Sunday 2 July 2006 – A Good Weather Day

The backpacking 'trial' having failed, we decided on a day walk and purchased Innsbruck Day Passes. Leaving camp at 9.30, LK, then O, then J buses took us to Igls, where annoyingly we got off at the wrong stop. I'll never make a proper mountain guide! A walk back to Igls got us to the cablecar station where we joined hordes in ascending up the Patscherkofel from 870 to 1960 metres - two hours from camp.

Then we wandered around the very poor alpine botanical gardens - not a patch on the ones I'd seen in the Pyrenees on my previous trip. At least they were free of charge - it would be an insult to make people pay for viewing this unkempt meadow/woodland.

So it was 11.45 by the time we joined the crowds on a sunny saunter along the Zirbenweg path - route 350 to Tuffeinalm via Boschenen.

There were summits to climb, but we eschewed these as M and J were tired after yesterday's exertions. It was a pleasant walk in the sun, along easy paths. However, an errant mountain biker did fall off the path ahead of us.

A generous lunch stop on a lofty perch, then it was on to Tulfeinalm for drinks. Here there was no signposted route down, so we retraced some way back along the panoramic path, descending steeply by route 45. It seems we either missed route 42, just beyond Tulfeinalm, or it wasn't indicated.

After meeting huge numbers of people on the high path, on our route down we encountered just one mountain biker. People must take the cablecar down. Not surprisingly, it was a long, hot dusty road. Eventually we reached Rinn, where we waited for over an hour for a postbus that refused to recognise our Innsbruck transport passes. Meanwhile we spent time with happy beers at a local pension. I called Sue - in the garden at home with a sick note for two weeks.

Once the 7 o'clock bus came we got back to camp quite quickly, by 8 o'clock, and cooked our separate meals in the warmth of the Austrian evening.

We saw a marmot today, but they are very elusive compared with their Pyrenean cousins.

We walked about 16 km in 5 hours, with ascent of 300 metres or so.

Here’s a map showing where the last two days were spent. Click to enlarge (and a magnifying glass may be handy!).

Saturday 1 July 2006 – Dodgy Path Day, and Tick Trouble

A slow start. I lay in bed until 7.30 then brewed up and ate muesli bars before shaving and slowly decamping. Meanwhile, Mark and Julianna went in search of food for our backpacking trip, which promised to involve a big ascent in the heat of the day.

We eventually got going at 10.45, past Kranebitten station and up path 214. Julie struggled a little to keep up. Frequent rests were needed. Mark had a huge load for the two day backpack, even after leaving stuff at the campsite. We did however ascend at a reasonable pace and reached 1100 metres, from 650 metres, after about two hours. But the path, already a narrow, steep single track, now skirted crags, with big drops. I went ahead to suss out whether it was suitable. Mark had sturdy trainers and Julie had town shoes. It was unfair to expect them to walk on very narrow shale above steep drops, so we decided to return to camp, stopping for lunch on the steep hillside, and picking up a few ticks for our trouble.

So by mid afternoon we were back at base*, having walked about 4 km with 450 metres ascent, in rather less than four hours.

The rest of the day was spent in camp, and we even watched some of England's ignominious World Cup defeat to Portugal (0-0, 1-3 on penalties).

The path we failed on was marked 'Nur fur geubte', so M and J are not 'geubte'...

* This brought back vivid memories of an ill-fated attempt to continue an Alpine Pass backpack out of Kandersteg on 31 July 1982, when we were turned back by a snow storm and finished up re-pitching our tents in exactly the same place as they had earlier been dismantled, to puzzled looks from other campers as by then the weather was glorious.

Friday 30 June 2006 – A Fishy Interlude starting at Innsbruck

It's the summer of 2006, a busy time for me, with back to back trips around Europe in between a bit of consultancy. This little interlude slotted in between a trip to the Pyrenees with the Aberdeen Hillwalkers, and a camping trip in the Dolomites.

Now, in 2017, I’ve finally edited and indexed some of the pictures from this 'Fishy Interlude', and have typed out my diary and produced a Photobox album. This is the first of a week long series of postings by way of recording the trip for digital posterity.

Friday 30 June

I used Airmiles for the last time to get me from Manchester to Innsbruck, via Frankfurt. Leaving Manchester at 6.45, I arrived in Innsbruck on the "Austrian Arrow" Dash 8 plane in time to walk up to the campsite at Kranebitten and meet my companions for the week at 3 pm.

Mark Fish and his girlfriend Julianna were taking a short break from a tour of European cities. I shared a house with (amongst others) Mark's mum for a while in the 1970s before she emigrated to Canada, and I was pleased with her suggestion that I might accompany Mark and Julianna in the mountains for a few days.

