Charnwood Forest Challenge Walk, part 2

Saturday 22nd December 2007

Continuing the Challenge Walk around Charnwood Forest, from the top of Bardon Hill I returned to the radio mast and walked down the service road taking a footpath on the left when I reached the wide dirt track to walking between the wood and the desolation at the end of the dirt track. These quarries are not like the remains of tiny quarries that one sees in the Lake District or the Peak District as these are modern quarries: huge, horrible places that have made a right mess of the landscape, and are quite depressing. Emerging from the footpath on the edge of Coalville I walked up the hill to a T-junction where I crossed over to an area of rough country marked on the map as the Warren Hills, and is part of the Charnwood Lodge estate. The walk across this small area of unspoilt ground was quite a revelation. I had never been there before, in fact I didn't even know it existed. There were many outcrops dotted around the area and I had an immense desire to climb all over them, but that would have to wait for another day (like Boxing Day when I returned to the area for a play!). Emerging from the open country I walked a short distance along the road before turning left onto a narrow lane that eventually led me to Mount St. Bernard Abbey, which is the half way point of the walk and a convenient place to stop and have my lunch.

After a good rest I started stage three of the walk, which is probably the least interesting stage and also the point where the miles started to take their toil. Emerging from the Abbey driveway I took a footpath opposite down to the picturesque Blackbrook Reservoir and along a track to a road. Now began a prolonged spell of road walking punctuated by short spells across fields, as I walked to a crossroads and decided to go straight across instead of the prescribed turning right that would take me up the hill to the village of Oaks in Charnwood. This diversion seemed pointless as I would then have to come back down the hill again to this same road, so staying on the road saved me a lot of energy just at a point when I felt I had none left. Soon I turned into Lubcloud Farm and climbed over the hill down to a road (the B591) and passed under the M1. Another long stretch of road walking saw me go down a hill and up again as I climbed towards Beacon Hill.

At the Rippin Memorial Walk near Beacon Hill I turned left onto a pretty avenue of trees as I wearily climbed up the hill to the top of Beacon Hill (at 248m), which is a fantastic place that I have visited many times in recent years, but now I was so weary I just found a chair and collapsed into it, and ate something to get my strength back. Eventually I felt refreshed and able to resume the walk down the hill through the woodland to the lower car park where I diverted from the prescribed route which would have required another walk along the road and instead I walked through the park straight to the Broombriggs car park. The prescribed route bypasses the top of Windmill Hill but with most of my strength back after the rest I rushed off up the hill to the remains of a windmill that gives the hill its name. Heading steeply down the hill I walked into the village of Woodhouse Eaves where I found my first shop in 18 miles which was able to resupply me with liquid refreshment. The onward route passed close to the local school and onto fields where I believe I made another mistake. The directions told me to turn right through a gate by the school but I must have gone straight on, however I didn’t realise my mistake for a while.

I still emerged onto a road as I was supposed to, but there was no path directly opposite, however there was one a short distance away so I took this as it seemed to be heading directly for Rushey Field Farm. However, this should have told me something was wrong as the path I should have been on passes to the north of the large farm. When I found a junction of paths I was puzzled as the Leicestershire Round that I thought I was on was actually crossing my path. My compass also failed to tell me what I had done wrong because I still hadn’t realised that I had earlier gone wrong. Eventually I decided to turn right as required but since I had approached on the wrong path I was now in fact taking the path I should have taken from Woodhouse Eaves. When I reached a lane, the same lane I had crossed earlier, now sporting a footpath directly opposite I realised my mistake.

I could have turned back and returned to the junction of paths but I really couldn’t be bothered. I was tired, I was near the end of the walk and it was starting to rain heavily. After walking along the road past the Brand I took the second turning on the right and soon entered Swithland Wood to walk back to my car in the pouring rain. At least I made it back to the car with plenty of daylight remaining, which was one consolation from the walk, as walking on the shortest day of the year may have made things rather difficult if I hadn’t kept up a quick pace. This was obviously a challenging walk that really tested my stamina in the latter stages, however I don’t think it was really that difficult apart from the distance and in better weather it may have been quite fun. Maybe I should repeat the walk in the spring, for now I’m just glad I managed to get around it.

The Charnwood Forest Challenge Walk

Saturday 22nd December 2007

Last Saturday I got up before dawn to do a twenty-five mile walk around the Charnwood Forest, the most wooded and hilly part of Leicestershire. I was using a book I had got out of the library with the above title and written by John Merrill (published by Walk & Write), which describes the walk that starts from Bradgate Park. However I immediately made an alteration to the route as I parked just down the road from the Hallgates car park in the western car park of Swithland Wood where the parking fee is cheaper. The weather was not very good and I would have been better off waiting until the following week to do the walk as it is much better, but instead I had cold and very foggy start to the day and it ended in heavy rain. I knew the weather was not going to be good but I having decided to do the walk at some time during the Christmas holiday I thought I may as well get it over with straight away, and in the end the weather didn't prove to be too much of a problem.

Starting in the dingy mist of dawn I crossed the road and walked up a bridlepath to the edge of Bradgate Park, but, already, I was altering the route as the book recommends an easy start along the tarmacked road through the park that bypasses Old John hill, but to me this was unacceptable so after entering the park at an unorthodox point I proceeded up the hill on one of the many tracks that criss-cross the park, and got lost. Who would have thought that I would need a compass to find my way in Bradgate Park, where I have been umpteen times since I was a baby, but the low mist made navigation a little tricky, despite my detailed knowledge. As it happened as soon as I saw a plantation appearing through the mist I knew I had gone too far and needed to turn back with the compass now merely confirming that I was heading in the right direction. Soon I reached Old John's Tower at top of the hill and passed quickly over to the war memorial on the twin top.

Using my knowledge of the park I was able to head over to a loose collection of trees south of the memorial where I turned right down to a footpath and out of the park. It was interesting to walk through Bradgate Park in these conditions, because I hadn't encountered them there before, unlike on higher hills (Old John is only 212 metres high). Emerging from the footpath in Newtown Linford I continued on with the walk through John's Lee Wood, which has been greatly enlarged in recent years as a result of the National Forest scheme so I passed through young woodland all the way to Tangle Trees Farm, where I made a mistake. The paths diverge at this point and I should have taken the right branch, but instead I took the left branch and once I realised my mistake I decided it wasn't worth retracing my steps. Continuing on this path took me into Markfield, where I had to walk beside the busy A50 dual carriageway until I found a way down the embankment and onto the proper route through woodland beside the road, eventually turning right I climbed gradually up Chitterwell Hill along a narrow lane of thorn bushes.

When I emerged on a road near Copt Oak, instead of heading directly for the village, I was directed back down the hill past Ulverscroft Priory, a ruin in private hands, and up the hill again through Poultney Wood and up very muddy fields to Copt Oak. This was the end of stage one in the book so I took the opportunity to stop, rest and have something to eat. Setting off again I crossed the bridge over the M1 soon taking a path through more muddy fields to Old Rise Rocks, and turning right I headed straight for Bardon Hill, the highest point in Leicestershire. After crossing an avenue of trees I passed over a wide dirt track (a hint of what was to come) and climbed steeply up a rather barren hillside where some wildlife organisation is trying to encourage plants to grow again and animals to return to the area, but they won't have it to themselves. At the top of the hill is a big radio transmitter, and a short walk along the summit ridge brought me to the trig point, and not far from that is a huge fence while beyond the fence, barely discernible in the mist, is the huge Bardon Quarry. Bardon Hill may be the highest point in Leicestershire (at 278m) but Old John and Beacon Hill (seen later) are much more satisfying hills and they have not been exploited. More in  my next post...

Ben Wyvis

Friday 23rd July 2004

At the end of the last day of my first walking holiday in Scotland I was sitting at a vantage point looking out over the railway depot and the Moray Firth towards the Black Isle and realised that I really like Inverness. It’s a good city, which is why I deliberately ended my holiday there so I could visit it again, and I was sad that I was leaving. Before that, I had taken a train to Garve on the Kyle line and headed off on a walk up Ben Wyvis. The first stage was to walk to a series of cascades along the river that culminate at the tourist stop of Silver Bridge. I had been inspired to visit this stretch of river, Black Water, after seeing it on John Butler's End-to-End web site. I don’t know if it’s just me but I wasn’t particularly impressed by it all, even though John was rather enthusiastic. C’est la vie. This picture is from his web site.

