Wednesday 27 July 2011 – Scafell and Slight Side

I had no idea where in the Lake District I was going today, as I strolled round to Rick’s house soon after 7am.

All was revealed during the course of the next couple of hours, as we pootled up to Lancaster to transfer to Stuart’s charabanc for the trip to Ambleside and onwards over Wrynose and Hardknott passes to Brotherikeld.

So we set off at 10am along the pleasant path by the River Esk that leads to Lingcove Bridge, a wonderful old packhorse bridge in the middle of nowhere.

There were very few people about – just the odd walker, and a group of campers near the bridge, enjoying a bathe in the clear waters just below it.  Whilst we had driven up under blue skies, the air here was humid and midgy, with the high tops doused in light cloud.

The hillsides were colourfully decorated with bright yellow swathes of Bog Asphodel.

My ‘legs’ came off for the ascent to Great Moss, but midge bites forced them back on after the ascent beside Cam Spout.

Here Rick contemplates the (easy) climb, up the rocks to the right of the waterfall.  “If only it was frozen; I could practice my ice climbing” he jested.

The path leveled out again at the top of Cam Spout, but it remained a sweaty climb on this still, humid day, up the hanging valley towards the East Buttress of Scafell.

At the first opportunity we followed a stream emanating from a steep, stony gully, all the way up to Foxes Tarn – a nearly invisible pond that is claimed to be the smallest ‘tarn’ in the Lake District.

The gully was full of the pretty flowers of Starry Saxifrage.

It was deemed appropriate to take a self-timed photo of today’s elite team at Foxes Tarn, the full extent of which is visible in the background!

A short but tiring final pull over loose ground led to the summit of Scafell, where we enjoyed a leisurely lunch with the midges. 

There were quite a few others up here, but none had come from our direction.

After a long pause during which Stuart took a lot of persuading that heading off to the north was not what he had intended, we followed the direction of the white needle of the compass, over Long Green and down to Slight Side.

An elderly man with a dour expression passed us, refusing to acknowledge our presence or our greetings.  It’s a shame that such people should combine their desire for solitude with arrogant rudeness.

Meanwhile, as the rude old man rushed down, we pottered slowly on, admiring the views down to the River Esk, where the river valley and Scar Lathing were bathed in sunshine, backed by the gloomy ridge of Hard Knott.

It was a long but gentle descent back to the valley, across the upper rim of Cowcove before crossing Cat Cove Beck.  We had strayed for too long on the path leading to Stony Tarn, so a cross-country route was deployed.  Then we missed the turn left that we had planned to take beyond the ravine running below Cat Crags.

That left us with no option but to follow the gentler path all the way down to the road above Wha House Farm.  A forest of bracken failed to hinder our progress!

Once down, a short stroll along the road returned us to the car, with good views back up to the high peaks, which were slowly emerging from their misty embrace.  But whilst Bowfell and Cringle Crags are clear in this picture, their freedom was intermittent and was not enjoyed by the Scafells.

Never mind, despite a bit of mist and a few midges, it had been an excellent outing, enhanced by a visit to the Watermill Inn at Ings for some refreshing, locally brewed beer.  We know it was locally brewed because the brewer was plodding around in his wellies. ‘Phil will be envious’ I thought…

Here’s our route – a fairly ‘bog standard (no bogs today)’ route up and down Scafell, but not one that I’ve done for some time.  Very enjoyable, and back home for tea in Timperley by 7.30pm.

Anquet (above) claims 15.5km and 1024 metres ascent for this walk, which took us a leisurely 6+ hours, whilst my Garmin Gadget (see below) recorded 17.25km and only 902 metres ascent.  Who really needs stats anyway? – its just a habit I’m addicted to…

There’s a short slide show here – if you’ve got this far you may be interested!

Sunday 24 July 2011 – The Yorkshire Three Peaks

The idea had been mooted during our recent Dales High Way trip, when Roger and Jacky had shown enthusiasm for a brisk stroll over the Yorkshire Three Peaks, should I be returning to walk that route.

Heather, who features in the annals of TGO Challenge reports, also lives nearby and was happy to get to the Hill Inn for 6.30 am on this sunny Sunday morning.