My tent was soon up, and the three of us enjoyed a stroll into Innsbruck along path number 8. Camping gas was acquired and beers and a meal were sourced at Weinhaus Happ, where Sue and I had eaten the previous year. Service was slow, perhaps because Germany were engaged in a tense penalty shoot out in beating Argentina to reach the semi-finals of the football World Cup.

It was a lovely evening, with a fine crescent moon. An easy bus ride saw us back at camp for an early night and a long, deep sleep after a welcome shower.

Canada – Summer 2017 – Costs Summary

Following requests, I promised to summarise the costs of this trip. They are shown below. We could have spent more. We could have spent a lot less. But we don’t have a budget and basically we spend whatever we like. Having said that, this was the most we’ve ever spent on a trip of this nature, but on the other hand Canada is the most expensive place we’ve chosen to visit, so what would you expect?

The photo is from Day 15, when we enjoyed an excellent meal in Sechelt before returning to camp.

All’s Well in Timperley

I like these images, so it seems a shame not to share them. The top two were taken last Wednesday, the bottom one on Friday, when I just missed capturing a potentially prize winning image of a cormorant emerging directly towards me from the canal with a fish in its beak. Then I spotted a rather shy Little Grebe or Dabchick – I’ve not seen one of these before on the canal, though they are common in the region.

We enjoyed Wythenshawe parkrun number 314 on Saturday – a dull day with no photos taken, and for a change I didn’t have to leave early for root canal treatment, although Mark, a parkrunner and root canal specialist, didn’t let me forget about that routine.

Sue walked (sore achilles) and I limped round just behind old Ken. Then we took a couple of ‘Days Off’, though I seem to have accumulated nearly 20,000 steps today during the demolition and removal to the tip of our rather rotten garden shed…

This week may feature a ‘blast from the past’; you don’t have to read it but I know Dot will enjoy it.

Thursday 9 November 2017 – Burbage Edge

This week’s short walk was out of range for the usual suspects, so it was just Sue and I who set off soon after 2 pm from the car park on Goyt’s Lane above the Goyt Valley. Surprisingly we couldn’t find a pay machine; free parking in the Peak District – surely not!

As is becoming customary on my walks, we set out at a 90 degree angle to the planned route, enabling me to take the above picture of the car park from the disused railway line that looks like a good path if you should choose to use it.

After returning to the start, we descended steeply down to Wildmoorstone Brook. A good bridge crosses the brook, beyond which a track leads enticingly down towards Errwood Reservoir. However, our route turned left, steeply up beside the wall on the left in the picture below.

A short thrutch led us to good views on a hazy day across Errwood and Fernilee Reservoirs.

The contouring path across Wild Moor to Goyt’s Moss was thin but easy to follow. Here the heather hadn’t suffered its normal ‘burn’, but instead had been coppiced. This method of securing fresh new shoots for the grouse seems less disfiguring than the ugly burn marks with which we are more familiar.

Coppicing probably also provides some control over the bracken, which can be seen to the right of the next picture, taken in the afternoon sun as we made our way along the fine path up Berry Clough. No coppicing had taken place here.

The path leads up to the crest of Burbage Edge, from where today’s view to Buxton looked, well, gloomy.

A suitable trig point was found on which to rest the camera. We passed only one person on this walk, right at the beginning.

From the trig point the sun was setting behind Shining Tor and the Cat & Fiddle.

We lingered a little while, noting kestrels, rabbits, grouse, pheasants and various LBJs, whilst the sky prepared for sunset. I was surprised not to encounter any hill baggers, as the Hill Baggers’ website informs me that this is Hill Number 7732, a ‘subdewey’. Wow!

A proper photographer would have had the patience to stay high, but we meandered down the edge towards Beet Wood before the best of the colours were concealed from our view by woods and moors.

Below Beet Wood a ‘footpath’ leads to The Beet – a private house with posh cars and a public footpath running through the garden.

Another footpath, a proper one this time, leads through Watford Wood to Watford Farm, the home of two rather sad looking tractors.

The above picture was taken at 1/6 second at f3.3, so I’m lucky it came out at all. We got some lovely sky colours as we negotiated the bogs of Watford Moor and the even worse bogs by Longhill Farm, but by now it was almost dark.

Luckily there was very little traffic on Goyt’s Lane after we had left the wide verge of the A5004. Just as well, as Sue got delayed by a call from work that pinned her to a rare point of reception for quite some time.

Here’s our route – 10.5 km with 350 metres ascent, in rather less than 3 hours.

A nice little outing, and despite the little bit of bogginess on Watford Moor our feet remained comfortably dry.

We adjourned for an excellent meal at Simply Thai, in Buxton, then an interesting evening at the Opera House with Paul Goldstein and Chris Packham. I felt a bit out of place in this gathering for long lens aficionados. The pictures in this posting would all have been deleted by this duo due to their intrinsic flaws, and there were condescending comments along the lines “if you don’t want to be doing this sort of thing you shouldn’t be here” – pointing to a row of freezing cold photographers snapping at some whales’ tails. Actually, I thought, I like looking at the pictures on the big screen at the Opera House, but I’m more than happy to let someone else endure the pain required to take them.

