The Mweelrea Mountains

Sunday 23rd March 2008

Last week I was in Ireland for the whole week; this was the second time I had been to Ireland, the last time was 2½ years ago when I visited county Kerry and walked up all the highest hills in Ireland. Last week I walked in and around Connemara, which is supposed to contain some of the best and most rugged mountains in Ireland, and based on this walk I would totally agree. I parked (I had hired a car for the week just as I did the last time I was in Ireland) at the northern end of Doo Lough and proceeded along a farmer's track across the top of the lough to a sheepfold and from there on I was pathless for the rest of the day. One of the great things about walking in Ireland is that there are no footpaths so you have make your own route through the mountains which made the journeys much more fun and challenging. There is also however a problem of access as there are no “Rights-of-Way” in Ireland so technically I was trespassing the whole time, luckily at no time did I get into trouble. In practice the local farmers turn a blind eye to walkers so long as they don’t damage their fences (and I did have to climb over a lot of wire fences during my week in Ireland). After crossing a bit of boggy ground (I would also get used to that) I climbed up the eastern ridge of the Glencullin corrie, along Ben Ludmore's northern ridge. This was a great, fun scramble that really tested my ability to pick a route. I started by climbing a gully then walked steeply to more scrambling until eventually I reached the start of the summit ridge. I really enjoyed this climb on a steep rocky ridge with bright sunshine and clear views all around me; it was wonderful, despite the strong wind. The views from the top of Ben Lugmore were stunning, the weather was superb and even the wind had died down while I was at the top. I was afforded with tremendous views of the hills around Mayo and Galway, which teased me with what would lie ahead during the week. They all looked really brilliant, rugged, rocky and fabulous; it was wonderful and I couldn’t believe I was blessed with such wonderful weather especially after the rain of the previous day. This rocky scenery is just what I thrive on, I go all over the country looking for mountains like this, but they are so rare. I couldn't help thinking that it was Easter Sunday and I hadn’t seen a single person yet; I bet Helvellyn wasn’t like this.

After enjoying Ben Lugmore’s other tops I dropped down to the col and crossed the broad slopes of Ben Bury on my way to Mweelrea as the weather started to get worse; the wind was picking up. I climbed up across the northern slopes of Mweelrea and eventually reached the summit just as the weather turned bad. It was still quite nice at the summit but clouds were descending and as I ate my lunch I even had some wintry showers. While descending Mweelrea it was very cold and cloudy, and the subsequent climb up to Ben Bury was dull and prolonged in the poor weather. I saw my first people of the day while descending Mweelrea, but I suppose I had probably started earlier than them which was why I hadn’t seen anyone till later. I never used to be one for getting up early but my new job has dictated it so I have had to get used to it so that even while on holiday I have been getting up earlier than I used to, and I am actually beginning to quite like it as it seems to have it’s advantages. Ben Bury, though, proved to be the worst hill of the three with an ascent that was mainly on boggy grass interspersed by occasional stones, but when I got to the top I saw that the northern slopes were much more interesting with sheer cliffs and precipitous ridges, so it was a pity it was cloudy.

Looking at the western ridge of Glencullin I decided that my planned route down was far too steep for a descent so I prudently descended the wonderful ramp into the corrie instead, which is a fabulous route that provided me with a close hand view of the crags below Ben Lugmore. In the misty conditions the crags were rather spooky, and I think it would have been a pity to have missed this fabulous natural ramp. It wasn’t an easy route, though, being very steep and a little exposed near the top, but it is the main route up these mountains. Any semblance of a path disappeared at the bottom of the ramp so from there I had to make my own way down into the corrie and back down to Doo Lough. You never get that sort of thing in the Lake District where the paths are everywhere and I really enjoy having to find my own way down a mountain. Passing the sheepfold at the shore of Doo Lough I strolled back to the road and the car, while thinking that I had just had a good walk with some fabulous scenery. The weather had been great at the top of Ben Lugmore, I was really lucky to have such good weather up there as it was the best mountain of the three, while the weather later turned rather harsh. It was, though, a fabulously rugged walk, so keep it up Ireland!