Well, it was sunny once the mist had dispersed, and Ingleborough stood fresh and clear ahead of us.

Low mist clung to the Lake District fells and lingered in Morecambe Bay, but this was the finest walking weather imaginable, and it took little more than an hour to reach our first objective.

After posing for the group photo at the head of this posting, we ambled back down to the Sulber Nick path to Horton.  Jacky decided that the pace was a bit faster than she would like, so opted to break away and amble back to Giggleswick in her own time.

The three of us weren’t really striding out, but a reasonable pace was maintained down to Horton in Ribblesdale, where we passed the smart railway station and the cafe from where many folk start this walk as a ‘challenge’.

The campsite was busy, and we joined a stream of people going up Pen-y-ghent.

The summit, reached at 10.30, was busy, and it was annoying to watch people ignore the well surfaced path in favour of an older, more direct, route that clearly was recovering from heavy erosion.

Whilst others headed across the boggy depths of Horton Moor and Black Dubb Moss, Heather led us down a ‘yellow brick road’ and over Whitber Hill, where a faint path avoids (in this dry weather) the bogs that are normally a feature of the long plod between Pen-y-ghent and Ingleborough.

I notice that September’s excellent, if rather early, TGO magazine includes a report that a grant of £30,000 has been awarded to the ‘Three Peaks Project’ by the European Outdoor Conservation Association, for work on ‘restoration’ of this section of the Three Peaks Challenge route that sees the boots of over 250,000 people every year.  Subject to landowners’ agreement, it may be our route over Whitber Hill that receives the benefit, rather than the traditional route through the bog.

Today we encountered very little by way of dampness underfoot, though Heather did manage to spread-eagle herself on the path at one point.  It’s a shame it wasn’t boggy just there, as a softer landing may not have resulted in the long graze that she now sports, matching one that Roger acquired earlier in the week. 

Beyond High Birkwith and Nether Lodge, we reached a convenient lump of concrete beside the infant River Ribble.  Time for some lunch.

The short road section to Ribblehead was a bit tedious due to heavy traffic and motorbikes, but on arrival at Ribblehead we were rewarded with the evocative sight of a steam locomotive making its way across the famous viaduct.

The tea van was doing a roaring trade, and whilst Roger and I tucked into welcome 99’s, Heather burnt her throat on a cup of tea.

The path up Whernside passes near the viaduct.  Roger pointed out some metal plaques – one is shown below – which seem to be appearing on the finger posts hereabouts, some bearing no apparent relevance to their location.  From where are they emanating, we wondered?

The ascent of Whernside took a little longer than expected.  Our pace was beginning to slacken.  But it was still early, and there was no hurry, apart from Heather having to do some baking for a Jamboree (or similar?).

There was still no risk of rain, as Roger made it to the top.

We lingered on Whernside’s summit, enjoying the vista, before ambling down to Chapel-le-Dale, eschewing the various establishments that were offering refreshments in favour of beer and tea with Jacky back in Giggleswick.

We had finished at 4.20, completing the 39km (24 mile) circuit in 9 hours 40 minutes.  Not particularly fast, but a lovely walk on a perfect day in excellent company.

Thanks for joining me, folks.

Here’s the approximate route:

Here’s the ‘actual’ route recorded by my Garmin Gadget:

And here (click here) is the 34 image slideshow of all my pictures from the day.

Days in the Yorkshire Dales don’t come any better than this….

Saturday 23 July 2011 – Jake, aged 3 months

Thursday 21 July 2011 – The Salford Trail (Part 5)