Monday 6 November 2017 – The Wabash Jazzmen at Eagley Jazz Club

Another excellent night’s entertainment at Eagley Jazz Club. Tonight’s line up for the Wabash Jazzmen was led by Mark Challinor on banjo, accompanied by the rhythmic string bass of Richard Vernon, with a front line of Bill Smith on cornet/mouth organ, Mike Hayler on clarinet/tenor sax and Mike Pembroke on trombone.

Our old friend Reg Kingston, of ‘LDWA Plodder’ fame, is actively trying to increase the membership of the jazz club. Posters have been produced for shop windows etc, but as it’s a little way from Timperley I can’t assist in that way. However I would encourage readers who like a bit of Trad Jazz to make the trip to Bolton and enjoy the (roughly) fortnightly Monday night performances. It’s great stuff.

The next date is 20 November - THE CHICAGO TEDDYBEARS SOCIETY JAZZ BAND.

See you there?

Wythenshawe parkrun Number 313, and some Fireworks

There was a good turnout of 239 for parkrun 313. Despite poor weather, the cancellation of a nearby run boosted today’s numbers. We used the original course as we’d have got in the way of preparations for a firework display if we’d used the usual route. It was very squishy underfoot. Waterproof socks were a definite benefit. Only the bravest ran through the big puddle (pictured) at the end of both laps. Sue walked around the course with Jeanette, who is banned from running by her medical team, in about 40 minutes, whilst I jogged round with Young Joe in about 28 minutes. My ‘hamstring’ (or it may be something else?) remains debilitatingly the same, but doesn’t stop me jogging slowly. Thanks to Joe for educating me re some computer issues. Full results are here.

I put my rucksack on the grass under the gazebo before the start. Half an hour later the whole area had been transformed into a mud bath!

Moving on from ‘The Muddy Sinks of Timperley’, the following evening, thousands of people braved the mud to enjoy a 12 minute firework display. Since we were dining with Mike and Sarah just round the corner from the park, it was an easy stroll to watch the excellent display.

My phone may have a ‘fireworks’ setting (older phones certainly have had one) but if so, I have yet to find it. So most of my firework pictures are c**p.

We walked home under a cloud of firework induced fog, but the following day everything had returned to normal. The leaves are mostly still holding firm on the trees by the canal…

Friday 3 November 2017 – A Walk Around Burtonwood

This week’s regular mid-week outing started from the car park at Red Brow Wood (SJ 577 044), near Vulcan Village just north of Junction 9 on the M62. It enabled Keith to pop over from Liverpool as the start was only a five minute walk from Earlestown Station.

Cary accepted a lift for the 40 minute drive from Timperley. He had never been over the Warburton Toll Bridge before and was highly amused by the 12 pence fee!

Keith appeared on time, and we gazed up at a ‘heap’ (not worthy of a picture) that gives it name to the ‘Mucky Mountains’. In 1832, James Muspratt built a chemical works here to manufacture Vitriol – Sulphuric Acid and Metallic Sulphates – by the Leblanc Process. Unfortunately, for every ton of Vitriol produced there were two tons of waste. This waste accumulated to form the ‘Mucky Mountains’. The process also produced large amounts of toxic Hydrogen Chloride. Local landowners complained and Muspratt built a 400 ft chimney to try to circumvent the problem. It didn’t work. The lawsuits continued. The works were closed in 1851, and the chimney was demolished in 1925. Nearby houses had been built for the workers, but these were very basic, being deemed in 1956 to be hovels, and demolished then without ceremony.

Subsequently, a sugar refinery built in 1855 lasted until 1979, when it became an early victim of the EU’s restrictions on sugar cane imports. Perhaps it will now be rebuilt?

Long before the chemical works, back in 1757, the Sankey Canal was opened – the first still water canal – mainly for the purpose of transporting coal from Haydock and Parr to the burgeoning factories of Liverpool. The water remains in part of the cut (see above), but the canal is no longer navigable, having been profitable only up to the 1830’s, when competition from railways initiated its decline.

There are a few locks like this one (Winwick Lock) that have been partially renovated (excavated).

On the other side of the railway near here, the Vulcan foundry is the site of the construction of many locomotives, and a village of small houses that took care of the workforce. Unlike the Muspratt homes, these have been restored and look picturesque as you drive through the village.

The ‘Sankey’ path is now a good cycle track all the way to the River Mersey. It’s easy walking or cycling. It goes under the M62 near junction 9, passing a scrapyard where this classic vehicle is sadly mouldering. I’m not sure of the model, but it appears to date from around 1967 – a Leyland Comet?

