Glenderaterra and Lonscale Crags

Monday 18th December 2017

After the stresses and strains of the past year, it was wonderful to finally get a chance to be back to the Lake District, even if it was only on a short, three hour walk. I spent most of this day travelling and didn’t get into the Lake District until about three o’clock and at this time of the year it is getting dark by four o’clock. With very little light left I set off from the village of Threlkeld walking up the road below Blease Fell towards the Blencathra Centre. The valley paths between Threlkeld and Keswick along the course of the old railway line is currently impassable following the floods of December 2015, so instead I was heading uphill to take a route along the sides of the fells starting below Blease Fell at the western end of Blencathra. There were stunning views in the bright, setting sun as it shone on the fell and into the dramatic gorge formed by Blease Gill that leads up to the snow-lined edge above Knowe Crags. As I slowly circled round Blease Fell the sun slowly sank behind the fells below lovely blue skies streaked with wisps of cloud.

I was feeling overwhelmed with being back in the Lake District again. Apart my one day only walk up Scafell Pike in the summer, it had been a year since I was last there and I had really missed it and the fabulous walking that can be done in this wonderful area. The cares of the past year seemed to dissolve with every step that I made on the track and produced a euphoria within me that is better than anything that can be gained from bottle or tablet. I was back in the Lake District and my heart rejoiced and sang the praises of this tremendous region. I was not walking on the greatest footpath in the Lakes as it is too wide, but for me at that moment it was better than anything else. I was enjoying every step of this landrover track as it swung round the fell and into the valley of Glenderaterra Beck with the shadowed crags of Lonscale Fell looming darkly before me while I slowly made my way along the track to the head of the valley. Keeping to the main track I spurned all the short cuts that veered off to my left until the track reaches the main path that comes down from the Skiddaw House Youth Hostel.

Turning left I found that at this altitude and on this sheltered path below Lonscale Fell there was a significant amount of ice that required a lot of care to ensure that I didn’t slip and hurt myself, or worse. However this just made the walk even more exciting and thrilling. It was an adventure trying to negotiate this slippery path in the diminishing light and was actually quite fun, because it was slightly dangerous, in a very mild kind of way. The path was probably not that bad, but to my mind I was a brave and bold adventurer conquering a treacherous path through my skill and foolhardiness. Behind me the setting sun, invisible behind Lonscale Crags, was casting dramatic red colours across the clouds above the Back of Skiddaw, while I slowly, carefully, made my along this great Lakeland path. I had been on this path in diminishing light before, almost ten years ago, and I have often looked back on that walk with a peculiar sort of fondness for the night-time walking that I have hardly ever engaged in since.

At this time of the year I always make sure that I finish my walk before it starts to get dark, which is the wise course of action, and only an inexperienced error had left me walking in the dark ten years ago. Now I deliberately planned to end the walk in the dark following the exact same path that I had followed ten years ago just so I could get in a good walk despite having less than an hour of daylight at the start. There is a point towards the far end of Lonscale Crags where the path crosses the rocks, which in the twilight conditions and ice was really difficult, but eventually the path swung round to the southern slopes of Lonscale Fell which were ice-free so I was easily able to continue along the path. I now had a clear view of the sunset and although the sun had long since set there was still a wonderful display of varying colours from reds and yellows on the horizon slowly rising to deep blues high in the sky.

I had dug out my old head-torch, the same one that I had used ten years ago, for this walk but found that it was doing a very poor job of illuminating the path, possibly because it was still using the same batteries that I had used ten years ago. Fortunately, and wisely, I had brought a second torch with me that was a lot more powerful and brilliantly lit my path in the dark confines of Whit Beck and beyond. Upon reaching the Gale Road car park, at the foot of the popular Skiddaw footpath, I could have diverted off my route to reach the top of Loughrigg, which was not that far away, however by now it was getting really dark and it didn’t seem worth it. Instead I took the path that skirts the western slopes of Loughrigg descending through woodland all the way down into Keswick. Despite being a short walk, this was fabulous, made memorable due to the ice below Lonscale Crag and the night-time walking in the dark at the end. It was the relief that I was finally back in the Lake District after everything that has happened to me this year and that is what made this walk great.