Readers may recall previous visits to this trail on 23 February and 23 March.
Having missed Part 4 of the trail, I joined various LDWA stalwarts on the recently published Part 5.  Seven of us set off from a lay-by in Hollins Green.  We were soon joined by the creator of the trail, Roy Bullock, who pointed out the ‘hundred’ marking on the other side of the bridge, denoting the border between Salford and West Derby, two of the six Hundreds of Lancashire.
The hundred of Salford was an ancient division of the historic county of Lancashire, in northern England. It was sometimes known as Salfordshire, the name alluding to its judicial centre being the township of Salford (the suffix -shire meaning the territory was appropriated to the prefixed settlement). It is also known as the Royal Manor of Salford and the Salford wapentake.
The Manor or Hundred of Salford had Anglo-Saxon origins. The Domesday Book recorded that the area was held in 1066 by Edward the Confessor. Salford was recorded as part of the territory of Inter Ripam et Mersam or "Between Ribble and Mersey", and it was included with the information about Cheshire, though it cannot be said clearly to have been part of Cheshire.
The area became a subdivision of the County Palatine of Lancaster (or Lancashire) on its creation in 1182.
So, the history of these parts goes back quite a long way.  There’s more information here (from which the above information has been extracted).
I can’t believe that I failed to photograph ‘Marge and Steel’, the sculpture designed as a gateway into Salford from Warrington. It is symbolic of the Margarine Factory and Irlam Steel Works, one of the biggest in the country, and the contribution made by the local people to the local economy. It is also the first public art on a roundabout in Salford.  The design is based upon an idea developed with the community. Children wanted a modern superhero theme and adults talked about the Steel and Margarine works that used to be here. Retired workers remembered the tea dances they enjoyed. An idea was developed to portray the dance of these two industries which forged people’s lives together in Irlam and Cadishead.
We strolled along between the road and the Manchester Ship Canal.  That was the theme of today’s route.  A high level bridge linking Carrington with Glazebrook was soon reached.  Apparently this used to be a low level bridge across the River Irwell, before the creation of the Ship Canal.  Shortly after the bridge there’s an old shunting engine, fairly recently painted and renovated. Its working life was in the CWS. soap works at Irlam. It had no fire to stoke and its steam reservoir was charged with steam from a boiler in the factory. This avoided the soot and fumes common to other engines. After the closure of the works it fell into disrepair and was due to be scrapped.  Then the local Rotary Club "adopted" the engine and the road building firm building Phase II of the Irlam and Cadishead by-pass (Birse) offered to restore and relocate the engine to a display site by the new road.

The road soon regains the side of the canal, and before passing under another high level bridge, housing the very much alive Manchester to Warrington main line, we observed the entry of the River Mersey into the Ship Canal, at the end of its short journey from Stockport.

Despite being in the industrial heartland of the north west, we were subjected to a short interlude of ‘rain forest?’!

There were lots of flowers to be seen, mostly common to scrubland and meadow, including the Himalayan Balsam shown above, and swathes of Rosebay Willowherb.

Other flowers included vetches, thistles, St John’s wort, ragworts, buddleia, and more.
Emerging from the forest, we headed beside a section of the old bed of the River Irwell that is still full of running water and home to resident swans and ducks.   The river has been incorporated into the Ship Canal, but the Boat House still stands, and, since we were not on a ‘hard core’ LDWA outing, Reg permitted a brief halt for refreshments.  It was a hot day, after all.  Several known addicts would have been unable to walk past the pub anyway.
A little further on, not far from the route of Part 3 of the trail, hordes of workers were busy constructing the City of Salford Stadium, which I understand will shortly be home to ‘Salford City Reds’, a rugby team.

Then we passed under the giant arches of the M60 motorway bridge over the Ship Canal.  It’s rather uglier than the viaducts of the Victorian age, and the graffiti writers must have either very long ladders or a Spiderman kit.

At Barton upon Irwell, where there’s now little evidence of the Irwell, we passed a fish and chip shop reputedly used by Laurel and Hardy when they were in town.  It has changed hands since then.

Across the road, beyond a rather grotty area with a bench where we enjoyed a second lunch and a second instalment of fudge brownies, a swing bridge carries the Bridgewater Canal over the Ship Canal, and indeed over our route, which from here on was on tarmac.

As we strolled on through Eccles, the sky above the International Worship Centre, where we resisted the temptation to call in for refreshments at its café, caught my eye.

We tramped on through Eccles and into the large area of Salford Quays and its splendid regeneration projects.  It all looks rather smart these days – a far cry from a few years ago.  This isn’t far from the docks I visited to see my cousin Philip when he worked as a merchant seaman in the late ‘60s.

The Imperial War Museum North is well worth a visit if you have time.

MediaCityUK looks as if it will be a great place to work, with its own Metrolink station, for all those people from the BBC who are complaining about having to be based there!