From there I proceeded up the farm track opposite (and I only had to climb over two gates!) up onto the flanks of Little Wyvis. I didn’t go to the top which is a pity because it would have given me a purpose to the route that I had taken. When I eventually ran out of track I found myself at the top of a cliff with a wide boggy morass at the bottom where I had thought to walk. Coming to my senses I retraced my steps to the western slopes of the hill and began a precarious descent to the valley bottom and eventually I reached the bottom wetter and muddier than I had been. Immediately I started to climb the good path on the other side all the way up to the southern end of the enormous Ben Wyvis ridge, on An Cabar. Time was advancing so I quickly headed off to the summit of Ben Wyvis, Glas Leathad Mòr, and finally I reached the trig point at two o’clock. My train back to Inverness was due at 16.42, but a long way from where I was crouching in the shelter against a bitterly cold, gale force wind, and so with heavy raindrops falling I rushed off the ridge. 

Once I regained the valley floor the sun came out and during my descent beside the Allt a' Gharbh Bhaid it turned into a glorious day. Typical, and so I had a very pleasant walk in sunny weather following the burn down to the main road and then a quick walk beside the road for over two miles back to Silver Bridge. I still had to rush as the deadline quickly approached, and indeed on the final stretches into Garve I started either running or walking very quickly, although as it happened I got to the station with plenty of time to spare. With such a gloriously sunny day I enjoyed the whole journey to and from the mountain, but not on the windy ridge. In the evening I went back into the city centre and started buying loads of souvenirs of my holiday in Scotland. Despite the rain I had enjoyed my holiday and a fortnight walking in Scotland was now a regular fixture in my year.

Great Glen Way, part 2

Thursday 22nd July 2004

To continue my walk along the Great Glen Way, the plan that I'd come up with the day before, starting from Drumnadrochit, was carried out, but there was a problem: I overslept again! Having my breakfast sans a cup of tea (and eating someone else’s Cheerios that had been left in the spare food hole thus solving my breakfast problem) and missing my wash meant I was able to get to the bus stop in plenty of time, and without leaving anything behind, which after my poor start to the day I didn’t seem to be doing anymore, God willing. I took the bus to Drumnadrochit and had a look around but at 9 am everywhere was still shut, so with little delay I headed off onto the Great Glen Way along the road. I must say that this walk was very long and boring, and even at one stage I had to walk four miles along a road. By the end my knee was aching and I had developed my first blister of the holiday.

When I finally reached Inverness I headed straight for a bookshop I remembered from previous visits for a browse of their enormous collection. Later, after a look around the rest of Inverness I tried to find a supermarket, eventually finding Safeway (now known as Morrison's) behind the station, and bought my dinner and lunch for the next two days. When I tried to find the hostel I had a few difficulties because although I knew the general area I didn't know precisely where it was. After over half an hour's wandering I asked at a newsagents and was told that I’d almost walked straight past it as it’s close to Safeway! Once finally at the hostel I had a shower and a lovely dinner before heading back out again into the city centre for a wander around the lovely city of Inverness. When I tried to get back to the hostel I had a familiar problem: I couldn’t find it! Retracing my steps I suddenly remembered that it was on Victoria Drive, which is a rather vital piece of information. The next day I was planning on catching a train to Garve and try to walk up Ben Wyvis. If the good weather I was enjoying since I left the West Highlands continues I hoped I will have no problems, we’ll see.

Great Glen Way, part 1

Wednesday 21st July 2004

On my first walking holiday in Scotland  after doing the West Highland Way, I had planned to do the Great Glen Way, but the previous evening I had considered walking up the Mamores, but in the end, for some reason, I didn’t wake up till 8.40 so I would have found it difficult to catch the 9.25 bus, unless I hurried, which I really couldn’t be bothered to do because the weather was awful; it was raining and there were very low clouds over the hills, so I chickened out of walking in the Mamores and went back to plan A. Frankly, I just didn’t want to be not getting to the Loch Ness Youth Hostel until 7.30 p.m. as I don’t like messing around on public transport at the end of a tiring day's walk. I think a car would be much easier when in the Highlands because the area is so large.

Back to this walk, I headed into Fort William and caught a bus to Fort Augustus, where, after buying lunch, I headed off along the Great Glen Way beside Loch Ness. The weather had improved enormously now that I was away from the mountains of the West Highlands as it was now hot and sunny and I was wearing sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, with loads of sun cream. I had my lunch overlooking Loch Ness and it was just as I remembered from when I was last in the area in 2000: an eerie looking loch with hidden secrets under its surface. No one would call it a beautiful loch, like Loch Lomond, but it does attract your attention. Going further along the trail I descended into the small, picturesque village of Invermoriston before ascending the steep hill opposite and continuing along the trail to the Loch Ness Youth Hostel at Alltsigh.

As lovely as the weather was for this walk it wasn't that enjoyable as it kept largely to forestry tracks so I was in doubt on what to do the next day. I certainly didn’t want to walk all thirty miles to Inverness or get there late, so I was thinking of catching a bus to Drumnadrochit and starting from there.

Ben Nevis for the first time

Tuesday 20th July 2004

The first time I went up Ben Nevis was immediately after walking the West Highland Way and frankly I wasn’t impressed. While considering the ascent afterwards I decided that the problem was that the path is too easy, a bridlepath for tourists and I got very little thrill out of it. There are too many zigzags that mean it isn’t very steep at any point, in fact it took me almost as long to go up as I did coming back down. I was finished in less than five hours! And then there’s the summit: besides the trig point and the well-known ruin of an observatory there is a war memorial, which is good, except that it’s been littered by dozens of personal memorials left by many people over the last five years. It’s beginning to look like a dumping ground complete with badges, banners and the pictures of tragically departed children. The worst thing about these personal memorials is that the older, more important, memorials have been callously cast aside and broken. I was not desperate to go up again. Back down I visited the Glen Nevis Visitor Centre again before heading back to the hostel where I considered what to do for the rest of the holiday. The weather forecast for this walk was for a good start but deteriorating later (it was still raining when I wrote the first draft of this entry in the hostel later in the afternoon, and it actually started raining while I was on the summit). The forecast for the next day looked like it may clear as the day progressed, so an idea occurred to me to do a walk in the hills to the south of Glen Nevis, in the Mamores, before heading to Fort William and catching a bus to Loch Ness. Certainly the Great Glen Way didn't appeal to me, which is what doing the West Highland Way had taught me. I have been up Ben Nevis again since this report was originally written (the picture above was taken on that return trip, in much better weather) and I have to say that I enjoyed the ascent much more the second time as I went up via the CMD arête. The report on that trip is here.

West Highland Way, part 6

Monday 19th July 2004

I had finished the West Highland Way at last, and all I wanted to do now was be able to do some real walking up a mountain. I started my last day on the trail by having breakfast at a nearby inn, which was a very nice place and the breakfast was very tasty. The start of the West Highland Way was a very steep climb through midge-infested woods, which I did not enjoy. Midges have been the worst thing about the trail as even though I did have insect repellent with me, I was most often attacked while I asleep. I had bites in many places but they weren’t gained while walking. The worst places were while walking at the foot of Ben Lomond (between Rowardennan and Inversnaid) and at Kinlochleven, but in the evening anywhere could be bad if you left a window open. It made me wonder how the locals coped, or maybe they're just tough Scots!

The walk joined the old military road through Lairigmór around the side of the valley past the ruins of the Lairigmór house. This part of the Way was a little dull and hard-going under foot with many large stones to walk on until eventually I entered a wood, but not before the weather threw up one of it’s best ones as the early rain cleared and the sun came out leaving me so hot I had to take my waterproofs off, only for it to cloud over within minutes and start raining again. Typical Scotland! The walk through the wood was varied and sometimes interesting but it was just too long so it was with some relief when I eventually emerged on the other side to face the Ben. I was planning on walking up Ben Nevis the next day, but I was not really looking forward to it as I was worried about how difficult it would be. I didn't really want to do it but I guess it is just one of those things you have to do. The weather may not be brilliant for it, but I hoped I would be able to cope.

First though, I had a walk to complete. Wearily I made my way along the road into Fort William and the end of the West Highland Way, but there was no fanfare or welcoming reception for me when I reached the end, beside a busy roundabout. This was my first proper long-distance walk and I was not impressed. I think I’m a much better designer of walks so maybe in future I’ll just do my own. In Fort William I looked around the tacky Highland Centre and bought a card for the parents, plus a miniature bottle of Ben Nevis Scotch. I wonder how many more miniatures I can collect? In the centre of Fort William I bought some food for dinner and lunch for the next day when I was planning on going up Ben Nevis, whatever the weather.