The Recuperative Powers of a Good Walk

Saturday 14th October 2017

After my walk in the middle of July with my colleague from work, plans were soon made for a return visit to the Lake District to tackle Striding Edge, but once again the British weather intervened. I was keen to not see a repeat of the awful weather that we had endured on Scafell Pike, but good weather never seemed to materialise on a Saturday when it was convenient for us to go. The general trend of poor weather continued throughout the summer and autumn coinciding with a downturn in my state of mind. I was feeling very tired from stresses at work and then less than a week after coming back from the Lake District I was distressed to hear about the death of Chester Bennington, the lead singer of the rock band Linkin Park. I love their music and was greatly saddened and disillusioned by the loss. It has taken me a long time to get over his death and I believe if I’d been able to do a good walk it would have helped me recover sooner. For me there is nothing better for clearing my head of troubles than a walk through the beautiful British countryside with the sun shining overhead under clear blue skies.

If the time is short and the sun is shining, then I can get a quick recuperation by walking out of my door and going for a walk along Mill Lane between South Wigston and Blaby. Within a couple of minutes I am enjoying the sunshine and the quiet of the countryside and suddenly all my cares and worries seem less urgent. Just getting out of the house and breathing in fresh air with open skies above my head lifts my spirit better than anything else. For a more sustained recuperation, a Saturday with good weather is all I need to have me grabbing my rucksack and heading out for a day-long walk. Places like the Peak District are several hours drive away, so often I will drive just half an hour to north-west Leicestershire and Charnwood Forest where there is excellent opportunities for a good walk through ancient woodland and up small hills that are bestrewn with granite outcrops.

I have a walk that I devised that takes in much of this special landscape and takes me up to six hours to complete. I have done this walk many times always alternating the direction each time for variety. Despite how beneficial this walk would have been to me last summer I didn’t have a chance to re-walk it with poor weather and the demands of work preventing me from getting out, and my mental health suffered. My recovery started with my holiday in the Outer Hebrides at the end of August, however the weather was not good for most of the first week of that holiday and this did not improve my state of mind. On the Wednesday morning in Tarbert, on the isle of Harris, it was raining as I felt it had been all summer. I had not been lucky with the weather at Easter and I had been rained on in Glen Dessary at the beginning of June, so I was beginning to feel like the Travis song in wondering why it was always raining on me.

Thankfully the weather started to improve that day and for the rest of that holiday I had generally good weather and so my recovery had begun, but it was a slow process. September showed a continuation of the poor weather and prevented my colleague and me from going back to the Lake District. Finally in the middle of October, while the Lake District suffered under strong winds and rain, good weather came to Leicestershire on a Saturday. By this time I was feeling desperate for a good walk to clear my head, so I headed out to Charnwood Forest, even though it meant letting some people down as I felt that my mental health demanded that I go for a walk. The weather was unseasonably warm and I literally skipped along the path at the start through Swithland Woods. It felt wonderful to be out enjoying the countryside after so many months of being stuck behind a computer at work. I wasn’t going to describe the walk on this blog as it was the same walk that I have done many times before, so I didn’t take my camera.

The above picture was the only one that I took on the walk, with my mobile, in the Outwoods, but it does show the sunshine and that I had no expectations with this walk. I was finally carefree and able to enjoy the walk with no demands, not even from this blog. I had a great walk through Charnwood Forest in great weather and more than anything else it served to bring me out of the malaise that had been afflicting me since the summer. A great walk never fails to lift my spirits and the memory of a great walk often motivates me to get up and stop moping about. Many walks that I have done in the Lake District come to mind as excellent encouragements to go out and enjoy the British countryside. The longer I am absent from the Lake District the more keenly does my longing become and so it isn’t long before I am once more planning another holiday in this most special place. Whenever I am feeling down I need only to think of the Lake District and my soonest return to put all my worries into perspective.

Scafell Pike

Saturday 15th July 2017

Last year a colleague at work attempted to do the Three Peaks Challenge by walking up Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon, the highest peaks in Scotland, England and Wales, in the space of twenty-four hours. This he attempted to do with absolutely no previous experience of walking up mountains, but fortunately my colleagues challenge was well organised and when they came to an impassable stream they didn’t put themselves, and others, in danger by attempting to cross it. They wisely abandoned the ascent of Scafell Pike and settled for climbing the neighbouring Lingmell instead. The consequence was that my colleague had not made it to the summit of Scafell Pike, so this year he asked me if I would go with him for a walk up the mountain that he failed to summit last year.

