Thursday 26 September 2013

The Monsal Trail

Monday 6th May 2013 (and Saturday 31st March 2012)

I have always been especially interested in the Monsal Trail in the Peak District because it passes through the dramatic scenery of Monsal Dale and Miller’s Dale, however, ever since the old railway line was opened to walkers the many tunnels on the route remained closed, which necessitated several long diversions around them. In 2011 the Peak District National Park Authority reopened the tunnels, repairing, resurfacing and lighting them to form an extension to the existing Monsal Trail. Since I hadn’t previously been able to, I was eager to do a walk through these tunnels, so just before Easter last year I did a walk along the Monsal Trail. It was a thrilling walk, but I wasn’t able to do my fully intended walk due to a lack of time, so this year I did it again and managed to do a great walk in stunning weather through stunning scenery. I also deliberately went a month later so I was able to enjoy more of the spring wild flowers that I enjoy (although the late spring this year lessened the benefit).

Both this year and last year I started the walk in the town of Bakewell, the largest in the Peak District, and set off alongside the busy A6 road north out of the town. After passing Lumford Mill I briefly took a path past Mill Pond and Ashford Lake (and the attractive weirs between them), all constructed for the benefit of the mill, but soon returned to the main road. Beyond the turning for the picturesque village of Ashford in the Water, I took a left turning off the A6 onto a lane signposted to Sheldon, but took a footpath on the right before the road begins to rise out of the valley of the River Wye. Last year at this point I thought I’d lost my camera and even went back as far as the point where I’d rejoined the main road to look for it, only to find I’d had it on me all the time. This year I had no such problem and marched on beside the river into the wonderful Shacklow Wood that I’d enjoyed enormously last year and drew me back this year. I had hoped that the garlic scented plants that cover the floor of the wood would be in bloom by the time I went this year, but the late spring robbed me of that.

I still had a great walk across the steep slopes of the wood perched on a high ledge above the valley below. The lack of wild garlic was made up for, as I descended back down to the road, through a wondrous abundance of wood anemones and lesser celandines. After crossing the A6 I walked through Monsal Dale, a valley that I have walked through many, many times since I was a child, to the awesome Monsal Head Viaduct that towers above the valley. The green lawns of this beautiful dale was adorned with so many wild flowers I was enraptured, but this was also my first sight of the railway on this walk. Last year, I climbed up to the top of the viaduct and joined the Monsal Trail, heading towards Buxton and through Cressbrook Tunnel. I hadn’t planned on going through a tunnel this early in the walk, but the sight of the open tunnel ahead of me was irresistible. This year I passed underneath the viaduct and joined the road coming down from Monsal Head. My plan for this walk was to stay at the bottom of the valley all the way to the end of the Monsal Trail before finally returning to Bakewell along the old railway line.

I had failed to do that last year, but this year I persevered along the road, avoiding the temptation of the tunnels and at Cressbrook Mill I returned to the water’s edge to walk through the stunning Water-cum-Jolly Dale where a fabulous walk took me through the narrow valley as far as Litton Mill. From this point I was back on roads, but the valley I was walking through was still quite picturesque, which made me wish I hadn’t avoided it in the past, just because there was a seldom used road along the bottom. Gorgeous wild flowers flanked the road and stunning crags towered above me while I walked along the road all the way to the village of Miller’s Dale where two huge girder bridges tower above the village as the railway crosses the valley into Miller’s Dale Station. After passing below the bridges I left the road and started to walk along the gorgeous Chee Dale, a tranquil narrow valley that got narrower and more delightful the further I progressed. After passing below the railway line (again) the path became deliciously rugged as the walls of the valley closed in around me. I thoroughly enjoyed my walk through Chee Dale as I excitedly negotiated small scrambly sections and crossed the stepping stones where the valley is so narrow there’s no room even for a path.

Last year, once I’d reached the end of the Monsal Trail, I’d returned along Chee Dale, but since I was already in a hurry I was unable to linger, so this year I relished being able to take my time in this wonderful, spell-binding valley. When the valley started to open out I had my lunch (at the same point where I’d had my lunch last year), before finally climbing up to the start of the Monsal Trail. The walk was completed by returning to Bakewell along the entire eight and a half mile length of the Monsal Trail through Chee Tor tunnels, Litton tunnel and Cressbrook tunnel. It was great to be able to walk through these monuments to Victorian engineering and imagine what it would have been like when express trains used to roar through these tunnels. The Monsal Trail was very popular with both cyclists and walkers, which made it a bit of an anti-climax for me after the excitement of Chee Dale. I eventually reached the Monsal Head Viaduct again and passed through Headstone tunnel, the longest tunnel on the trail, and emerged into a very different landscape. I had left the dramatic scenery of Monsal Dale and was now in rather tame, even dull, farming country as the line took a course away from the River Wye for the final section to Bakewell.