The Sheffield Round Walk

While reading my old diaries it has been disturbing for me to discover that I used to be more interested in train-spotting than walking. At one point I even enthused about seeing two thirds of all the class 91s while at Doncaster. Oh dear. What I did mention however was a habit I started having of going for a walk in the evening in Endcliffe Park, which I really enjoyed. I even once described the park as incredible. I went frequently during the light evenings of June and found it very relaxing, which was just what I needed while taking my end-of-year exams. Eventually I started exploring further into the neighbouring Bingham Park and down the Porter Valley. Unlike Endcliffe Park, this was not heavily developed being a narrow woodland that has been left more or less in a natural state. I loved the place and became intimately acquainted with the park during my few years in Sheffield. (The picture below, of the Porter Valley, was taken much more recently, obviously during the winter) Endcliffe Park was at the start of the Sheffield Round Walk that passes through the Porter Valley and other parks in the south-western part of Sheffield for 10 miles. Having discovered its existence I wasted little time and on 11th June 1992 I walked the entire route from Endcliffe Park to Graves Park. What I find amazing now is that I had no idea where I was going. I didn't have a map of the route so I was solely reliant on the sign posts for direction and sometimes they let me down. I mentioned in my diary that I only got lost once or twice, but I recall that it was a challenge to find the route all the way with no idea where the signs were leading me. I had excellent weather and four hours after I started I arrived in Graves Park and promptly lost any sign of the continuing route. Assuming I had reached the end of the walk I found the main road into Sheffield and spent the next 1½ hours making my way back to Endcliffe Park.

As it happens my sister now lives in Sheffield near Graves Park and we recently went along the Round Walk together from Graves Park. There is now an extra section to the walk that has added another four miles and completes the circle back to Endcliffe Park. In 1992 ten miles was the entirety of the route so somehow I had successfully completed the whole walk with no map or any idea where I was going. I am astonished now that I attempted such a walk, but it is a testament to the signage that despite a few problems I was able to complete the whole walk with no other assistance. I have on a couple of occasions since I finished University returned to the Porter Valley and I tried to complete the whole fourteen mile Round Walk with my sister (we didn't succeed). Nevertheless the Porter Valley continues to hold a special place in my memories due to the many occasions I visited the park of a summer's evening.

Hart Side

Sunday 2nd March 2008

Last Sunday I was in the Lake District for the weekend but I needed to be home by late afternoon which resulted in a chaotic day with an early start to catch a train that never turned up. I left the youth hostel at 7.30 am going up the slag heaps beside the old mine and on to Glencoyne Head. The climb was rather difficult as the breakfast provided by the hostel had been very filling, but that wasn’t as tough as the wind. On Saturday, Glenridding was sheltered from the wind but now the direction had changed and I was being hit by very strong winds. The climb to Glencoyne Head was really tiring but once I was at the top the winds made any progress nigh on impossible. Crossing over to Hart Side was really tough but once I was at the summit the wind was ridiculous. It was an interesting summit with a number of cairns dotting the area, but attempting to reach each of the cairns was an achievement of near Herculean effort. Despite the scenery I did not want to stay very long in that wind so I soon abandoned the summit and crossed the hillside to Birkett Pike before quickly descending to Dowthwaite Head. With the need to catch a bus present in my mind I climbed over the headland down to the old coach road, but soon the wind came back into play and impeded my progress slowing my mad rush to Threlkeld. Below Clough Head and with Threlkeld in sight I descended the tussocky, boggy slope down to a minor road and on into the village. When I got there I discovered that I had missed the bus by just ten minutes, so I had no other choice, I flagged a lift down. I had never done that before but it worked a treat, and I didn't have to wait too long for someone to stop either. I got to Penrith in plenty of time but the trains were still not running and the next bus replacement service was not due for another 1½ hours, and it took me 2 hours to get to Preston on the bus where I just missed the Birmingham train and to catching the next train I had to change at Crewe, but if I had just waited in Preston and caught the next Birmingham train I would have been on the one that I later caught in Crewe! Typical. But I was now 2 hours behind schedule and wouldn't be back as planned, which is rather disappointing. This was a funny weekend but I enjoyed it despite all the hassle and those strong winds that are to blame for so many things.

