A Sunny Day for a Drive to Skye

With a few things thrown into a bag I managed to leave Timperley by 9am on a bright sunny morning.

And the sunglasses stayed on all the way to Seaview B+B in Broadford, with many stops for roadworks and snaps during the latter part of the journey. Sadly the best views always seemed to be directly into the sun. But can you recognise where today's snap was taken from?

Not even the Ben had a hat on, the visibility was excellent and the views were fine, with just a splash of recent snow on the higher summits.

Wolfgang, Jutta and Robert, the 'Dornbirn Crew' were already installed at the B+B, so I've just time for a mug of tea before we nip off for an Indian meal.

Snow is forecast, but there should be a walk tomorrow.

Monday 16 April 2012 - Another Trip!

Today I’m booked into a B&B in Broadford, together with Austrian friends Wolfgang and Jutta, and Robert, a complete stranger with whom I’m sharing a room.

On Tuesday we’ll do something on Skye.

If anyone would care to join me, I have a few days to fill before meeting Sue in Braemar on Friday, as there seems little point in returning to Timperley.  I’m planning the following:

Wednesday – Beinn nan Caorach and Beinn na h-Eaglaise from Arnisdale.

Thursday – Carn an Fhreiceadain from Newtonmore Hostel.

Friday – Sgor Mor from Linn of Dee.

Call me or leave a message on mobile@topwalks.com if you fancy any of these.

Martin

I’d better get going!

Saturday 14 April 2012 – The Calderdale Hike

With Robert in Mallorca, and others lacking energy or interest, I’d set myself a modest target of eight and a half hours for this year’s Calderdale Hike, along a new 26 mile route.

That was until a call from John at the Austrian Alpine Club suggested we arrive at Crowden by 6pm for an evening I’d expected to start at least an hour later.  With Calderdale and Crowden both not much less than an hour’s journey from Timperley, that created a little time pressure.

So, with plans to travel directly to Crowden from Calderdale and meet Sue there if necessary, I jumped out of bed at 6.30, scraped the ice of the windscreen, and made it up to Sowerby Bridge in time to hand back last year’s trophy and get my kit checked before the 8am start for the short (26 mile) course walkers.

Here we are, milling around on the sunny morning before the 8am start of this year’s Calderdale Hike.

Philip Whitaker (who I may have mistakenly maligned in the past for running – I apologise if that was incorrect, I don’t think he ran today) set off at a blistering pace.  He has very long legs. 

“Hello, I’m Richard.  Are you Martin?” asked a complete stranger.  He turned out to be a ‘blog stalker’ who had found my previous scribblings about this event, which he was entering for the first time.  Richard had reconnoitred some of the route, and he could match my pace, so that was very helpful.

Here he is on the descent to Hoo Hole near Mytholmroyd.

Philip disappeared ahead into the far distance.  We would never catch him – he finished over twenty minutes ahead of us, regaining the Veteran Walker trophy that he and I have both won on several occasions.  On the other hand, two youths and a couple were on our tails as we ascended to Stoodley Pike Monument, and a short cut on the way down from there took these four ahead of us until all six of us were held up for a few minutes by a farmer moving some sheep along the narrow path.  He got quite frustrated with our perceived impatience. 

We apologise…

After excellent refreshments at Lumbutts we negotiated our way through Todmorden and up to the golf club for the next checkpoint.

We nearly made the mistake of following the runners on the long course – they had started an hour later than us – but then realised we should turn in our tracks and return past the sad looking church at Hole Bottom, where the clock face has been replaced with an alarm box. 

Across the valley, Stoodley Pike Monument already appeared quite distant.

By now the weather had changed, and we narrowly missed some sharp showers on what was now a rather grey day.  But it was good walking weather and we sped on at an admirable pace, leaving the young lads and the couple behind.  We didn’t see anyone on the 26 mile walk after Hole Bottom, about a third of our way along the route, but we were regularly passed by runners, including Richard’s doctor.

With a vast choice of routes between the checkpoints, we chose a blend of country lanes and moorland trods.  The latter were quite boggy as we crossed Heptonstall Moor to reach Blake Dean, where Richard had a longer than usual wait for me due to my longer than usual ablution stop on the moor, which thankfully was vacant at the time.