Last year, at this point, I had been almost running in order to catch my bus in time, but I had no such problem this year as I strolled along the trail all the way to the end of the line at Coombe Road bridge. As I walked along the road back into Bakewell I couldn’t help thinking that I could have picked a better day as I was walking not only on a Bank Holiday Monday, but on the day of the Bakewell Show. The town was packed, but fortunately I wasn’t in the long queue of cars waiting to get out of the town as I had caught a bus to Bakewell. This was a great walk through stunning scenery from Shacklow Wood at the start of the walk to the narrow confines of Chee Dale and back along the Monsal Trail through all those railway tunnels. I had fabulous weather for the walk and the wild flowers kept me enthralled all day. From the soot still stuck to the sides of the tunnels, to the wild garlic in Shacklow Wood, there were delights for all the senses.

Thursday 19 September 2013

Glen Nevis

Friday 7th June 2013

On the last day of my holiday in Scotland all I had to do was walk along the entire length of Glen Nevis, but first I had to get to Glen Nevis. The weather on this walk was sensational, and was actually a bit too hot for the walking that I was doing. After the cold and wet weather of the first week of my holiday, the weather just got better and better as the second week progressed, ending in the baking conditions of this walk. After a relaxing evening spent in the stunning Staoineag bothy, I eventually tore myself away from the idyllic spot and set off along the picturesque, wildlife-filled valley of the Abhainn Rath. Ahead of me were the mountains of Glen Nevis, most notably Ben Nevis, and they soon started to attract my attention, however the initial interest of the wildlife and distant mountain views soon faded as I entered a wide, boggy area near another bothy, Meanach. I visited quite a few bothies on this holiday (and stayed in two of them), so I couldn’t resist having a look in this one before continuing along the valley on the northern bank of the Abhainn Rath.

The walk was now just a hard slog up a dreary valley, but with views of the Grey Corries to my right that reminded me of one of my most memorable walks when I traversed the entire length of those white stone-topped mountains in excellent weather. Under the shadow of the mountains, the Abhainn Rath turned north into the heart of the Grey Corries in Corrie Rath, while I passed over the top of the pass into Glen Nevis. There was little sign of a path at this point so I had try and find my own way across the undulating terrain until a faint path eventually emerged. This was a tiring stage of the walk, but I just had to keep going and things eventually started to improve. To my left the Mamores, a fabulous range of mountains linked by high ridges, started to come into view and, as the Grey Corries slipped past, the southern buttresses of Aonach Beag came dramatically into view. I was walking past the stunning sight as some of the greatest mountain ranges in Scotland, while spotted-orchids could be seen at my feet beside the path.

Eventually I reached the beautiful Steall meadow with the tall An Steall waterfall as its backdrop and I couldn’t resist stopping there to take in the stunning surroundings and have my lunch. I thought I had passed through this place many times before, but when I tried to think about the last time I had been there I was shocked to realise that I hadn’t been to Steall meadow since 2006. I had really wanted to visit the meadow last year, but I had been thwarted by fatigue so this three day walk from Dalwhinnie railway station all the way to Fort William was deliberately devised just so I could visit Steall meadow and the Nevis Gorge. My memory of the Steall meadow is different to what I found as I remember the grass being shorter, almost park-like, but now the meadow was in a wilder, more natural state.

In all my previous visits to Steall meadow I had avoided the wire bridge that crosses the River Nevis, preferring to wade across the river rather than take the perilous crossing. The thought of crossing a bridge made of nothing more than a metal rope didn’t really appeal to me, but as I sat eating my lunch while watching other people crossing the bridge I decided that it was about time I put this demon to rest. After lunch I got up and started to cross the bridge with my eyes locked onto the wire just a metre ahead of me as I slowly made my way across the bridge, nerves jangling with every step. Once I got to the other side of the river I definitely did not want to return across the bridge so in honour of my usual method of crossing the River Nevis I waded across and got my feet wet. To finally leave Steall meadow, I took the fabulous path through the stunning Nevis Gorge. The John Muir Trust carried out some repair work to the path recently and I was afraid that they had tamed and ruined it, but not a bit of it. It is still a fabulous path, just as rugged and uneven as it always has been as it plunges through the deep, tree-lined gorge.

I had wanted to go through the Nevis Gorge for ages and it was great to finally be able to return to this wonderful area and walk along the fantastic path through the gorge. On the other side I walked along the road for a short distance before taking a path through woodland bedecked with bluebells on the southern bank of the River Nevis that took me back onto the road at the lower falls of Glen Nevis. My three day walk was still not completed as I had to get to Fort William and for that a stroll through the conifer plantations of the Nevis Forest finally took me all the way into Fort William and the end of the walk. Since the Glen Nevis Youth Hostel was fully booked, I had to catch a train south to Crianlarich, but that didn’t bother me as this is now the third year in a row that I have finished my holiday in Crianlarich and I am beginning to prefer it.

This was a fantastic holiday when I can honestly say that I enjoyed every moment. It was definitely different to how I usually do my holidays in Scotland, for example, I’d never taken a tent before, or stayed in bothies. I found that I gained a much greater sense of freedom with a tent, especially when doing long distance walks, but I should not forget about mountains as the day before this walk proved. I did not go up enough mountains on this holiday. I had planned to go up more mountains than I eventually did, Beinn A’ Ghlo, Mayar, Driesh, and Ben MacDui were all planned to be climbed, but for various reasons I did not. Other problems on this holiday was my woefully inadequate rucksack (already mentioned many times previously) and my boots that slowly began to fall to bits towards the end of the holiday with the soles hanging off by the time I reached Fort William. They were very old having been used on many great walks, but finally met their maker after this holiday. They had a great end.