We halted for a while outside the Lowry Centre, full today of graduating students in their finery with their doting parents.  Roy went home, but the rest of us enjoyed a coffee, rather incongruous in our walking gear amongst all the smart suits, before moving on to conclude the walk where it started several months ago, outside Salford Quays Metrolink station.
Here’s the route – 16km with minimal ascent.  It took us all day, but less plodding walkers should take 3 to 4 hours over the interesting route.

This entry mentions just a few of the many points of interest on this predominantly urban walk.  Whilst country walks have great merit, outings such as this one can be most educational in an entirely different way.
Roy has written about the Salford Trail in great detail here, and Reg has written up today’s outing here.
There’s a bit more information annotated to this slide show.
Roll on the next ‘Plod’.

Tuesday 19 July 2011 – A Cheshire Ramble

Steve and JJ sometimes lead walks for the East Lancs Group of the Long Distance Walkers Association (LDWA).  They have an idea that the group will enjoy a 15 mile trample across the fields of Cheshire.

These walks are taken seriously.  Much planning is necessary, with many reconnaissance trips to suss out the best route.  Today was one such ‘recce’.

Starting as instructed from King’s Road in Wilmslow, I found myself totally alone, and having no idea of the planned route I decided to start by lapping the car.  I should have known – JJ was driving.  He eventually turned up, deposited Steve and Viv, and rushed off to take delivery of a staircase.

Our route comprised a circuit of Alderley Edge, starting in Wilmslow and heading across Lindow Moss, often visited on these pages, but not from quite this direction.  It’s always good to explore new paths…

JJ was waiting for us, in disguise; the staircase hoax wouldn’t fool us, surely?

I could swear I saw a couple of wallaby and a family of emu in the background – an elaborate hoax, even for JJ.

It had been raining.  The undergrowth, mainly nettles, balsam and willowherb, had been growing apace.  It was sodden.  So were we.  Steve came off best as he had shorts.  But he did get nettle rash.

By and by we came upon the new Alderley Edge by-pass.  The old rights of way have now been re-opened and we found our way across easily.  A local farmer, upset by the whole enterprise and the wide swathe of the new road through prime farmland, had confirmed this to Steve.

Here you can see the new road, with Alderley Edge beyond.

After passing through a tomato factory, we reached the hamlet of Nether Alderley, where there’s an attractive church, St Mary’s, dating from the 14th century.  The yew tree is apparently 1200 years old!  There’s lots more information on this interesting place in this Wikipedia link, extracts from which are reiterated below.

The large building in the graveyard – the Stanley Mausoleum – was built in 1909 by Edward Lyulph, 4th Lord Stanley. He died in 1925 and it contains his ashes and those of his wife, Mary Katherine, who died in 1929. The mausoleum is built in ashlar buff and red sandstone with a Kerridge stone-slate roof. It was designed in the neo-Jacobean style by Paul Phipps, and is rectangular in shape, with two storeys and a three-bay north front. The central bay contains a door, above which is the Stanley crest, a three-light window and a date plaque in the gable. On the sides of the upper storey are three four-light windows. Inside the mausoleum is a white marble sarcophagus.

There’s also a sandstone schoolhouse in the churchyard, built in 1628; the school room was on the ground floor and the schoolmaster's accommodation was above. A large room was added to the rear in 1817, and in 1908 the building was restored and presented to the parish by Lord Stanley.  It is now used as a parish hall and is listed Grade II.

Across the road from the church and from Millbrook Cottage Guesthouse, is Nether Alderley Mill, a National Trust property dating from the 15th century. The watermill is one of only four virtually complete corn mills in Cheshire, and is a grade II* listed building. The mill was in active use until 1939, and was acquired by the National Trust in 1950. A period of extensive renovation followed, although the present machinery is about 100 years old. The mill is powered by a pair of overshot Victorian water wheels arranged in tandem and fed by the mill pond behind the building. The Trust regularly demonstrates grinding flour.

The flagstones of the timber-framed roof, which extend almost to ground level, weigh about 200 tons.

Beyond Nether Alderley, Bradford Lane leads inexorably towards the Edge, climbing imperceptibly to its 190 metre summit.