A date in the middle of July was picked and the day before we drove up to the Wastwater Youth Hostel, but when we got up the following morning we found that the British weather had not been kind. You can never count on good weather in Britain, even in the summer, so if you pick a date a month in advance as we had done there is no predicting what the weather will be like. So it was that on that particular Saturday it was raining all day, but on the following days the weather was perfect with lovely blue skies. Unfortunately we were in the Lake District for just one day so I parked up at the village green in Wasdale Head and we set off towards Scafell Pike. The weather was abysmal as we set off through a field of herdwick sheep and over Lingmell Beck onto the western slopes of Lingmell where the views were non-existent with clouds that were so low that we could hardly see Wastwater. The rain was not heavy, merely a gentle drizzle, so we had hopes that during the course of the day the rain would stop and the weather improve (walkers are always hopeful!).

The path skirted around the lower slopes of Lingmell before coming round to join the main tourist path beside Lingmell Gill. Despite the poor weather there were many people on this very popular path, though most of them seemed to coming down the mountain even though it was only nine o’clock in the morning. We supposed that these were Three Peak Challengers who had climbed Ben Nevis the previous evening and travelled to the Lake District overnight in order to climb Scafell Pike, despite the rain, during the early hours of the morning. They have my pity as I have a low opinion of the Three Peaks Challenge, mainly because of all the travelling in between so I would prefer a challenge walk that takes place in just one area without having to be in a car for long stretches. I have no desire to do the National Three Peaks Challenge, though the Yorkshire Three Peaks Challenge does have some appeal as it takes place in just one area. Climbing up the path we eventually reached the ford over Lingmell Gill that had been impassable for my colleague last year.

There was no such problem now and we were able to cross the stream and continue our journey up Brown Tongue plunging into the clouds as we slowly made our way up the mountain. I must say the pace was a lot slower than it would have been if I was on my own and on the occasions when I was in front, whenever I looked back my colleague was often a long way back, so I had to stop and allow him to catch up. I am not used to walking with a companion and I was finding it difficult to keep at his pace. For me this walk was rather easy, compared with other walks that I have done, and especially so at this pace and on this good, well-made path. My colleague is not used to walking up mountains and he found the Three Peaks very challenging and this ascent was also exhausting for him. Slowly we made our way up the path with, for a time in the middle of the ascent, no one else around until eventually we reached Lingmell Col.

Now we were accompanied by many other people as we turned right and climbed all the way up the stony path to the summit that we thought we were never going to reach, the top of Scafell Pike. My colleague was overjoyed, raising his hands in triumph at reaching the summit of the mountain that had eluded him last year. It was getting windy and the rain was falling heavier now so it wasn’t long before we turned around and started heading back down to Lingmell Col, but rather than continuing back down the way we had come we turned right and took the Corridor Route. As the weather worsened I was actually beginning to enjoy the walk, as did my colleague, as we scrambled around the stunning rock-filled landscape that surrounds the top of the spectacular gullies of Piers Gill and Greta Gill. This path embodies the best of the Lake District, in a way that the tourist path up Brown Tongue cannot, and provided us with a thoroughly enjoyable walk, despite the worsening weather, along the Corridor Route and all the way down to Sty Head Pass.

There was a strong wind blowing through the pass that made for some really inhospitable conditions, so we quickly battled across and onto the bridlepath that heads down into Wasdale. This path is initially surprisingly scrambly, which in the poor weather required some extra care. I have used this path just once before, many years ago, in ascent. Eventually the path eased as we crossed the southern slopes of Great Gable with the awesome crags of this great mountain slowly disappearing into the mist. We were now finally able to stop and have a belated lunch before coming back down into the valley and follow the path back to the village green. The weather never improved, and in fact worsened, but although it would have been wonderful to have done this walk in good weather, we still managed to have a fantastic walk. Bad weather does add a certain thrill to a walk that you don’t get in good weather, even though it takes away so much more. A walk in the Lake District is always fantastic and a walk up Scafell Pike that includes the Corridor Route is great whatever the weather.