Thursday 12 September 2013

The Geal Chàrn Group

Thursday 6th June 2013

Despite the summer now starting to give way to Autumn I am still writing about my holiday in Scotland more than three months ago, and I have reached the best day of the holiday. I’d had a good night’s sleep (the best I had under canvas all holiday), but I’ve got to wonder whether the way I did it really helps me get closer to nature: I was completely wrapped in my down sleeping bag, with ear-plugs in my ears and a blindfold over my eyes. This may not have been what I’d intended, but it certainly helped me to wake up refreshed and ready for a glorious day's walk over three mountains and past two lochs. The weather was fantastic, without a cloud in the sky, as I packed up my tent and climbed the short distance from where I’d camped to the top of the pass, Bealach Dudh, between Ben Alder and Geal Chàrn. Before this day, for various reasons I’d only climbed one Munro, Ben Avon, on this holiday, but now with excellent weather, an excellent place to start from and feeling a lot more refreshed than earlier in the week I had no excuse, so immediately I headed up towards the hills north of the pass. I climbed Ben Alder, south of the pass, the year before so this was now my opportunity to climb the Geal Chàrn group of mountains.

From the top of Bealach Dubh I climbed the slopes of Leacann an Brathan avoiding the top of Sgor Iutharn to head steeply up to the vast summit plateau of Geal Chàrn. This plateau would have been really difficult to navigate in poor weather as even in the good weather that I was enjoying I had problems finding my way across the featureless plain to the summit. Views were restricted by the vastness of the undulating terrain across the plateau so I couldn’t see the summit, and when I did find a cairn this wasn’t the Munro. I needed to look at a map to work out where to go and eventually I found the summit cairn in the western corner of the plateau just above the cliffs of Coire na Coichille. It felt great to be at the top of a mountain again on a gloriously sunny morning, especially after all the problems of the past week. I hadn’t realised how much I missed the feeling of being at the top of a mountain where countless hills could be seen dotted all around me as far as the eye could see. Ben Alder was an obvious draw across the valley, but the other two Munros in the group drew me on.

The fourth Munro in the group, Carn Dearg, was east, back towards Culra Bothy, and not in the right direction that I was heading. Instead I headed west onto a narrow ridge that led me onto the dramatically small top of Aonach Beag, my second Munro of the day. The views towards these Munros were spell-binding and arrested my attention the whole time I was traversing the ridge between them. I was in a dream as I sailed along the ridge between these mountains with my rucksack for the first time on this holiday actually feeling light. From Aonach Beag a gloriously narrow and more prolonged ridge led me to the final Munro of the day, Beinn Eibhinn (pronounced Ben Avon, coincidentally the name of the other Munro I’d climbed on this holiday). The view towards the mountains west was now unhindered and I couldn’t help noticing the difference between those mountains and the ones to the east. The mountains of the Western Highlands are more rugged, craggy and pointed than the smoother, flat-topped, heather-clad mountains of the Cairngorms, and to me the best mountains in Scotland are those to the west.

I stood transfixed at the top of Beinn Eibhinn not wanting to leave, but I knew that I had a long walk-out, so despite it being only noon I began my descent over the Munro Top of Meall Glas Choire all the way down to the valley bottom. The start of the descent was dull, but after lunch on the rocks of Creagan na Craoibhe I had a thrilling ride down the steepening terrain weaving around the outcrops and into the heather-filled valley. This was great fun for me as I really love long descents off hilltops down pathless ridges and this one brought me down to a delightful path beside the Uisge Labhair that I had been on the year before and took me all the way to Corrour Shooting Lodge and Loch Ossian. I had thoroughly enjoyed my time last year at Loch Ossian, so it was wonderful to be able to revisit the area, even if only in passing. I took the path along the southern shore of Loch Ossian past a stunning rhododendron collection where, although many of the flowers were not yet in bloom, others, particularly red-flowered ones, were putting on a tremendous display. I had a lovely walk in the sunshine past the rhododendrons and beside the loch all the way to the Loch Ossian Youth Hostel.

After passing the hostel and Corrour station, I headed over the hill and down to Loch Treig on a route that I’d taken last year coming back up to Loch Ossian after climbing the Easains. This steep drop brought me down to the shore of Loch Treig where I rounded the southern end of the loch and after passing Creaguaineach Lodge I made my way beside the Abhainn Rath to Staoineag Bothy. This was a magical day where I saw some truly great scenery that I have to say was better than anything I’d seen in the Cairngorms National Park. I will always be drawn to the Western Highlands as I’m convinced that’s where the best mountains are, and fortunately my visit coincided with great weather and I had the energy to enjoy it. However, by the time I reached the Abhainn Rath I was really tired and weary after a long day, but the bothy was a welcome sight and despite having the place to myself I had an enjoyable evening reading my Kindle and playing patience by the light of the setting sun. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.