Moving quickly on, we enjoyed the very pleasant stroll past Hardcastle Crags to Gibson Mill, a National Trust property well known to Richard.

After failing to spot that the New Bridge checkpoint was hidden up a hill in the upper car park (we eventually found it) we continued, partly along the Calderdale Way, up to Delf End checkpoint, where the long course runners rejoin our shorter route, so from here we saw more people.

Here’s the support point at Delf End, putting on happy faces especially for the camera as Richard takes on board some liquid.  He was suffering a little up some of the hills by now, but still keeping up a good pace, and he had recced the route from here so he knew the way home.

Manning checkpoints wasn’t the most pleasant of jobs this year, as the intermittent cold drizzle must have been a bit tiresome.  It was a day for down jackets if doing that job.

Nevertheless, by the time Richard and I reached the steep haul back up to Sowerby, the day had improved a bit and Richard had changed his leaky boots in favour of some nice clean trainers for the last few miles, which were largely on metaled lanes and a canal towpath.

The sun attempted a reappearance as we passed Sowerby’s church on our way back to the cricket ground, completing the 26 mile route in 7 hours 11 minutes, with Philip the only short course walker to finish ahead of us.

Luckily our unexpectedly speedy pace left time for a meal and a beer at the cricket club – a tradition that I’d have been disappointed to have missed!

Here’s our route - 42 km, 1350 metres ascent, 7 hours 11 minutes.

All in all an excellent day out.  Thanks for your company, Richard, it certainly enhanced the day, hopefully for both of us, and I hope you can find a place in your office for the Clayhouse Shield that you won for being the fastest (non-veteran) walker to finish.  Well done!

This entry has been rather hastily written, due to time pressures, so apologies for that.  Last year’s report is here, and my 2009 report is here.

My Garmin gadget (not turned off for a few minutes after we finished) recorded our route as follows:

PS I did manage to get home to pick up Sue and get to Crowden by 6pm.

PPS Greetings, Michael!  Fancy doing this next year?

Friday 13 April 2012 - The Lancashire Trail – Part 7 – Whalley to Barley

This penultimate stage of the East Lancs LDWA’s Lancashire Trail ‘Plod’ will officially take place next Wednesday 18 April, but those of us who can’t get to that event enjoyed the privilege of joining Reg on his ‘recce’ of the route.

In the event, the original route from over thirty years ago was proven to have stood the test of time, unlike some of the earlier sections that had needed adjustments following Reg’s recce’s.

We started from Whalley in a jolly mood - Nancy, Jim, Norman, Reg and Martin, as pictured above on the ascent of Clerk Hill, on a rather overcast day that had the pessimists reaching for their waterproofs and the optimists (Reg and me) ignoring any moisture and relying on our fleeces.

A boiler with a big chimney was reminiscent of the early days of steam.  Norman, clearly the only person amongst us who was old enough to cast his mind back to those days, announced "I'm a Master Plumber, I can get this going."

"Press the button, Norman" said Jim.

A hasty retreat was made from Wiswell Moor Houses, from where the nearby hills to the south east were lounging under a light haze.

Did this fine sign herald the time for a decision?  Not really, the Nick of Pendle was our clear and easy objective.

A good path led towards the Nick.  Suddenly, Norman and his cohorts turned on their leader - "It's gone eleven, why haven't we had a tea break?"

"Ok" replied Reg, and we all sat down.

From beyond the Nick of Pendle, expansive if dull views drew the eye far beyond the cement works of Clitheroe.

There was a good path by Ogden Clough, where the sun made a brief appearance.

Pendle Hill - 557 metres – was eventually summited.  The summit plateau was gained via a superb stone pathway, a great improvement over the eroded bogland that I recall from my youthful visits to this hill.  There were fine views in all directions, albeit a bit hazy, with the distinct outline of Ingleborough hiding behind Norman’s vast bulk.

Norman (The Clown) tried to fly. "Oops" he exclaimed "I think I’m too heavy for this!"

We met two reprobates with china mugs and large lunch boxes.  I hadn't seen Dave since I bought his old mountain bike from him last year, so we joined the jovial duo for lunch and a chat.

Norman and Nancy were tickled by Dave and Alan’s choice of crisp manufacturer.

These two jokers were soon seen descending to Barley, hand in hand, with Clenched Buttocks (it’s a long story).