West Highland Way, part 5

Sunday 18th July 2004

The weather for this walk on the West Highland Way was much more changeable than the earlier days, at one moment it would be raining, and the next the sun was shining, consequently my waterproofs stayed on almost all the time. I didn’t leave the West Highland Way Sleeper particularly early because I stayed for breakfast on the station and then once I did get started I didn't go very quickly as I just couldn’t get comfortable! This is very important when walking and I was just not able to feel right, which was made worse by insect bites in just the wrong place and straps that wouldn’t go in the right place. Add to that, for some reason, I had decided to wear my fleece even though the day before I hadn’t worn it, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. So why did I put the fleece on now? Eventually I took the fleece off and never looked back as I raced past Inveroran Hotel and past the great desolate area of Rannoch Moor. This is an awe-inspiring place, so it is a pity that the path was so busy. 

 

After lunch on the bridge by the Kingshouse Hotel I headed towards the top of Glen Coe surrounded by absolutely stunning scenery that is dominated by the blunt end of Buachaille Etive Mór. At the bottom of the Devil’s Staircase I took my waterproof coat off, stripped down to my t-shirt and raced up the staircase. I timed myself and I took just half an hour, and it didn’t start raining until I got to the top, which was nice of the weather. With my waterproofs now back on I headed down into Kinlochleven on terrain that I can finally describe as real walking, as it is the sort that I’m used to finding in the Lake District. I was hoping for a chance to do some proper walking up a mountain later in this holiday, but the weather on this walk was not too good, so maybe in the second week of my holiday I would find some good weather. Meanwhile I spent the night at the Blackwater Hostel and then I would have just one more day of the West Highland Way to go.

West Highland Way, part 4

Saturday 17th July 2004

It was very wet at the start of my fourth day on the West Highland Way and it was just as wet in the afternoon, nevertheless it was a good day. I do seem to have a serious problem, though, with going slowly, or is it just that fourteen miles is far too short a distance for me to walk in one day? I left Crianlarich late having gotten up later than usual and proceeded up the hillside and rejoined the West Highland Way at the crossroads where I'd left it the day before. The trail continued to climb until from the highest point I had good views over the valley before slowly I began to descend back down to the valley floor.

 

I got to Tyndrum about lunchtime and loitered around having a good look around the outdoors store trying to decide if there was anything I could possibly need. Then I went to the mini-market and did likewise. After eating my just-bought lunch I headed up the path to walk beside the railway line slowly heading towards Bridge of Orchy via the Auch Gleann Horseshoe. It was amazing to see this astonishing railway feature from the ground after previously only seeing it from the train, and seeing it in the rain didn’t lesson it’s effect. Eventually I reached Bridge of Orchy and after looking at the bridge in glorious sunshine (curse the weather!) I returned to the station where I was spending the night, in the bunkhouse on the platform, which is an extraordinary place to stay. The next day I would have another twenty mile walk to do which would take me all the way to Kinlochleven. Sixty miles were already done, and I did not have far to go to Fort William.

West Highland Way, part 3

Friday 16th July 2004

This was a long, tiring day on the West Highland Way, but I still got to my destination before 4.30 so maybe I should have taken things a little slower. I would have to slow down the next day because I was only walking fourteen miles as opposed to the twenty-one on this walk. I left Rowardennan at 8.30 and headed quickly along the forest track. Four miles of my total was passed by in just over an hour on a dull, unchanging trek along forestry tracks, but that was about to change as the path narrowed and the going got rough. The path to Inversnaid was tough but walkable and not even rain and billions of midges could stop me. This section of the Way seemed to have the worst swarms of midges but they didn’t bother me once I sprayed myself with Insect Repellent, which I knew would come in handy eventually! The path continued, rough as ever if not rougher, particularly around Rob Roy’s Cave where a very steep clamber over rocks was necessary, but it was fun in the wet. The tricky path continued along the side of Loch Lomond, until eventually I had to say goodbye to the loch on easier paths over a low hill and down to Inverarnan.

Picture by John Butler:
I didn’t need to go to Inverarnan as it is off the route by almost a mile, but it was lunch time and I had plenty of time so I walked to the Drover's Inn and had a ‘Toastie’ and orange juice. I wasted almost an hour by this diversion and all I succeeded in doing was bringing me back to schedule. The remaining seven miles to Crianlarich was along a good path past rapids and waterfalls until I passed under the railway line and road, and climbed up the side of the valley on an old military road. I don’t know if it is a deliberate gesture by the Scots against a symbol of English domination, but the track was covered with animal mess, which made this one of the trickiest sections of the day as I tried to avoid the muck, which was occasionally unavoidable. Eventually I reached a crossroads where the trail turns left and I went right steeply down into Crianlarich where there is a good hostel even though was full of foreigners. Still, Crianlarich is a good village that I had been to before due to the locality of a railway station. The next day was going to be an easy walk to Bridge of Orchy and the railway would be with me the whole way.

West Highland Way, part 2

Thursday 15th July 2004

My catalogue of losses while walking the West Highland Way continued to build on this walk. As I was packing in the morning I realised that I didn’t have my shampoo, which is not an original occurrence. Checking in the shower, however, failed to find it so I was feeling a little happy to see the last of Balmaha when I left, which is a shame as it’s a nice village and I enjoyed myself there the previous evening, but it was tainted by my carelessness. That is tragic as the village certainly does not deserve it. On this day I walked just seven miles along the West Highland Way passing through woodland beside Loch Lomond and over steep headlands. It was a good walk with plenty of variety, but before long I was at the Rowardennan Car Park at the foot of Ben Lomond, and in the rain.

After a moment to question my sanity I headed up the steep path that climbs through woodland and onto the moorland. Fortunately the rain soon cleared and I had an enjoyable time walking along the not too steep path in open country with tremendous views of Loch Lomond behind me. As I neared the top it started raining, the clouds descended and going became steeper so when I finally reached the summit of my first Munro it was very cold, wet and windy, which was not very pleasant. After eating my lunch I got my gloves out and put my waterproof trousers on, but some idiot had packed them at the bottom of my rucksack, which did not put me in the best of moods. In view of the poor weather, I decided to abandon my plan to descend via Ptarmigan and returned the way I had come. The rain soon stopped (naturally) and I had a pleasant descent until I started overheating in my waterproofs. It eventually started raining again, though only lightly, before I reached the wood, which did not help.

By the time I reached the car park I was seriously overheated, so it would have helped if I’d had any water left (!), but I suppose I also should have walked more slowly and taken breaks during the descent, but that's just typical of me. When I recovered I went to the Rowardennan Hotel, where I had a couple of drinks and by the time I returned to the nice, secluded hostel the sun had come out, which is just typical. The next day was going to be a big walk: twenty miles to Crianlarich over what is considered to be the toughest part of the West Highland Way. I couldn't wait! It sounded like fun.

West Highland Way, part 1

Wednesday 14th July 2004

My first walking holiday in Scotland was three years ago and began with a walk along the West Highland Way, but it did not start well, though there were some good moments. Before starting the walk I got some money out of the bank as I would not reach another bank until I got to Kinlochleven, but I had already spent half of it!. When I got to Milngavie it was raining so after buying a sandwich for my lunch I donned my waterproofs and started the West Highland Way. Initially, I made very good progress over almost flat country with the first six miles being covered in one hour forty minutes, but then I stopped off at the Glengoyne Distillery, since, well, I couldn’t resist it. I had a wee dram – very nice, good thing I wasn’t driving – and bought a miniature bottle to add to my collection. Last time I was in Scotland I bought a Highland Park Scotch, and now I have a Glengoyne.

I resumed my walk along the Way along a disused railway line for another three miles until I came off onto a road where I encountered some gradients and my mileage dropped. I reached the twelve mile point, in Drymen, at about lunch time so I had something to eat, and by now my legs were beginning to ache, but after eating I kept going and climbed into the Garadhban forest. The rain at the start of the walk had quickly stopped to be replaced by intermittent sunshine that was really good walking weather. Coming out of the forest I got my first real look at Loch Lomond while on the trail and it took my breath away. I had a fantastic view along the line of islands on the Highland Fault that could be easily seen stretching across the loch. This is what it is all about. There followed a highly pleasurable moorland crossing over to Conic Hill as I passed on to and around the hill. [The picture below was not taken by me, unlike all the other pictures featured in my blog. When I walked the West Highland Way I didn't have a camera with me so I have none of my own pictures to use. The picture below, of the scene across Loch Lomond from Conic Hill, was taken by John Butler and features on his excellent web site End to End Walk. It is being used by kind permission.]