The route goes through pleasant woodland, though it was very dark here today, under the steely grey clouds.

Alderley Edge has appeared on these pages on several occasions.  Readers may be pleased to learn that I forgot to take any pictures today.

Himalayan Balsam (Impatiens glandulifera) accompanied us for most of today’s walk, soaking us from time to time as we hacked through its water-laden foliage.  If you look carefully you can see a bee, and apparently some bee keepers are great fans of the plant, from which an excellent flavour of honey is said to result.

Eventually we made it to the Bollin Valley Way.  We noticed that the path to our right was still impassable due to a landslip, requiring an alternative route to Prestbury.  There are no such problems in the Wilmslow direction, new stiles and fingerposts having been recently installed.  There are even intricate carvings on this fingerpost, below the circular plaques.

On the outskirts of Wilmslow, JJ eventually appeared, claiming to have taken successful if rather belated delivery of his new staircase.  He was looking friskier than usual!

 
We had seen no other ramblers, but on gaining the byways of Wilmslow we were joined at times by the dog walking fraternity.

The balsam is rampant in the Bollin Valley, and the citizens of Wilmslow are trying to do something about it…

Here’s our route – 25km, with 250 metres ascent, in a little less than 6 hours.  An excellent local stroll for us, but of how much interest to the sturdy chaps from East Lancs LDWA?  We shall see…

A slide show of all 29 pictures taken today is here.

I recorded the route on the Garmin Gadget, the result of which is shown below.  It gives the exact route – perhaps useful to Steve and JJ should they want to transfer it to a GPS or tweak the route, which could easily be extended to encompass an interesting circuit around Styal.

Sunday 17 July 2011 – Training for the Cairngorm Challenge (aka ‘A Wet Day in the Peak District’)

No, I’m not entered for the Cairngorm Challenge. But Richard is entered for the 100km Gold Route, and is trying to build up his fitness for the event on 10 September.  Given the forecast for rough weather, I’d suggested he got some miles into his legs by doing a 65km circuit from home using the canal towpaths and the Trans Pennine Trail, but he insisted on a Peak District rendezvous.

So, we assembled at a picnic spot near Robin Hood’s Cave, below Stanage, on the outskirts of Sheffield.

To our surprise, it wasn’t raining, but the light was flat and very few photos were taken.  Amazingly, Richard’s route was fairly dry, despite yesterday’s rain, although about half of it was along quiet tarmac lanes.  The off-road sections were superb, and no uphill pushes were needed, though he did choose an exceedingly technical descent back to the cars from Stanedge Pole (see points 5 to 1 below).  Richard’s full suspension coped better than my rickety old machine, from which I had to dismount for safety a few times on the rocky sections with drop offs.  Next time I’ll take the easier track below Stanage Edge to join the road at point 327.  Nevertheless, it was good fun.

By the time we reached Stanedge Pole (pictured) on our figure of eight loop, it was indeed raining.

Just as well then, that we chose a relatively short outing taking only just over 2½ hours, as the rain got heavier whilst we luxuriated after the ride in Outside’s café in Hathersage.

Here’s the Anquet ‘take’ on our route – 25km with 666 metres ascent.  I reckon it could easily be done in two hours if you didn’t keep stopping like we did.

I used my ‘Garmin Gadget’ on this occasion, and it produced the following result:

Click on ‘View Details’ if you want to see the full works, and if you roll your cursor over the map you can change the scale.

What fun!

Saturday 16 July 2011 - Training for the Jungfrau Marathon (aka ‘A Wet Day in the Peak District’)

No, I’m not entered for the Jungfrau Marathon. But Alastair is entered, and is trying to build up his fitness for the event on 10 September.  He had done a hilly 13 mile run earlier in the week but had ordered “around 20 miles with at least 1500 metres ascent” for today’s outing. I’d originally planned the Langdale Horseshoe, but this substitute close to home seemed a reasonable FWA (Foul Weather Alternative).

At least ‘Two Hours of Heavy Rain’ were expected, and we timed our 8.30am departure from Tegg’s Nose car park to coincide precisely with the star of the predicted deluge.

In our haste, we omitted to actually go over Tegg’s Nose, and headed straight down the less slippery path towards Clough House and the track around Teggsnose Reservoir.

