up early ringing today.
From a balmy morning in Timperley we had been transported to rather different conditions up at Pym Chair. The car doors were at risk of serious damage from the strong icy wind.
We soon warmed up on the good path to Windgather Rocks, a mecca for climbers but deserted this morning, as Pym Chair had been.
On down Taxal Edge, we watched lapwings fluttering wildly in the wind, before dropping down into the calm of the valley where this lone tree stood proud against the deep blue sky.

Down here, out of the wind, it was a lovely day for a stroll.

Entering the smart hamlet of Taxal, we walked down the sturdy ancient cobbles that led past the church that was positioned serenely in a bed of daffodils.

The River Goyt can be forded down here, but we chose the footbridge and then enjoyed a most scenic stroll through woods and fields beside the Goyt to Fernilee Reservoir.
Pausing to transfer tea from flasks to stomachs we watched a dipper breakfasting along the fast flowing stretch of water. Then the unmistakable blue flash of a kingfisher further brightened our day.
Some of the trees hereabouts reminded us of the moss laden ‘bush’ we had so much enjoyed in New Zealand.

After helping to reunite a youthful jogger with her mother, we walked up the bank to Errwood Reservoir. There are a number of benches along here, one of which proved an excellent lunch spot.

The path up Stake Side brought back memories of the ‘Four Inns’ walk that I did a few years ago - at 45 miles, it’s a full day out, and this path is memorable for being the last major ascent on that walk.

But today it was easy going, and after assisting some misplaced pensioners with their route back to Pym Chair (they had a map but couldn’t use it) we soon found ourselves up at Shining Tor, the highest point in Cheshire, with great views in all directions.

[Note that the Cat and Fiddle Inn just to the south of our path would be an easy (2.5 km return) diversion for anyone following this route and wanting a pub lunch.]

The path between Shining Tor and Pym Chair used to be a difficult boggy route, but a few years ago stone slabs were laid and the surrounding land has now virtually recovered from its previous devastation. We noticed that some netting had been laid, presumably to aid the recovery process.

Back at Pym Chair at 3 o clock, the car park was now full, a bright yellow radio controlled glider was being skilfully manoeuvred in the wind, a kite was flapping threateningly above our heads, and kestrels were soaring gracefully.

Apparently Pym Chair takes its name from a formation of rocks that once stood on the ridge near here. There is a choice of local legends about the man known as ‘Pym’.
Perhaps he was a non-conformist preacher whose pulpit here was away from the eyes and ears of the authorities who prohibited such events.
Or perhaps he was the highwayman who used to watch from Pym Chair and then ambush the packhorse trains passing below the rocks with their cargoes of salt from Cheshire or coal, lime or lead from Derbyshire on this route which has linked Cheshire and Derbyshire since Roman times and was used well into the 19th century.

Our route is outlined below – it was about 16 km, with 550 metres of ascent, and took us about 4 hours plus stops.