The descent down to Balmaha was easy, and it had taken me less than seven hours to do the whole nineteen miles. It was a good, enjoyable walk, so what was wrong with it? Well, at the end of the walk is a visitor centre wherein I managed to lose my maps. An extensive search failed to locate the missing maps so I had to buy replacements. It was fortunate that they had them there, but it was a huge expense that I hadn’t anticipated. And then there was where I stayed: Bunkhouse Lodge. I didn’t really know what to expect so I was surprised to find a room all to myself, although admittedly it wasn’t very big! My next cockup was with some cans I had bought from the local shop for dinner only to find out that there no kitchen facilities are provided in the bunkhouse. Oops! Instead I had to have something to eat in the nearby pub, which was much more expense, and since the bunkhouse did provide breakfast and packed lunches there was even more expense. Therefore I had already spent £37 from the £50 that I had taken out of the bank in the morning. I supposed that the cans would do for the next day and for now I had just treated myself to eating-out, so it’s just a pity that I hadn’t planned it that way.

The day actually ended quite well as I took a walk along the banks of Loch Lomond to Craigie Fort. It was wonderful watching the sun setting over Loch Lomond while listening to Runrig through my earphones (who were incidentally also being played at the distillery shop). When I returned to Balmaha there was a Highland band playing so I just sat under a tree watching the proceedings in the glorious evening sunshine. All in all it was not such a bad day, except for one or two things.

Sherwood Forest

Saturday 17th November 2007

This year I decided that I wanted to do more walks than in previous winters when I have tended to vegetate and put on weight. I am always desperate for the spring when I can get back out and enjoy myself, well not this year. With no more holidays until Christmas Saturdays are my only opportunity for fun so whenever the weather forecast is favourable I am going out for a walk, however I am not going far. I find it frustrating when the time spent driving to a walk is longer than I actually spend walking (plus with the soaring price of petrol it’s not cheap). To prevent this I have drawn a circle on a map, centred on my home town, with a radius of 50 miles and declared that I’ll only do walks within that area. The walk I did in Dove Dale a couple of weeks ago was just inside this circle, even though the actually driving distance was 60 miles. This walk was a similar distance away but unlike Dove Dale it was in an area I had never actually been before: Sherwood Forest.

I find it amazing that I was never taken to this area as a child whereas the Peak District was done to death, so with bright sunshine forecast I set off early and I was in the village of Edwinstowe for 9.30 and heading towards the Major Oak. Robin Hood supposedly hid under this tree, but I had never visited it, so I now corrected this oversight in my upbringing by heading straight for the Major Oak, passing many other old oak trees on the way. The vast majority of trees in this country are not very old, so to be passing these huge, old trees was a humbling experience, but none of them compared with the sight of the Major Oak when I arrived. Forget about Robin Hood as it is silly to think this particular tree has had any association with the outlaw, even if he actually existed, but this is still a huge, really impressive looking tree that deserves all the attention bestowed on it even without it’s supposed legendary history. All trees are special, but this one commands special treatment for its great age, regal poise and majesty, and it’s sheer enormity.

With reluctance I left the Major Oak and headed through the forest joining a bridlepath as it proceeded northwards and entered Budby South Forest. With hindsight I should have stayed within the country park, as instead I was passing an army training ground on an old track through a wilderness with few trees. I was fenced in and couldn’t really enjoy the open scenery, even though it was amazing to see such unspoilt country in Nottinghamshire of all places. On returning back to the edge of the forest I walked along a cycle way to Hazel Gap and there I followed the Robin Hood Way into Duncan Wood and along Freeboard Lane until I reached the A614. During this time the sun had come out, as promised, and revealed a lovely day to be out walking, but unfortunately it wouldn’t last. Heading north for a short distance I rejoined the Robin Hood Way and entered Clumber Park, a National Trust property that is apparently a popular tourist attraction (even though I'd never heard of it).

Dropping down to a minor road I crossed a ford and entered Hardwick Village coming up to the picturesque Clumber Lake. I really wish I had taken my camera (no batteries - the picture of the Major Tree above was taken off the internet) as the views across the lake were stunning with the sunlight sparkling off the lake and with a wide sweep of trees on the other side. Following the Robin Hood Way, I walked around the edge of the lake through the trees and towards the visitor centre. Along the way the skies clouded over and as I was having lunch it even rained; the sunny weather that I'd been hoping for hadn’t lasted very long. Quickly departing from the depressing tourist trap I continued along the lake shore as far as Clumber Bridge where, on the other side, I found a narrow path through the trees and continued my walk beside the lake that was now little more than a river. At Carburton Bridge I plunged into the trees again and joined the Carburton Border track on the edge of the park, and at a sign on the right that said “Welbeck Estate, No Public Access” I turned onto the forest track. In Scotland such signs wouldn’t be allowed as there is a right to roam anywhere, but in England and Wales this is not the case, and I think it is shameful. Technically I was trespassing on this track, but I was only passing through, and what harm was I doing? It’s silly. Crossing a road I followed a bridlepath through the woodland in the rest of the Welbeck Estate back to the Hazel Gap.

Rejoining the Robin Hood Way again, I walked through the Gleadthorpe Plantation, over the River Meden, and back into the Sherwood Forest Country Park. Walking beside Busby South Forest, which I had been through earlier, I went to the Centre Tree (whatever that is) and turning left I made straight for the Major Oak again. After another look at this majestic oak tree I followed the bridlepaths back into Edwinstowe just as the light was failing. This was a long walk, but I can’t help being a little disappointed by it. I had passed through an awful lot of woodland and once the weather had greyed my enthusiasm dimmed with it. I think it was maybe too long a walk with too little variation in my surroundings. It may be alright to walk for 7 or 8 hours over mountains but woodland gets a little monotonous for that long with nothing to see but trees all day.

High Level Round of Dove Dale

Saturday 3rd November 2007

With the autumn well advanced all mountain walking was now on hold until the spring (I don't like really walking in the winter as the weather can get really bad this time of the year, however, I just don’t have any holidays left till Christmas), but I can still go for easy walks that are not far from where I live and the Peak District is always good for an easy walk. I got this walk from the Walking Britain website which is a good source of easy walks (well, easy for me) and is more importantly, free. The walk started from the big car park near Thorpe Cloud which I have previously vigorously avoided, mainly because you have to pay (but it was only £2 so what was the fuss about?). During previous visits to the area I have parked in the free car park on the other side of Thorpe despite needing to climb back over the hill at the end of the walk. Thankfully that wasn’t necessary for this walk.

Right at the start of the walk I climbed Thorpe Cloud, which is something I have not done on almost all my previous visits to the area, in fact I had been up Thorpe Cloud only once before and that was over twenty years ago when I was a child. The route I now took though was much rougher than the one I’d taken all those years ago as after crossing the footbridge I headed straight up the hill on the edge of the steep ridge. The rocks under foot were very slippery which made the going rather perilous and at the summit (if one can use such a word for a hill less than 1000 feet high) the rocks were very slippery so traversing the summit ridge was also rather tricky but this was easy compared with the descent.

There is a clear path straight down to the stepping stones that is very steep and rocky and in the damp weather it was almost lethal. Despite my utmost care I slid down the hill and at one point I slipped over; I’m sure most of the time the path is fine but on this day not only me but everyone else was finding it very difficult. I must say I was wearing old walking boots that I'd not worn since they split at the heel while on the Isle of Arran last Easter (and for some reason hadn’t thrown out). I was trying to see whether they were worth keeping and it could be said that the sole has actually worn out giving me no grip at all on the wet rocks (but did they ever?). At the end of the walk both my feet were soaked and not just from the slit at the back, so the boots are now in the dustbin.

Eventually I did manage to get down the hill to the famous Stepping Stones in Dove Dale and after a hop across, and back again, I proceeded along the valley. Soon I left the crowds behind and took a path up the eastern side of the valley onto a clear, but narrow path high above the valley floor. On reading the route description I had assumed I would be staying on the main path until I got to the Lover’s Leap and I only really took this narrow path because it looked more interesting. Re-reading the description it appears I was going the right way, but this path did not go to Lover’s Leap, which I believe is lower down near the bottom of the valley. My path came out onto open grassland and petered out high above Lover’s Leap, and certainly did not start at Lover’s Leap.