The Great Ridge between Mam Tor and Lose Hill

Saturday 17th June 2017

Six years ago I went with a group of guys from my church, Life Church Wigston, to North Wales where we climbed Snowdon. Unfortunately this was not the start of regular walks for the men of the church and instead it was not until last June that we attempted something similar. This time we stayed a little closer to home in going to the Peak District, and this time not everyone was up for a walk. After parking in Castleton half the men disappeared into the nearby caves or shops while the other half donned their walking boots and set off through the village towards Cave Dale. The temperature had been climbing throughout the previous week so that by the weekend the weather was possibly the hottest of the whole summer, or at least it felt like it. The temperature rose inexorably during the course of the day, but when we started it was still quite agreeable so that the short, sharp climb through the dramatic valley of Cave Dale was not as exhausting as it could have been. This is a stunning valley that was created when a cave collapsed revealing some stunning limestone features on the steep slopes of the valley.

I had never walked through this ravine before, which is surely a shocking omission considering how much walking I’ve done in this area over the years, so I must thank the person who decided on this walk as he astonishingly managed to take me to places that I had not previously visited. At the top of the valley where the steep gradient finally eases we all stopped for a much needed rest despite not having walked very far. When I am walking on my own I rarely stop, and only really for my lunch, but since I was now walking with guys who are not as used to walking as I am, frequent rests were to be the norm. The path continued to climb albeit gradually taking us onto Bradwell Moor where buttercups decorated the grassy floor underneath dazzling blue skies. On reaching a junction of paths we turned right onto a farmer’s track that took us round towards the north, and Mam Tor. With this imposing hill in our sights we made our way along the track past a farmer rounding up some rams and eventually reached the road at the top of Winnat’s Pass.

At this point, around lunchtime, with some clouds passing overhead, our thoughts turned to food so we stopped at what looked to me like a small, disused quarry, but which is only marked on maps as Windy Knoll. After eating we set off once more towards Mam Tor and almost immediately started climbing with the gradient soon getting very steep as we slogged up a paved path in the hot weather all the way up to the summit of Mam Tor. Despite hazy skies, the views in all directions were stunning with the high plateau of Kinder Scout spread out to our north and Castleton nestling in the valley to the south, but it was in our onward direction that my eye was attracted, east along the Great Ridge. This ridge marks an important divide between the Dark Peak in the north and the White Peak to the south, gritstone on one side and limestone on the other. After resting for a while at the top of Mam Tor we set off along this great ridge basking in the hot weather.

Slowly we made our way along the ridge gradually descending until we reached the hill pass marked by Hollins Cross where we started to climb once more above Barker Bank. By now most of us were beginning to wilt in the heat (and burn from the sun), so we did not fancy the prospect of the steep climb ahead up Back Tor. All except one person wanted to bypass Back Tor and Lose Hill by taking a path that keeps to the contours along the southern slopes of the hill. The exception was either a lot fitter or a lot stupider than the rest as I almost ran up Back Tor so by the time I reached the top the heat was pouring off me, but I paused only long enough to take a long drink of water before continuing along the ridge to climb to the top of Lose Hill where after tapping the view finder I set off down the other side of the hill. By the time I reached the first fence the rest of the guys were already passing by on the other side and I was able to join them as they began their descent.

This walk had been based on one from the www.britishwalks.org website, but not only had we done the walk in the opposite direction I had suggested that we extend the walk into the village of Hope. However, when we reached Losehill Farm everyone was feeling so tired we didn’t take the turning towards Hope, but followed the access road down to Spring House Farm. This was not actually the prescribed route which crosses a number of fields to Riding House Farm, but we were all so tired, including me, that we didn’t care. Turning right at Spring House Farm we followed the track past Losehill Hall eventually reaching Hollowford Road just after passing a Training & Conference Centre. Castleton was now just a short distance away where everyone headed for the nearest pub to take some much needed liquid refreshment. I had been talking about walking all the way back to our accommodation, at Bushy Heath Farm, on far side of Bradwell Moor, however this would have meant climbing Cave Dale again and in this heat I just didn’t have the energy.

On paper this was a easy walk for me, but during the afternoon the heat had got to unbearable levels and I had probably worn myself out by rushing up Back Tor. Despite the heat it was great to do this walk along the Great Ridge with a great bunch of guys. I have walked between Mam Tor and Lose Hill many times over the years having first done the ridge with my father while I was at University, and it was great to be back and enjoy the fabulous views in stunning weather with some of the men from my church. I hope we have the opportunity to do similar walks in the future.