Fairfield and Helvellyn

Saturday 1st March 2008

Last Saturday I was back in the Lake District thanks to the kindness of Virgin Trains who gave me a free ticket because of the cancellations over the New Year, but on my way back to the Lakes my train was cancelled again. High winds had blown over a freight container between Oxenholme and Penrith, blocking the line. Luckily I could get as far as Oxenholme and from there to Windermere and Ambleside so my weekend wasn't ruined, yet, so I was able to enjoy a wonderful walk over some of the highest fells in the Lake District, even though I experienced some rather harsh weather. When I started, in Ambleside, it was raining and windy, but as I walked over Low Sweden Bridge the weather cleared and revealed glimpses of blue skies. I had come wrapped up against cold temperatures, but it appeared my many layers would not be needed and soon I took off a fleece (but I put on my waterproof trousers, so I would be prepared for anything). As I began to climb up the ridge I pondered that I had been up this ridge just once before back in 2003 when I had walked from the Helvellyn Youth Hostel over St Sunday Crag to Fairfield and along this ridge all the way down into Ambleside. The weather back then was better than it was last Saturday (it was July!), but I seem to recall low clouds had obscured the views even then. At least that was not a problem last weekend and early in the walk the weather was not too bad. Rather than take the path along the top of the ridge to Low Pike I elected to take the easier gradients of the lower eastern path (the actual right of way), which was actually on a well-made path and was a much the better way to go than the direct assault along the top of the ridge. When going down you don’t mind being a little adventurous but when climbing steeply uphill your mind is only on how to get up the slope as easily and as quickly as possible. Soon my well-designed path joined the top of the ridge and passed over Low Pike and High Pike where I was exposed to the full might of the wind that was coming in from the west. Fortunately, for most of the climb the dry stone wall along the ridge acted as a handy shelter, but once at the summit of Dove Crag I was subjected to the full might of the gale-force winds. By descending the eastern slopes behind the summit I found some shelter and had my lunch. Despite the wind this was a fantastic climb and reminded me of all the wonderful things that I love about walking in the Lake District. Aside from the amazing views I love walking over rough, rugged ground where you have to think about your every step as you climb, which I was getting a lot of during this ascent. It makes me yearn for more, so it’s just a pity about the weather.

While making my way across to Hart Crag I was hit by hail, and then while crossing over to Fairfield I had more hail. The hail in the high wind was quite painful if I turned my face into it, so I didn’t stay long at the summit of Fairfield but quickly headed down the screes to Grisedale Tarn. On my very first visit to the Lake District in 2002, after going up Helvellyn, I made my way past Grisedale Tarn and up these scree onto Fairfield, and I remember finding them tough and vowed never to go up them again, and I never have. On all subsequent visits to Fairfield I have avoided them, but now I descended them and they didn't seem as bad going down – and fortunately all traces of my knee problem from the beginning of the year has vanished. From the lake I climbed the interminable zigzags opposite the screes and I thought I would never make it up to the top. It almost killed me, I mustn't be fit! Maybe I’ve put on so much weight over the winter that I can’t get up a steep slope like the Dollywagon zigzags without stopping every couple of steps for a breath. I need to do a few more walks, I’m obviously getting too fat!

When I finally got up to Dollywagon Pike there were excellent views just as I remembered from when I was last there two years ago, and again I took many photographs from the excellent vantage point of the summit. From there I walked over High Crag and Nethermost Crag on my way to the granddaddy of them all, Helvellyn. It was still windy but endurable, and it was still not too bad until I got up to the top of Helvellyn. At the summit of the third highest mountain in England the clouds closed in, obscuring any views, and as I left it started raining. It wasn't too bad while I was at the summit but now with the the rain hammering hard into my face it had turned very nasty. Gingerly I made my way down the narrow northern ridge of Lower Man and with the rain still driving into my face I passed over Whiteside Bank. I had planned on ending the walk by going over Raise and beside the old mine flue but the wind, rain and clouds prompted me to cut short the walk slightly by descending into Keppel Cove on the old pony track. Dropping down into Glenridding it was still raining while I walked along the bottom of the valley to the youth hostel, but despite a wet end to the day it was still fantastic to be back in the Lakes on those rough, rocky paths; there is nothing better. Despite the fact that I hadn't gone anywhere I haven’t been before, and despite the weather, I still really enjoyed myself. Unfortunately I had to go home on Sunday, and I needed to get up early to do it, and the trains were still not running. It was an interesting day.