After admiring the view up and down the valley I headed further up the hillside towards Moor Barn which was clearly visible. As I approached the barn the gloomy, damp weather decided it had had enough and the clouds broke to reveal a lovely, sunny day for the rest of the walk. A concessionary path, signposted to Tissington, now materialised despite not being on the map so I followed this past the barn and on to a right of way (just as the description said) which I followed north through many grassy fields. I’ve got to say I didn’t find this section of the walk particularly interesting as walking through fields holds no interest for me. I prefer wild, uncultivated country where man's interference has been kept to a minimum.

Eventually I reached Shining Tor with its outstanding views of Dove Dale both north and south where I just had to stop and admire the views, so I also had my lunch. Onward I descended into Milldale where the crowds were so thick I quickly escaped up a path that was marked as dangerous. I think I would have taken this path even if it wasn’t on my route since the look of it was just too tempting to ignore. A steep tricky ascent carried me high out of the village before slowly descending back down into the valley heading south on the western side of the river, the opposite side from all the crowds. The path became very tricky when approached the river and would obviously be impassable following heavy rain, but I had no such problems on this walk as I gingerly made my way south.

Upon reaching Hall Dale the path improved and half way to Ilam Rock I left the valley bottom to climb steeply up the hillside. The route description I was following said that I would reach the Rock before climbing and the map seemed to agree, but that is maybe no longer the case as the path zigzagged steeply up the hillside on a manufactured path to the edge of the wood. There now followed an enjoyable walk just inside the wood high above the valley that all too soon ended at a gate that led me out of the wood. Again the map seemed to be incorrect as it claims the path descends steeply into the wood at this point, but instead the path maintained a level course below a farm track just above the tree line before swinging around Air Cottage and joining the farm track.

Arriving at Ilamtops Farm the route description claimed I would now see a signed right of way, but I saw none and when I followed the route indicated on the map I came across a locked gate. Firm in my conviction that I was going the right way I climbed this gate and proceeded on to Bunster Hill, and again I had to climb over a fence to get onto the Access Land. Give me Open Country any day. Passing over several tumuli I eyed the narrow grassy ridge of Bunster Hill and greedily decided that I would go over the eastern ridge to savour its delights. Oh dear. The southern ridge would have been better idea because the eastern ridge has a bit of a flaw as there is no route down from the end. Near the bottom the ridge widens before ending in rocky cliffs with bramble-filled sheer slopes. Of course all this still didn’t stop me and when I'd decided that I’d gone far enough I tried to descend the extremely steep bramble-filled south-eastern slopes. Why do I do this to myself? Eventually I made my way across the slopes (any direct descent was impossible) to the easier, though still very steep, south-western slopes. Descent was now quick and relatively easy with the car park only a short distance away. This was a good and even rather tricky walk, which shows that even the Peak District can throw up some challenges.

Miller’s Dale and Monsal Dale

Monday 8th October 2007

With a day off work, instead of walking in some far off place, I had visited my brother and sister over the weekend, then with a day to fill before going to a concert in Nottingham I decided to go for a walk in the Peak District, to the place of many walks from my childhood and beyond. There are few places in the Peaks I haven’t been so I didn’t try to find one of those places, instead I did a nostalgic walk in an area much visited in my childhood, though little since. I parked at the Lees Bottom car park on the A6 in Monsal Dale, which I remember using before when I walked to the start of the Monsal Trail at Wye Dale and then walked all the way to Monsal Head. My plans now were a little more modest. Crossing the road I took a path through the trees climbing steeply up the hillside onto a tongue of land that separates Taddington Dale and Monsal Dale. Passing through Brushfield Hough I reached a byway and turned left to walk through the lower, middle and top farms of Brushfield. Continuing along the byway I climbed above High Dale and passing over the headland I descended through a nature reserve into Miller’s Dale.

Now my childhood memories came flooding back as the view of the valley below with Ravenstor Youth Hostel also visible evoked memories of walking in the Peak District as a child that must have kindled my love of walking now. Dropping down the hill I reached the Monsal Trail, an old railway line that once ran between Matlock and Buxton. Crossing the line I took the path down to Litton Mill, which I remember as being a derelict, eerie place, but has now been transformed into luxury apartments. However, I don’t think the air of the place has been improved as to me it still feels oppressive. Beyond the old mill the character of the scenery improved drastically as man's oppression was replaced by a delightful walk through the fantastically narrow Miller’s Dale. The river trickling by, with low cliffs either side of the valley through dense woodland gave me a very satisfying and pleasurable feeling that added to the nostalgia that I have about walking through this valley; Miller’s Dale is a wonderful place that will always have a special place in my memories.

Eventually the river widened and the valley opened out into Water-cum-Jolly Dale, a glorious place, before I reached Cressbrook Mill, which although a nicer place than Litton Mill has also been turned into luxury apartments. Beating a hasty retreat I climbed back up to the railway line that had been inaccessible as it passed through closed tunnels (they were opened in 2011). Continuing along the Monsal Trail I passed the site of Monsal Dale Station and over Monsal Viaduct, which is an iconic picture of the line. Beyond the viaduct I climbed up to Monsal Head and took a look at the panoramic views of the valley as it sweeps around the corner. Descending from Monsal Head I took a path through the wood down into Monsal Dale and across the river by a footbridge. All that now remained for me was to have a pleasing walk through Monsal Dale, which is wider than Miller’s Dale and not as thrilling but still enjoyable and took me back to my car. This walk shows that one doesn’t really need to go up a mountain to have a thoroughly enjoyable walk.

Gowbarrow Fell

Saturday 15th September 2007

Once again during my journey, this time back from Scotland, I stopped off in the Lake District for a rest and a walk. I picked a fell that is not far from Penrith so gave me easy access from the motorway and is very popular, but few of the people who park in the large National Trust car park at Park Brow Foot actually go to the summit. I defied convention by actually going to the top of Gowbarrow Fell, and started by heading from Park Brow Foot on a path that heads away from the beck across the southern flanks of the fell overlooking Ullswater. Unfortunately the weather was poor, overcast and with the highest fells under cloud, but that was having little effect on my appreciation of the surroundings. Veering left I took a path that climbs the fellside to the south-eastern corner of the fell and the top of Yew Crag. After surveying my surroundings from the cairn at the top of the crag for a while, I headed off along the northern flanks of the fell. This was proving to be a fabulous walk as the path hugged the side of the bracken-covered fell gradually gaining height. I passed the ruins of an old shooting hut and turned west towards the summit crossing wetter ground until I reached the summit crag. Climbing atop this rocky outcrop I arrived at the trig point and the summit to tremendous views all around me, and despite the full car park no one else was there. With time progressing I missed out Wainwright's recommended descent over Green Hill and took a direct course down the fell to the river. I had a feeling that was where everyone else would be.

Descending steeply through the wet bracken I eventually reached a path that follows the river high above the narrow valley. Turning right I climbed up the path for a short distance before dropping steeply down to the river where I began to see where all the people were. Crossing a bridge I had a look at a fabulous gorge in the river and a waterfall, High Force, which I'd never seen before. It was really picturesque and I took loads of pictures as I slowly walked down beside the river, but there still didn't seem enough people to explain the full car park. Of course there was an obvious answer to that question which was answered when I reached another gully with an even larger waterfall: Aira Force. This was where everyone was, beside probably the best, most spectacular waterfall in the Lake District, and rightly the most popular. I have been there before but it is still an amazing sight and one that merited many pictures. Unfortunately my time was almost up in the car park and I had my niece's first birthday party to go to. Heading back to my car I reflected on what has been another great holiday. If only I didn't have to go back to work.

Stob Ghabhar

Friday 14th September 2007

My last walk of the holiday had variable weather from heavy rain at times to bright sunshine at other times and clear blue skies. I was walking in the Black Mount, a group of hills that I had walked past while doing the West Highland Way three years ago and yearned to be at the top of them rather than below. This was my chance to achieve that desire, but unfortunately I was only able to do half the Munros in the Black Mount, so the others will have to wait for another day. For this walk I parked at the Victoria Bridge car park near Bridge of Orchy and immediately I was plagued by midges. I'd been lucky this year with midges having not seen any on Skye in July and obviously none at Easter. It's surprising that I'd not previously experienced any on this holiday, but they were about to make amends. Quickly I finished getting ready and rushed off across Victoria Bridge as I tried to outpace the 'Wee beasties,' but whenever I stopped they resumed their attack.