Bluebells in the Charnwood Forest

Monday 1st May and Saturday 13th May 2017

I love to see bluebells in the spring when these lovely blue flowers carpet the floor of ancient woodland in Britain. Although not nationally known for its bluebells, the Charnwood Forest in Leicestershire has many splendid displays so I don’t have to go far to see these fabulous flowers and one of the best walks for seeing them is one that I do many times during the year. My Charnwood Forest Round has many ups and downs designed to keep me hill-fit, but it also passes through many woods that around May Day always put on a great display. That was why on the May Day Bank Holiday this year I made my way to Swithland Woods for my regular walk. Starting from the north car park I headed through the wood and was immediately greeted by some clumps of bluebells, but not carpets of them, although there were also quite a few wood anemones. The main reason for a lack of bluebells in this wood, and many others, is a build-up of scrub, predominantly bramble. These rob the bluebells of sunlight and prevent them achieving the carpet coverage that I love. Managed woods where the scrub has been kept under control produce better displays of bluebells.

After this taster of things to come I passed over Old John hill in Bradgate Park, which is not known for its bluebells however there were a few isolated examples peeking through the old bracken. After Bradgate Park, my walk passes through areas of new woodland created for the National Forest where bluebells are rare, however there are some small, private areas of ancient woodland where fantastic displays of bluebells can be seen. I could only look from the fence into these woods, but I think this is to its advantage as then no one is able to trample over the bluebells and ruin them, thereby ensuring a great coverage. I passed many examples of these private woods as I made my way along my round until eventually I reached the Ulverscroft nature reserve, which has restricted access although I am able to enter as a member of the local Wildlife Trust. Once again bluebells were not as abundant as I would have liked due to the scrub, but if you looked in the right places then there were large clumps of them in many places.

The weather was not great on this walk and at this point it was raining, however as I passed through the Ulverscroft marshes the sun finally came out lighting the wood anemones and bluebells that littered the woodland floor. After making my way up to Beacon Hill I joined a permissive path that passes some tremendous displays of bluebells as it makes its way down to the Wood Brook valley. I could now see some quite expensive carpets of bluebells and more was to come when I finally reached the Outwoods. I was beginning to suspect that this was not a great year for bluebells as I had not been seeing as extensive a display of bluebells as in past years. Many bluebells were still in bud, but some were already going to seed so maybe the weather conditions had not suited them. Nevertheless the best bluebells on this walk were, as always, in the Outwoods and with the sun coming out at just the right moment the bluebells were being displayed at their best.

There are many more bluebell woods in the Charnwood Forest and almost two weeks later I started another walk to take in some of them. This time, I parked at Burroughs Wood and set off out of the wood along the National Forest Way through new woodland devoid of wild flowers, however soon I entered the more established Martinshaw Wood where immediately I saw bluebells growing in isolated clumps. After crossing the M1 motorway that cuts straight through the wood I took a winding route around the edge of the wood seeking out every little sign of the flowers, but I did not find huge amounts until I came across a large group of bluebells near the north-eastern corner. Returning to the National Forest Way I crossed over the A50 dual-carriageway into Lady Hay Wood where I found a revelation. Unexpectedly this small wood was full of bluebells and although the map doesn’t indicate public access through the wood, except on the footpath around the edge, there were narrow paths through the bluebells that I took advantage of to ensure a thorough exploration of the bluebells.

The rain that was falling briefly at this point did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm and it was with reluctance that I eventually returned to the National Forest Way and continued heading to Newton Linford and up Old John. I have been to Bradgate Park many times in my life, most recently on May Day, and now although I had entered the park in a different place I retraced my steps of then into Swithland Woods and along the road into the village of Woodhouse Eaves. At that point I branched off my Charnwood Forest Round route and headed straight towards Beacon Hill via Broombriggs Farm Country Park. It was great to renew my acquaintance with old routes up Beacon Hill and when I reached the summit I was rewarded with a bit of sunshine for the first time on this walk. At this point I decided I would try to walk the Three Peaks of Leicestershire and I had already bagged two of those peaks in Old John and Beacon Hill, so now I headed west passing underneath the M1 motorway and into the Charley Woods.