We passed a stream whose banks were loaded with Primula.

Looking back to Pendle Hill, it seemed quite small to me, but I suspect it is the high point of this route.

A fine cobbled path led inexorably to the fleshpots of Barley – a restaurant and a pub, and a cafe…where we all enjoyed a coffee.

Here’s our route - 12 km, 500 metres ascent, taking around 3-4 hours.

What a pleasant day.  I hope the actual ‘event’ proves to be as enjoyable for those who go along next week.

My photos from the day can be viewed as a slideshow, here.

Back to Lancashire Trail Index

Wednesday 28 March 2012 – Lancashire Trail – Part 6 – Mellor to Whalley (Episode 1)

On a lovely sunny March morning some 16 Plodders and Maude congregated at Springwood Picnic Area in Whalley, before transferring to Mellor and setting off from the point at which we arrived in the rain on 22 February.

We soon reached an orientation point at 223 metres on Mellor Moor, the site of an Underground Nuclear Monitoring Post, now sealed.

Pendle Hill lurked almost unseen on the horizon, through the March heat haze, as we passed by Midge Hall and the course of an obscure Roman Road, before reaching the site of Norman’s latest addition to his property empire, foolishly purchased on the basis of an agent's particulars.

Norman toasted his success and proudly offered the property as a base for club weekends.

A capped reservoir was passed, so well fortified and equipped with security cameras, that we decided it must be a fuel store rather than a ‘water store’.

A very pleasant descent led to the village of Wilpshire, from where a hot rise to the golf course had everyone gasping, and annoyed some golfers who had to wait for all sixteen of us to cross through their line of fire.  Grumpy old men, they should have appreciated the break, on such a hot day.

It was time for lunch, taken from a hollow in the grass (Roger), or a comfy bench (Reg), and much in between.

From there, good turf led towards Snodworth, and the approach to Dean Clough Reservoir.

Reg skilfully guided everyone past the reservoir and through a dense forest of gorse, before lingering at the rear with Norman as a sort of test to see what would happen next.

It's best to stay behind Reg and Norman - they usually know the route.

Luckily for the rest of the group, as soon as a decision had to be made, Roger collapsed like a Granny’s jelly, preventing the need for any guesswork before our esteemed leader arrived on the scene.  Reg (‘The Butcher’) started to salivate at the sight of Roger’s collapse, but the victim suddenly revived at the sight of the scalpel.

The foothills of Pendle Hill loomed ahead – perhaps that had caused some to falter, but after reassurance that we would not be going much further today, everyone ambled gently down to the pleasant village of Whalley, and the River Calder.

There’s a fine viaduct here, but we by-passed the village by taking a ginnel to a riverside path.

Norman performed some of his usual antics in the weir, as illustrated in Episode 2 of this report (which being more timely may be more accurate than this poorly recalled Episode 1).

Leaving the riverside, Reg’s well recce’d route passed a display of classic cars.

Having made it back to Springwood picnic area, just beyond Whalley, we then returned to Mellor to pick up transport and enjoy a beer and a planning session.

Thanks as always go to Reg for organising the 'Plod', and to Norman for his excellent 'clown' impersonations.

Here’s today’s route, approximately 14 km with 340 metres ascent, taking us just about 4 hours.

Reg’s (more accurate as always) report is on this page, and I’ve uploaded a few more images here.

Back to Lancashire Trail Index

Easter Monday Antics

“Where can we go to show my parents some local culture?” asked Sue’s Italian teacher.

“I don’t know”, replied Sue, “I shall have to seek advice from my ‘Culture Secretary’”.

And so it was that I found myself ambling along the Bridgewater Canal on a wet Easter Monday in search of ‘culture’, as recommended by Sue’s unlikely choice of personnel, her ‘Culture Secretary’.

Passing through Broadheath, I noticed with sadness that ‘Malbo Joe’ hadn’t quite made it to the party in Timperley.

“Is the party in Timperley still raving on?” asked the lady with the dog on a boat.  “No, you need to turn around” I replied “a ‘Culture Secretary’ says it has moved to ‘The Swan’.”

By and by I reached the Swan, just late enough for Sue (who chose a more sensible mode of transport) to have done the honours at the bar, in the company of a jolly band of Thelwall Morris Dancers.  Sadly, neither Sue’s Italian teacher and her family nor Sue’s ‘Culture Secretary’ had been able to make it, so the audience for the Morris Men was, shall we say, ‘limited’.