Walking beside the river Abhainn Shira on a landrover track I reached a mountaineer's hut where a path headed up the hillside and a board detailed the restrictions in place due to deer stalking. It also surprised me that it had taken until now for deer stalking to cause a problem for me, but now it was severely restricting my movements. Taking a note of the details I headed up the, at times, boggy path beside the Allt Toaig enduring intermittent rain as I ascended. After a while I turned off to the right and climbed an even boggier path towards Stob a' Choire Odhair, and eventually, after a long walk across the broad top, I reached the summit where I was rewarded with amazing views over Rannoch Moor that was a awe-inspiring. The top of this Munro is a perfect place to view this huge marsh-land in all it's glory.

Turning my back on the moor I headed off the hilltop and descended the rocky western ridge to the bealach with Stob Ghabhar. At this point I had a look at Ralph Storer's book to check my route and discovered that I was supposed to cross the corrie to my right and then climb the ridge opposite. But this was not covered on the routes allowed due to deer stalking. Taking a look around me I thought "What the hell...", and headed off across the top of Coire Dhearbhadh. The pathless wet traverse took me across the Allt Coire Dhearbhadh and then suddenly I stopped dead. High above me on the ridge I was about to climb up was a small pack of deer. I suddenly felt incredibly guilty for they were all running away from me down the valley. When they had gone, and with enormous trepidation, I started climbing the ridge to the spot where the deer had been. All I really wanted was to get off this part of the hillside that I was not supposed to be on.

At the top of the ridge, at Aisre nan Each, I had my lunch while gazing out over Rannoch Moor seeing successive rain showers passing over the huge bog. As I ended my lunch the rain came upon me and fell heavily as I climbed the grass and rock ridge to the top of Sròn nan Giubhas. Just as I was hoping the rain was going to be as short lived as the previous showers I noticed blue skies to the north and hoped the rain would soon end, but that wasn't all. The blue skies that I had glimpsed were just a foretaste of what was to come. As I arrived on the wide summit plateau the sun came out turning everything into a very nice day with clear views across to all the mountains around me, including Ben Nevis on the horizon. Skirting around the top of the corrie with Coirein Lochain twinkling below I climbed up to the summit of Stob Ghabhar.

Once at the summit I was amazed by the stunning views that I could see all around me of mountains in all directions except across Rannoch Moor. The best views were to the north encompassing some of the highest and best looking mountains in the country, especially those around Glen Coe and Glen Nevis. I was mesmerised and couldn't help thinking that this was my last mountain of the year. I went home the next day and I would not get to see views like this again till next year. I didn't want to leave, but eventually, and with great reluctance, I left the summit and descended the narrow ridge eastwards. This ridge is called Aonach Eagach and even though it is nowhere near as bad as it's Glen Coe namesake I was still rather nervous as I crossed the short narrow ridge. At a 991m top I decided that I would spurn Storer's route down the widening ridge of Aonach Eagach in favour of the clear footpath north to the bealach.

I dropped very steeply down the rocky hillside until eventually, and with a bit of relief, I got to the bottom where I followed the path across the bealach. Halfway across I dropped south off the wide ridge onto an extremely muddy path that was an utter nightmare to negotiate. As I approached the point where I had left this path earlier the conditions underfoot improved and from there on I was able to enjoy the descent in the sunshine as I returned back down beside the Allt Toaig and later the Abhainn Shira. At first, this walk seemed like it was going to be really bad, due to the weather, but actually turned out to have some of the best weather of the holiday. I went home the next day with some regret as I had had a great time on this holiday doing some fantastic walks, though only when the weather was at its best, like at the end of this walk.

Buachialle Etive Mór

Thursday 13th September 2007

My original intention for this walk had been to go up the Black Mount, but that would require a lot of time and I was too slow setting off due to repeated trips to the shop (and a slow breakfast), soinstead I decided to do my planned walk for the next day: the Buachialle Etive Mór. I went up the wee Buachialle last year, but I'd never been to the top of the great gatekeeper for Glen Coe. Driving up from Crianlarich I parked at the car park just beyond Altnafeadh on the southern side of the road and walked beside the road to Altnafeadh taking the path opposite past Lagangarbh cottage and up into Coire na Tulaich.

This was a fabulous climb up a rocky, narrow corrie following a series of steps that intermittently followed the stream through stunning rock scenery that was awe-inspiring; I was enjoying every moment until I reached the scree. This seemed to go on forever and was very difficult for me to get a grip and left me having to walk on all fours with my hands on the stones for additional grip. Eventually I somehow managed to get up to more solid rocks and scrambled all the way up to the top. From there I had a tiring walk across a rocky terrain fighting against the wind to the summit of Buachialle Etive Mór, also known as Stob Dearg. I had fabulous views, despite the strong wind and overcast sky, but it wasn't clear which of the three small tops were the Munro. I think it was the middle top, and I think my Harvey map agreed with me though it's hard to tell. Whichever it was I went across to the end of the short summit ridge and looked out over the bleak Rannoch Moor in awe of my surroundings.

Coming down from the Munro I walked along the ridge over the 902m top and up to Stob na Doire. At 1011 metres it really deserves to be a Munro and it certainly looks like one, but it has not been afforded that honour. As consolation I had lunch on the top before continuing my traverse of the ridge descending steeply to the lowest point on the ridge (at 825m) and then climbed once more up to the top of Stob Coire Altruim. This top justly does not deserve to be a Munro as with barely any descent I walked to the end of the ridge and the second Munro of Buachialle Etive Mór, Stob na Bròige. With the entire length of the mountain completed I doubled back on myself, minimizing re-ascent by traversing the grassy southern slopes of Stob Coire Altruim, until I reached the top of Coire Altruim where I took the path down into the corrie, steeply at first and later scrambling beside the cascading stream.

This was a great walk down and I enjoyed every wonderful moment, but unfortunately it didn't last very long and soon I was crossing the River Coupall where I joined the path through Lairig Gartain and waded through bog after bog. My new boots were getting quite a testing, but that wasn't all. Before I reached the road it started raining, light at first but then heavier and heavier. With bog and rain to contend with I was relieved when I finally reached my car. Despite the way this walk ended I had a great time. The weather, even though it was still windy, was great and afforded me with amazing views across the densest area of Munros in Scotland. I could only hope the next day's venture onto the Black Mount would be as favourable.

Ben Ledi

Wednesday 12th September 2007

I only went up a Corbett on this walk because I had other plans for the morning; I visited the distillery at Glenturret, now bastardised as the Famous Grouse Experience. They seemed more interested in their blend than in the actual malt making process, and when I tasted the blend I was not impressed. It left a sour taste in my mouth, but when I tried the blend of just malts (no cheap grain whisky), it tasted quite good. Though that may have been the Highland Park in it, which I love. With my head full of the drams of whisky I headed off to the Trossachs to see what the fuss there was all about. My original intention had been to go up both Ben Venue and Ben Ledi today but after my visit to the distillery one of these had to go. I had decided that I would go up Ben Venue because it is more celebrated, despite being smaller and is right next to the Trossachs (whatever they are). In the event the road to the Trossachs was closed so instead of taking a long diversion I decided to go up Ben Ledi.

After parking beside an old railway line, south of Loch Lubnaig, I walked along the old line, now a cycle track, for a kilometre until I reached a sign that said "Ben Ledi". Surmising that this may just be the right way I headed off along the path climbing through Stank Burn Glen along manufactured gravelly paths into the corrie at the head of the valley. Despite the name and the heavy forestation this was quite a lovely place and I stopped to enjoy the surroundings and had my lunch while sitting on a large rock. On with my walk, the gravel path ended at a fence as the path continued on the other side across grass (and mud) up to the top of Bealach nan Corp. Onward up the grassy hillside I plunged into the clouds and later into rain. Except for on Monday, I had endured clouds at the top of every summit I'd visited in Scotland on this holiday so far.

Reaching the summit ridge I walked along what I'm sure would have been a delightful ridge in clear weather, but I was not so blessed. Eventually I arrived at the summit where there is a trig point, a shallow cairn and a little distance away was a metal cross marking a memorial to a mountain rescuer who was killed on Ben More. The conditions discouraged a prolonged stay so I left south-east along the ridge and descended over Meall Odhar and down below the clouds. Despite the rain stopping, the view, although extensive, was not great (perhaps it was just the poor light) as Ben Ledi lies near the Highland fault and everything I could see southwards was lowland, including a wind farm. The fabled Trossachs were shrouded in dark clouds and could not be seen clearly. Following the path, I turned left and dropped steeply down below Creag Gorm re-entering the forestry land and descended further beside the Corriechrombie burn plunging into the woodland back down to the road and my car. This was not a great walk, although it would have been helped by better weather, but it was too short to be really satisfying.