There was quite a satisfying selection of bluebells in Charley Woods and I enjoined taking a circuit through Burrow Wood where there were extensive displays either side of the path. Eventually I left the Charley Woods behind and made my way towards Bardon Hill where there has been a lot of encroachment recently onto the paths from the nearby quarry. Many diversions were necessary before and after Bardon Hill due to these extensions, particularly after, but before then when I reached the established woodland that lies immediately east of the quarry I took a slender path through this woodland not really knowing where it was going to take me until eventually I emerged on the heathland within sight of the summit of Bardon Hill, my third and final peak of the day. Previously when I have done the Three Peaks I have headed back to Bradgate Park through Markfield, but this walk was quite a bit longer having started in Burroughs Wood, so instead of heading east I now followed the Ivanhoe Way south past Stanton under Bardon until eventually I reached Thornton Reservoir.

It was interesting retracing my steps along the Ivanhoe Way that I had previously walked just a year earlier and as I walked beside Thornton Reservoir the weather cleared once more revealing gorgeous evening sunshine that accompanied me as I joined the National Forest Way once again following the trail all the way into Burroughs Wood. There were fabulous displays of bluebells in this wood, but many of them were going to seed possibly as a result of the unseasonably hot weather that we had enjoyed in early May. This stressed the bluebells forcing many to bolt, going over to seed, however the bluebells in Burroughs Wood still looked great in the sunshine. I saw many bluebells on these two walks, at times seemingly everywhere and more than satisfied my love of bluebells for another year. This second walk took me over eight hours whereas my familiar round doesn’t take me more than six. I loved the chance to stretch my legs on this walk and it did wonders to lift my spirit. I love to see the bluebells in the Charnwood Forest.

The High Peak Trail and Gratton Dale

Saturday 8th April 2017

At the start of my walk through Lathkill Dale, described last week, I walked along a section of the High Peak Trail which caught my interest such that just two weeks later I returned to the Peak District during another fabulous weekend of weather. This time, I caught the train to the station of Cromford and after walking along the road for a spell I came to the Cromford Wharf where the Cromford Canal has its northern terminus. As I made my way along the canal early morning mist lay in the Derwent Valley and it was gorgeous to be out walking again at this early hour through the peaceful tree-filled landscape. Soon the railway and the River Derwent came alongside as I continued this pleasant walk beside the canal until I reached High Peak Junction where the old Cromford and High Peak Railway started beside the Cromford Canal before climbing into the Peak District. Therefore it was at this point that I came off the canal and joined the start of the High Peak Trail as it sets off up the first of several steep inclines.

The Cromford and High Peak Railway was one of the first railways to be built, in 1831, and has many characteristics that were not repeated in later lines. The gradients on the line, required to get over the plateau of the High Peak, are exceptionally steep for a railway with this initial gradient at one in eight, and also since the line was built on the canal principle of following contours, it has many tight curves that were later to create problems for train operations. The railway has long since been abandoned, but it now makes for a great walk as I toiled up the steep gradients under leafless trees and onto the open plateau of the High Peak with cloudless skies overhead. The High Peak Trail takes a route just outside the southern edge of the Peak District past terrain that is largely unexplored by me, which I felt was a shame, especially when passing Black Rocks, a popular picnic location and prominent hill that overlooks Cromford.

The views into the Derwent Valley were great, though hazy, however some of the views from this section of the trail is of quarrying, past and present, but the view at my feet was fabulous with celandines and dandelions lining the trail with many other wild flowers and the promise that many other wonderous flowers would appear later in the spring and bring further delight. Eventually I passed into the Peak District and the scenery became the usual High Peak rolling hill and drystone wall which became rather repetitive after many hours of walking, so it was a relief when I eventually reached the car park at Friden that I had used two weeks previously and finally left the High Peak Trail venturing down Long Dale. This valley seemed to be full to overflowing with celandines that covered the grassy floor making for a pleasurable walk as I passed by the bare grassy sides of the valley. Upon turning into Gratton Dale trees now filled the valley and many more wild flowers decorated the scene and while the path through the valley had clearly recently been very muddy, fortunately the warm weather had almost solidified the ground sufficiently to ease walking.