We passed Winwick Dry Dock, once a hive of activity.

Nearby, Hulme Lock and Dallam Sluice have been partially resuscitated.

Stanners Pool looks very ordinary, but nearby signage declares it to be part of a nature reserve that teems with wildlife, including water voles, ‘pond minibeasts’ and amphibians, as well as many species of fish.

We left the Sankey Valley here and followed a good path around the edge of a modern industrial estate, and back under the noisy motorway. Soon we were on field paths with views to competing ‘blots on the horizon’.

The local farmer doesn’t seem to care for either the public footpaths across his land, or the signage that accompanies them.

However, I was expecting more mud than this!

Cary and Keith seemed reasonably happy as we took an extra little loop through pleasant woodland to reach the unremarkable village of Burtonwood.

We diverted for half a kilometre or so here, to enjoy lunch at Woody’s café. Soup was from a packet and chewy, for £1.50. Butties (£3) were hefty and quite tasty. Drinks were £1 – rather cheaper than most places, even the Courtyard Café at Wythenshawe Park! There’s a chippy across the road, but the café had the added attraction of a TV that was initially ignored but that gradually mesmerised Cary as an item bought on Bargain Hunt for £30 slowly grew in ‘value’ until it was sold for over £400!

Nearer to our onward path, the Chapel House Inn, reputedly the oldest building in Burtonwood, and extensively refurbished in 2013 appeared less than enticing, as it has a ‘rough’ appearance and was partly surrounded by a wire fence.

A nearby website pronounces:

St. Michael & All Angels, Parish Church of Burtonwood and Collins Green has been at the heart of village life for over 400 years. 

Reunited with our planned route, we took a narrow path between housing estates to reach a quiet lane at Boarded Barn Farm. We then inadvertently passed Bradlegh Old Hall, around which if we’d been more alert we may have noticed a moat, and a 15th century gatehouse. Those features are an heirloom from the time when the hall was the home of Sir Piers Legh, an ancient Lord of the Manor, but today’s farmhouse (shown below) was rebuilt in the 17th century from the stones of the old hall.

Stories of ghosts and secret passages abound, but we continued uneventfully along the summery path towards the Sankey Valley.

The view from the bridge over the canal remained much as it was when we arrived three and a half hours earlier.

Here’s our route – 13 km with minimal ascent.

Whilst writing this up, I discovered I’d been on parts of this walk before, on 8 November 2009. I knew I’d been there when I saw the dry dock, but I’d incorrectly placed it on an LDWA walk on the nearby Lancashire Trail.

The Wipers Times, at Manchester Opera House

Thanks to Jenny for organising this little outing on 2 November.

Ian Hislop and Nick Newman had already made a TV film from the story of how a satirical newspaper was produced by frontline soldiers in the first world war.

This stage version is currently touring the country. Details here.

Here are some extracts from Michael Billington’s Guardian review:

The story is framed by the spectacle of the paper’s editor, Fred Roberts, struggling to find a job in post war Fleet Street. The bulk of the action shows Roberts and his fellow officer Jack Pearson deciding to set up a paper while stationed at Ypres. “A bit like the Daily Mail?” says someone. “I was thinking of something rather more accurate,” replies Roberts. That feels like an anachronistic barb, since the Wipers Times was less concerned with news than with offering a Punch-like mixture of jokes, parodies, poems and cartoons that would capture the rumbling resentment of the common soldier with a cosseted high command and the facile optimism of fireside patriots.

Hislop and Newman give us generous helpings of quotes from the original paper, ram home the point that humour is what separates civilisation from incivility and come up with much intriguing information: it’s astonishing to discover that Michelin really did set out to provide a guide to the battlefields during the war and that Lloyd George claimed that drunkenness posed a bigger threat to the troops than that of Germany or Austria.

The difficulty is striking the right balance between the epic futility of the war and its countervailing humour. Caroline Leslie’s skilfully staged production tends to alternate scenes of military attack with music-hall interludes. The show makes its point about the redemptive power of laughter and the insolent bravery of its journalist heroes.

There is a touch of public-school camaraderie about the relationship between James Dutton’s Roberts and George Kemp’s Pearson that, appropriately, since RC Sherriff contributed to the Wipers Times, put me in mind of Journey’s End. Both actors are very good and there is strong support from Dan Tetsell as the ever-practical sergeant, Sam Ducane as the paper’s main antagonist and Peter Losasso as a hapless private. The show recounts an extraordinary story without escalating into powerful drama but offers a salutary message: that, even in war, blessed are the piss-takers.

There’s another review here.

This was an excellent evening, including a pre theatre meal at Carluccio’s, just a few metres away from my old employer’s offices. I expect I’d know it well if I was still working, but these days trips into Manchester City Centre are few and far between.

A very entertaining production despite the wartime backdrop. Commended.