Ben Vorlich and Stuc a'Chroin

Tuesday 11th September 2007

The weather on this walk was a little mixed. In most places the day was rather sunny and pleasant, but a dark cloud hung over the mountain that refused to budge and cast a very grim shadow over the whole day. I parked near the bridge over the Ardvorlich Burn and proceeded along a track beside the burn that passes Ardvorlich House and up Glen Vorlich. The track climbed the steep valley up to a bridge over the Allt a'Coire Buidhe and from there a footpath led me up into the corrie. As I climbed ever higher on the path I gained the north ridge of Ben Vorlich and continued up onto the cloud-covered summit. It had been quite a struggle for me to climb that steep unrelenting ridge but that was all forgotten as I walked between the summit cairn and the trig point, but which was the actual Munro? Harvey reveals that it's the trig point.

Onward from Ben Vorlich I followed a path beside a line of rusting metal posts south-west off the mountain and down to Bealach an Dubh Choirein. In the patchy cloud I could see Stuc a'Chroin ahead of me with a big cliff barring my way. I was looking forward to the scramble up, so I was rather disappointed with the path that I was following as it went off to the left around the side of the cliff. Later, when I read Ralph Storer's account of a walk up these mountains, he describes a clear path scrambling up the cliff. Where has that gone? I almost feel cheated by the path that I followed as I would have enjoyed a scramble up that cliff-face. The path I did follow went up a wide gully behind the north top climbing steeply but easing the work through zigzags whenever possible. Once on top I walked south through the mist to the summit cairn where I had my lunch.

Having got rather cold during lunch I buttoned up and headed back to the north top spurning the clear descent path. After a look at the memorial on the at the north top I climbed down the large boulders to the obvious westerly descent path. Following this path down the north-western ridge I descended steeply into the top of Coire Fuadarach. At the bottom of the steep slope I took a fainter path that skirts around the top of the corrie past the bealach and across the western slopes of Ben Vorlich. Over the north-western ridge of Ben Vorlich I crossed the northern slopes of the mountain to rejoin the ascent path. My descent path was cleverly engineered to minimize reascent as I bypassed Ben Vorlich and avoided the rocky traverse of Bealach an Dubh Choirein.

Once back on the main path and away from Ben Vorlich the sun came out. I had seen distant valleys bathed in sunshine while I was sat under a dark cloud but now that I was free of Ben Vorlich's grip I was able to enjoy the sunshine for myself, so I had a lovely, sunny walk back down to the shore of Loch Earn and my waiting car. I have to say I don't think this was a great walk, as it seemed to be lacking something, maybe it was the lack of sunshine or good views, or maybe it was the lack of a good scramble up Stuc a'Chroin. But it was still an enjoyable walk.

The Tarmachan Ridge and Ben Lawers (again)

Monday 10th September 2007

The weather on this walk was much better than on the day before with bright sunshine and clear views from every mountain, unfortunately the wind was still quite strong, but you can't have everything. Starting from the Ben Lawers Visitor Centre I walked up the road for a bit to a track on the left that went over a burn and across the mountainside, soon I left the track and took a path that climbed the hillside. Just beyond a 923m top the path descended slightly before climbing steeply up the hill until eventually gaining the wind swept summit of Meall nan Tarmachan, the only Munro on the ridge.

Now began a fantastic traverse of this undulating and ever changing ridge. The clear path cunningly negotiated the many twists and turns and avoided unnecessary hilltops while steering a course for the successive prominent tops on the ridge. First on the list was probably the best, Meall Garbh, a tiny pinnacle-like summit that looked insurmountable from a distance. Beyond the summit was a narrow rocky ridge that was rather hairy in the strong wind, followed by a short scramble down a small cliff face. Next on the list was Beinn nan Eachan, which was tame in comparison, and that was followed by Creag na Caillich, but it wasn't the tops that was the appeal of this walk as the ridge itself was superb. All too soon I was at the end and descending the last top to a final treat: a path that skirted around the top of high cliffs along a narrow ledge. I enjoy paths like this, but even I found this one rather hair-raising.

Dropping down into a corrie I followed a path across somewhat boggy ground to a weir on the Allt Coire Fionn Lairige from where a clear path led me monotonously and eventually all the way across the hillside to the track that I had used on the outward journey and back to the Visitor Centre. There I had my lunch while sitting in my car and decided that since it was still early (2pm) I would go up the two Munros near the Visitor Centre, but not Ben Lawers itself as I'd already done that the day before. So setting off once again I walked along the tourist path towards Ben Lawers through the picturesque ravine of the Burn of Edramucky. This fenced off area shows what happens when you keep sheep off the hills and it looks so much better for it. Hillsides grazed by sheep are bland and dull whereas this area was full of colourful heather, bracken and young trees and is what mountainsides are supposed to look like. Damn sheep!

Leaving the enclosure I took the right-hand path that zigzagged steeply up the hillside onto the south ridge of Beinn Ghlas. The climb continued up the increasingly rocky terrain into the face of the increasingly strong wind until finally I made it up to the summit. Looking across at its neighbour, Meall Corranach, I was struck by the lack of a path up the tricky terrain from the col and by the rather dull appearance of its grassy top in comparison to the fabulous mountain I was on. I was reluctant to make the traverse and then my eyes strayed to Ben Lawers that was clear under the blue skies with a tremendous ridge to it from where I was. Without a moment's hesitation I started dashing down the ridge towards Ben Lawers before I could change my mind!

A steep rocky path brought me up to the summit that I had previously visited only 25 hours before, but the change in the weather was unbelievable. Instead of inhospitable conditions I had amazing views all around me including towards the three Munros that I had walked over the day before, and below was Lochan nan Cat, at the bottom of the corrie that I'd walked around then. I'd hardly got a view of them then but now they could be clearly seen. Another thing I noticed was that since the day before the wind had moved to a northerly from the westerly direction that I'd had then, and seemed to be slightly weaker, though not by much. After taking loads of pictures and enjoying myself no-end I left the summit and dropped back down to the col, where I took the smaller, lower path that bypasses Beinn Ghlas going through the bealach with Meall Corranach on my right, though I still had no desire to go up the grassy Munro. The rest of the walk down Coire Odhar was a breeze and as I passed through the enclosure once again I reflected on how much I was enjoying the descent. The pleasant scenery, the sunshine and the satisfaction of a great day's walk were really uplifting. 

Ben Lawers

Sunday 9th September 2007

The first walk in Scotland of my holiday was up one of the highest mountains in Scotland, Ben Lawers, which at 1214m it is just shy of four thousand feet, unfortunately the weather was rather poor with low cloud all day and exceptionally strong winds, especially at the top of the ridge. I parked at the Ben Lawers Hotel in Lawers by Loch Tay and started the walk by taking a path beside the Lawers Burn. After crossing a deer fence into the Ben Lawers National Nature Reserve the day's prospect could be seen ahead of me with long grassy slopes leading up to the high summits, hidden in clouds, on both sides of the valley, with a burn gradually veering to the left. A round of this corrie was going to be quite an undertaking, especially in this weather.

My first target was Meall Greigh on the right, so leaving the main path where it started to drop down towards the burn, I took a small path that gradually climbed the hillside away from the burn, with views of Loch Tay behind me. On reaching a stream I crossed and climbed beside it up the hill, continuing beyond the head of the stream to the top of the ridge where I found a path that led me up to the summit of my first Munro of the day, Meall Greigh. By now the wind had really picked up and it was a challenge to continue into the wind passing over the north-western top and down some very muddy ground to the bealach.

Ahead of me was the steep hillside of Meall Garbh rising into the clouds, so with grim determination I started the steep climb. At least I was sheltered behind the mountain from the strong winds, but if only that could have lasted! Eventually I reached the summit ridge, into the wind, but which top was the Munro? In the clouds I had no way of knowing as I proceeded along the undulating top; at one point I passed a cairn, but was it the summit? The path continued across a depression and rose to another cairn, and I think this one was probably the Munro but my Harvey map indicated that the actual top was at the end of the summit ridge and that didn't have a cairn. Despairing, I stopped in some shelter and had my lunch.