This valley was a fabulous place to walk and I was disappointed when I reached Dale End where I took a track that took me through celandine covered fields to the village of Elton. After passing through the village I joined the Limestone Way where celandines continued to accompany me as I made my way around the village of Winster and over a hill to Upper Town and Bonsall where I left the Limestone Way and took a track around Ball Eye Quarry. This track also teemed with celandines especially on the steep descent into the village of Cromford. I seemed to have been overloaded with celandines on this walk and lining this path above Cromford there must have been more than anywhere else. Unfortunately by this time I was getting concerned about getting to the station in time to catch the train, so I almost ran down the hill barely noticing all the celandines as I rushed past and through the village of Cromford, but I actually got to the station in plenty of time to catch the packed train.

I must have covered a long distance on this walk, at least twenty miles, and through maintaining a brisk pace for much of its duration I completed the whole walk in eight hours. There were some great sections of this walk, but there were also other moments like the second half of my time on the High Peak Trail where the time seemed to drag. I love walking at this time of the year if only because of the wild flowers that can be seen, and this walk was especially spectacular for wild flowers. I must have seen millions of celandines and is the defining characteristic of the walk and what I remember most about it.

Lathkill Dale

Saturday 25th March 2017

Once a week, I write this blog describing a walk that I have done recently during my holidays, however since these holidays are all concentrated in the spring and summer by the time I’m getting towards the end of the year I don’t have any walks left to put on the blog. Fortunately my holidays are not the only walking that I do as a bit of good weather on a Saturday is all the incentive I need to grab my rucksack and head out for a walk. At the start of spring this year just such conditions brought me out to a small car park in the Peak District beside the High Peak Trail, which is a trail that follows the course of the old Cromford and High Peak Railway. Heading north and passing the Friden brickworks I was striding confidently and briskly along the track eating up the miles. It was great to be walking in the Peak District again and after the long winter finally be able to really stretch my legs again with the great Peak District views before me of rolling hills, dry stone walls and blue skies. The sun was shining brightly even though at this early hour it was still rather cold. Just after passing the site of Hurdlow station I finally came off the old railway line and headed across a couple of fields, over the Buxton Road and along the Hutmoor Butts track towards the village of Monyash.

Passing just to the north of the village I entered Bagshaw Dale at the western tip of Lathkill Dale. I have walked through Lathkill Dale many times going back many years and it has held special memories for me over all those years. I felt that I hadn’t been through Lathkill Dale for quite a while so I was eager to renew my acquaintance with this extra special valley by walking the entire length from start to finish. I don’t think I’ve ever done the western tip before as I usually turn off before reaching the end, which is a shame as it is an amazing place. The limestone walls close in spectacularly, which this early in the year created a dark and very cold environment with ice in amongst the boulders that littered the bottom of the valley. There was an eerie and claustrophobic feeling between the narrow rocks walls, but the valley soon opened up again though still with a rough, rocky surface underfoot as I slowly made my way down the valley until I eventually reached the point where the river comes out of the rock face on the side of the valley.

At this time of the year the water was overflowing the sides and flooding the bottom of the valley pouring over the grassy floor and often encroaching onto the footpath, but I did not find this much of a problem for me. Celandines decorated the grasslands adding a delightful sparkle to the surroundings that are dominated by limestone. On reaching the junction with Cales Dale the number of people increased significantly and taking advantage of this attractive location I stopped to have my lunch. The scenery was breathtakingly beautiful in the sunny weather and brought to mind many previous visits to this location since I was a child. Beyond this point the valley plunges into woodland and the path improves so that I was now able to simply enjoy the surroundings under leafless trees and with many delicious wild flowers at my feet. I had a wonderful walk through the woods at the bottom of this spectacular narrow valley beside crystal clear waters in lovely sunshine. Many other people were also walking through the valley and justifiably so as Lathkill Dale is one of the best limestone valleys in the country.

After passing the Over Haddon road the valley opens out with a series of weirs created to aid with fishing and there were many people to be seen engaged in this activity. My walking was now even more sedate as the river slowly turns to the south until it reaches Conskbury Bridge where the delights sadly end. The valley has now broadened with relatively gentle gradients on the western slopes of the river and this is where the footpath now passes until it reaches the road at Alport. Now I turned away from the River Lathkill and changed my plans as my progress through Lathkill Dale had been so slow I didn’t have time for my planned, though possibly overoptimistic, excursion onto Stanton Moor. Whenever I have done a walk through Lathkill Dale in the past I have almost always also included a walk through the neighbouring smaller valley of Bradford Dale and I could not resist the temptation to once again pass through this stunning valley that is enclosed by trees with several old weirs along its length that add to the beauty of the surroundings.