It was lashing down. A brief spell along the Gritstone Trail took us to Ridgegate Reservoir, from where a gentle ascent (this is a lovely descent in the other direction on a mountain bike) through Macclesfield Forest, close to its south western edge, led to the familiar slabs of the motorway that heads quickly to the fine summit of Shutlingsloe.

As you can see, the views were magnificent.

We took the path that leads south, curving around to descend to Wildboarclough, rather than the precipitous route directly from the summit. The view through the blanket of rain was soon regained.

Past a gaggle of despondent D of E Award students, we paused briefly on a bench by the bridge at Wildboarclough, before going up the road to the east, past St Saviour’s Church, built between 1901 and 1904.

Heading due east along good paths after taking the lane past Crag Hall, the meeting of Cheshire with Staffordshire and Derbyshire was soon attained at Three Shire Heads, a place usually thronging with folk on a summer’s weekend morning. It was deserted. There were very few people ‘out’ today.

The Staffordshire path took a familiar route to Flash. The sandy surface had turned into slurry. I was pleased that the Keen walking shoes I’ve been testing withstood this – the waterproof membrane still seems to be effective, though today I should have employed the ankle gaiters that I use with these shoes for cycling in wet conditions.

The pub in the high village of Flash was not yet open. We had been moving too fast!  This pub, the New Inn, is apparently the 4th highest in England.

Luckily, there’s a tea shop up the road, and another pub, the Knights’ Table (the third highest pub in England), that was open. We chose the tea shop, and indulged in its cakes. I created a small pond with the water from my rucksack cover. Al’s clothes drained to form a larger pond. Describing his outer shell as ‘waterproofs’ would be incorrect. Perhaps they once fitted that description, but judging by the state of the rest of his clothes, his entire wardrobe for today had the absorption qualities of blotting paper.

Luckily, by the time Al had enjoyed a second cuppa, the sky had exhausted itself after ‘Two Hours of Heavy Rain’, and our outer layers (mine are completely waterproof, Al’s are perhaps vaguely wind-resistant) could be stashed for a few minutes as we strolled along to Readyleech Green and the path over Axe Edge Moor to cross the main A537 road. We continued north to reach the lane to Derbyshire Bridge, near where a bedraggled group of Duke of Edinburgh Award children were puzzling over a map and being advised by their mentor, who judging by the stickers on his car was a highly qualified outdoors professional without whom these youths would be lucky to survive a day on the obscure paths of the Peak District. I‘m sure that in days past the children would be allowed to learn from the odd mistake, but these days their every move seems to be closely monitored. (Just an impression; I may be wrong.)

The rain had restarted by the time we reached the Cat & Fiddle, the second highest pub in England.  [The highest, of course, is the Tan Hill Inn.]  More sustenance was taken on board, together with other walkers (just a couple) and bikers (just a couple) in what is usually a busy place.  I just managed a snapshot in between the clouds that regularly descended right down to our feet to douse anyone foolish enough to be out and about.

Shortly before we reached Shining Tor, the high point of the walk, we lunched in the shelter of a high wall.  It didn’t take long.  Al had already scoffed most of his provisions; mine were limited.

We rushed on to Shining Tor.  Al shot straight past the summit and slew to a halt.

He had spotted White Nancy, our next objective, in the far distance.
”My shins are starting to hurt” he announced.  Well, we had been keeping up a fair pace - he was supposed to be training for a marathon.  Anyway, discretion is the better part of valour, so we cut the planned route by a few miles and headed straight back to Tegg’s Nose, via Lamaload Reservoir, which looked as if it badly needed today’s rain.

There were good views towards Shutlingsloe.

We did manage the 20 mile target, but failed miserably to get to 1500 metres ascent.  The route plotted on Anquet shows 33 km (21 miles) with 1269 metres ascent.

But according to my Garmin gadget (see below) the distance was actually 34 km, though we only ascended 934 metres – quite a startling discrepancy.

The rain had cleared dramatically between showers at the end of the walk, which we finished at 4pm.  Here, Al can be seen striding towards the finish, from where the Cambrian Mountains could be seen very clearly, some 100km away.