“We blame you for making us do this” spluttered the drenched dancers after Sue had told them she had come specially to see them.  Despite encouragement from the jolly chap at the top of this posting, the diners in the pub couldn’t be persuaded away from their beef dripping and chips.

JJ had put on an ingenious face mask and stilts today, but there was no doubting that this was he, scouting for Italian tourists whilst modeling his new TGO Challenge hat.

The dancing continued.  The dancers got soggier.

There were glum looks from below the masks as beer glasses were slowly diluted by the persistent rain.

Sue took a video that will no doubt zoom up YouTube’s chart lists.  Or not.

After the third dance the men cleverly diverted their efforts to the bar, where in the absence of JJ her ‘Culture Secretary’ Sue thanked them for their efforts.

It was still raining, the Swan’s picnic tables were deserted. 

Whilst Sue zoomed off on ‘Essential Business’ I tottered back down the slithery towpath, where at least the Forget-me-nots were enjoying the rain.

There was hardly anyone else about on this normally very popular stretch of towpath, just three very muddy ‘mountain’ (sic) bikers and a puzzled looking drenched family that looked as if it has been deposited by an alien spaceship.

I’ve not yet seen any swallows or martins, and it’ll be weeks before the swifts return to share our home for a while, but the mallards have been busy…

“Hello” quacked mum “I’ve heard there’s a party at Malbo Joe’s – is it far away?”

“Not far at all” I whistled, casting my eye a few metres down the canal in the direction of Broadheath.

Nice weather for ducks!

Friday 6 April 2012 – Cliveden, and a long journey home

It takes us less than a day to return home from Ottawa.  Why then should it take two and a half days to return from Kent?

After some last photos of Water’s Edge and a long chat with Gemma and Ed about the ups and downs of renting out a cottage in your own garden, we reluctantly departed the lovely cottage that had been our home for the past week.

Several hours on the M25 later, and our butties were finally unwrapped in the delightful gardens at Cliveden, another National Trust property.  We’ve certainly got full value from our National Trust membership this week!

Whilst the gardens are fully open to the Public, the house at Cliveden is a posh hotel, a place of history, mystery, intrigue and scandal for over 350 years.

The current house dates from 1851, previous incarnations having been destroyed by fire, and the most notorious scandal involving the house was the Profumo Affair, which my contemporaries will no doubt remember – here’s an extract from the Wikipedia entry about that:

In the early 1960s, Profumo was the Secretary of State for War in Harold Macmillan's Conservative government and was married to actress Valerie Hobson. In 1961, Profumo met Christine Keeler, a London call girl, at a house party at Cliveden, the Buckinghamshire mansion owned by Lord Astor. Many years later Profumo would claim, in discussion with his son, David, that he had met Keeler previously at a night club in London called Murray's and "probably had a drink with her." Also present at the Cliveden party were Profumo's wife and the fashionable osteopath, Dr Stephen Ward, a long-standing acquaintance of Keeler. The relationship with Keeler lasted only a few weeks before Profumo ended it. However, rumours about the affair became public in 1962, as did the allegation that Keeler had also had a relationship with Yevgeny "Eugene" Ivanov, a senior naval attaché at the Soviet embassy in London. Given Profumo's position in the government and with the Cold War at its height, the potential ramifications in terms of national security were grave, and this, along with the adulterous nature of Profumo's relationship with Keeler, quickly elevated the affair into a public scandal.

Our journey continued uneventfully over the next two days, via Solihull where I took part in the Saturday morning Parkrun, (‘parkjog’ in my case) the first time I’d tried jogging for over a month, due to a pulled calf muscle – luckily it stood up to the test.  The runners here are much quicker than those I usually jog along with at Wythenshawe, with a turnout of 160 people, many of them club runners, whereas Wythenshawe – a newer event – usually gets fewer than 100 participants.

Finally, a visit to Dot, on her 87th birthday, concluded our holiday.  It was good to see her continuing to recover, albeit slowly, from her hip replacement that got infected.  Hopefully the antibiotics she needs to take for the next 2-3 months will get rid of the infection and obviate the need to go through the whole process again…

Here we are with her last Christmas Eve.