Even in the shelter it was very cold and I found myself rushing lunch towards the end so I could get moving again and warm up. With hindsight maybe I should have put my fleece on? Venturing back out onto the ridge I was immediately struck by a wind that became almost unbearable as I tried to make my way down from the summit. The wind continued unabated as I dropped down to the col and at times I was reduced to a crawl as I tried to minimise the impact of the wind. It's disturbing how much high winds can affect your vision: everything was blurred and even shaky as if my eye balls were being blown around in their sockets! All in all this descent was astonishingly tricky; I was relieved when I had crossed the bealach and was sheltered from the winds by the great cliffs below An Stùc.

Unfortunately these 'great cliffs' now had to be climbed, but the path continued it's well-designed route and weaved up the cliff-face. Half way up I was presented with a problem: the path seemed to split in two. Go right up a steep scramble or left around the corner, assuming that led anywhere. Of course I took the right-hand path because I had no idea where the left-hand path went. The scramble in the damp blowy weather conditions was quite hair-raising but I clung on (for dear life) and frantically searched for a hand-hold until I eventually managed to get up to the top of An Stùc. This time there was no doubt as to the location of the Munro with its small summit and a single top adorned by a cairn, where even the wind had slackened. Formerly An Stùc wasn't a Munro but when a reassessment gave it the same height as Meall Greigh there was no way of deciding which was the Munro and which was merely a top, so now both are Munros although really they are a twin Munro: two Munros on one mountain.

Descending to the bealach I withstood the wind and began to climb up to the Munro top, Creag an Fhithich, but I couldn't even stand at the summit because the wind was so bad. It was horrendous, and so at this point I decided that things were getting so grim I had no choice but to take my baseball cap off... Really it's surprising I hadn't done so earlier, but the hood on my cagoule is not very good. Without my cap the hood began sliding down over my eyes, which makes climbing a mountain a little difficult (!). Besides this I did find the wind a lot easier to cope with despite being no weaker, and so I was able to quickly climb up to my ultimate goal of the day: Ben Lawers.

Sheltered behind the summit rock, the conditions almost seemed benign but when I attempted to get up to the summit plinth I could barely stand. While at the summit I took a GPS reading and noted that this was my highest point of the year although it was exaggerating the reading at 1220 metres but it's still a tremendous height that would take a long time for me to descend. Heading off eastwards along a fabulous narrow ridge I slowly descended and came off the rocky ridge onto broad grassy slopes slowly plunging down the hillside. When I came out of the clouds I checked my GPS and was surprised to discover that I was still at 1000 metres. I felt like I should be much lower, but of course the scale of Ben Lawers puts the Lakeland Fells to shame.

Dropping further down the steep grassy slopes I eventually reached boggy ground at the foot of the slope, however traversing the bog proved to be not too troublesome. On reaching a burn I crossed it and joined a thin path on the far bank that I followed down to a weir where I recrossed the burn onto a clear path that I followed downstream until eventually I crossed it again to join my outward path that took me back down to the road. This day was really all about the wind on the exposed parts of the path. While in the shelter it was an ordinary cloud-covered walk, which frankly I would have preferred. It started to drizzle as I descended by the burn but that failed to dampen my enthusiasm for what was a great walk in real mountain scenery in very real mountain weather.

High Street and Kidsty Pike

Saturday 8th September 2007

This walk was at the start of a week spent in Scotland, and for a change I had driven up there, but to break the journey on my way to Scotland into two manageable trips I had stopped off to do this walk in the Lake District, though I didn't really need much of an excuse. Leaving the motorway at Junction 39 I headed across to Haweswater and parked at Mardale Head, which was filling up very quickly in the good weather. Setting off along the path I walked beside the reservoir shoreline to the Rigg, a conifer wood at the foot of the Long Stile ridge. From the bottom of the ridge I started the walk up, first on the northern side of the wall and then I crossed over to the other side joining the path which I followed all the way up to High Street.

I previously did this walk in December 05, when the weather was much worse than for this walk, I couldn't see anything from the ridge and suffered severe windchill at the summit. Now I was treated to clear blue skies and great views of all the nearby fells. (The fells further into the park were shrouded in mist, but I wasn't so afflicted on this eastern edge of the park.) The great views were complimented by a great rugged path that climbed up the ridge while minimizing unnecessary descents as it passes the Swine, Heron, and Eagle Crags, and finally up Rough Crag. The scrambly path then descended to Caspel Gate before I began to make the fun climb up Long Stile onto High Street.

I must say I didn't really get the most enjoyment from the ascent as it was just too hot which was making the going more tiring than would be expected, but once the summit plateau was gained the heat no longer bothered me and I was able to enjoy myself again. I walked south along the cliff top looking over the picturesque Blea Water and settled down to my lunch. With the stunning eastern views before me and the populous summit a good distance behind me I was really able to enjoy the solitude and scenery as I ate. When I had finished I climbed up to the crowded summit of High Street and after taking a look at the western views shrouded in low clouds returned to the eastern edge in haste.

Walking along the edge of the High Street plateau I descended to the straits of Riggindale gazing into the isolated valley as I went. Veering right I took the path at the head of Riggindale Beck and followed the Coast-to-Coast route bypassing Rampsgill Head as it heads towards Kidsty Pike. Two previous times I have been here and spurned Kidsty Pike because it had looked so insignificant from Rampsgill Head, but it's a Wainwright so I incorporated the top into this walk as I headed back down to Haweswater. It does feel like a proper fell with a good summit peak, it's just not worth making an effort for on its own. I think it's really Rampsgill Head that isn't a proper fell, but unfortunately it's bigger than Kidsty Pike, so let's just face it, these fells are just all wrong.

My descent from Kidsty Pike passed over grass before going through the fascinating collection of rocky knolls called Kidsty Howes. I had great fun hopping from one top to another with the views of Haweswater below opening up with every step. Once through I dropped steeply down to the bottom of the valley crossing Riggindale Beck and climbed back up to the top of The Rigg. Returning to the car park I prepared for another long drive that took me into Scotland, past Glasgow and Stirling and into Killin. It's a long way to drive after doing a tough walk and I don't think I'll be in a hurry to do it again.

Moel Siabod take three

Tuesday 28th August 2007

For the final day of this holiday I returned to a walk that I had done twice before, and both times failing to go up the Daear Ddu ridge, south of Moel Siabod, that was my intended route. The first time, in 2004, I went up a scree slope next to the ridge and the second time, two years ago in the rain, I went up the grassy slope beyond the ridge. I was hoping that this would be third time lucky. Moel Siabod is a lonely mountain with only one good line of approach, that from Pont Cyfyng, so once again I parked just over the bridge and set off up the steep road for Moel Siabod.

Continuing on the track towards the imposing mountain ahead I turned off towards the left flank and to a picturesque lake. The good path continued through an eerie, disused quarry, past slag heaps and a dark flooded pit, before climbing over a rise and down to Llyn y Foel. This was where my choices on my previous visits varied as the path splits before the descent to the lake. The right-hand path hugs the edge of the hillside heading towards the corner formed by the hillside and the ridge, and this was the path I took the first time I did this walk. The second time I went left around the lake, just as a group ahead of me were doing now, but this time I went straight ahead just to the right of the lake on what is potentially the wettest route.

On the other side of the lake I climbed up to the top of the ridge, which was not too difficult at this early stage, and finally I succeeded in walking along the ridge on my third attempt. Some fun scrambling was revealed that can be easily circumvented, but why would I want to do that? The climb up the ridge was easy with some fun moves possible up the rocks, which was a perfect way to end my long weekend holiday. Finally I reached the summit where I had stunning views of Snowdon, the Glyderau and the Carneddau. After having something to eat I walked down the tremendous eastern ridge over rocky terrain with bits of delicious rockwork to enjoy while traversing the top. With the fun over I descended down the hill back onto the outward track to finally return to my car. This is a truly great mountain, and even though I have now done the ridge that I had been trying to achieve for years it would be a shame not to do this walk again.

Since the walk had finished early, I took advantage of the spare time on my drive home to explore the countryside I was passing through. A signpost for the Horsehoe Pass, near Llangollen, prompted me to take the road that passes through this dramatic scenery and to stop and take in the views. Unfortunately I was unable to do a walk in the area, so I got back in my car and drove down into Llangollen, but soon after passing through I was stopped by another signpost that promised an aqueduct. I have passed these signs for the Horseshoe Pass and Pontcysyllte Aqueduct many times on my way to Snowdonia, but now I had the time to stop and explore. The aqueduct carries the Llangollen Canal across the Dee Valley and was a vertiginous experience to cross over, only to have to do so again to get back. I loved these opportunities to explore areas that I had never visited before and I hope that I will soon get a chance to spend more time in an area that previously I have ignored in my single-minded focus on mountains.