Turning off the main path at the western end of the valley I followed the stream through open farmland and into a narrow wooded ravine, signposted as Rusden Wood, which was covered in celandines and wood anemones with the slender stream winding a course through the idyllic scene. This was a gorgeous, spellbinding place, but I didn’t know how I had got there, even though it was totally enthralling. I had been trying to head towards the end of Gratton Dale, but eventually I realised that I had turned west when I had intended on going east and so I was now nowhere near Dale End. Rather than going out of my way to head towards Gratton Dale I decided to leave that valley for another day and took a track over Gratton Moor and down into Long Dale not far from my car. The weather by this time was really warm and it had been sunny all day which made for excellent conditions to walk and I had made the most of them with an excellent walk in the fabulous Peak District.

Eriskay, Barra and Vatersay

Wednesday 30th and Thursday 31st August 2017

I woke at the start of this day, on the Isle of Eriskay, to blue skies, but it wasn’t long before it started raining and so once again I had to pack up a wet tent. Therefore I was in full waterproofs when I walked from the end of the causeway into the town, Am Baile, on Eriskay, past the Am Politician Inn, named after the ship that wrecked just off this island laden with whisky galore, and onto Coilleag a’ Phrionnsa, the Prince’s Strand, where Bonnie Prince Charlie first set foot on British soil. By the time I reached this small beach the rain had stopped and the sun came out affording me with glorious views across the sea that reminded me of the excellent weather I had enjoyed when I was last on Eriskay two years ago. That day I had spent all afternoon on the island, but this time I didn’t linger and instead caught the ferry across to Barra while several rain showers passed overhead. One last shower came and went while I walked along the road from the ferry terminal to Barra Airport, which is actually just a beach: the only airfield where scheduled flights use a beach as the runway. There was a plane waiting to take off so I deliberately hung around to see it do so, while looking for the route of the Hebridean Way.

This was nowhere to be seen and to add to my annoyance I did not have the GPS waypoints for this section. For the rest of the trail I had used waypoints gathered from the visitouterhebrides.co.uk website, but was lacking this point. I picked what I thought was the best place to start and soon after the tiny aeroplane taxied along the beach to the water’s edge, turned around, headed into the wind and was soon in the air on its way to Glasgow. I turned around and continued to climb the boggy hillside where I was soon rewarded by the sight of a Hebridean Way signpost that directed me over the hill, around the eastern slopes of Beinn Eireabhal and down the other side. These posts were relatively clear, nicely spaced apart and with a faint path in between took me on an interesting route in the improving weather and with great views over the hills of Barra I was happy to be walking in amongst hills again. This was an enjoyable walk that was reminiscent of walks in the Lake District, and it is a pity that elsewhere on the Hebridean Way, except for in Harris, there isn’t scenery like this. I was enjoying the good weather as I crossed a road and followed a muddy track past Loch an Dùin and Loch na Cartach before coming off the track I headed uphill.

The posts took me up the grassy slopes until I came to the top of the pass between Beinn Bhirisig and Grianan where I had walked two years ago heading north. Now I went through the pass and turned south onto a well-constructed path that keeps to the western edge of Grianan. This path was severely eroded by the heavy rains of the previous week and required some precarious footwork from me to negotiate the severe damage to the Hebridean Way. Eventually the problems were all passed and the path slowly descended into the valley of Borve where I joined a track that took me to the main road near the west coast of Barra. A walk along this road beside the stunning coastline brought me to the beautiful beach of Bàgh Halamain where a signposted path took me up onto a craggy landscape decorated with magnificently crafted cairns. I don’t know the reason for these cairns, but the posts took me past them eventually leading me to the site of an ancient fort, Dùn Bàn, though just before reaching there a Hebridean Way post directed me away from the fort and up the steep hillside inland. With hindsight I should have camped at that point near to the fort, but instead I started the steep climb that soon wore me out and prompted me to stop as soon as the terrain levelled slightly and make camp.

The weather during the evening was stunning with amazing views out to sea, as I had enjoyed for most of the day on the fabulous islands of Eriskay and Barra, and I had really enjoyed the hill walking. The following morning I had a tortuous time as midges plagued me under overcast skies with no wind while I broke camp and throughout my climb up, so that it was a relief when I finally reached the top of the pass and blessedly get some fresh air. I had now reached the highest point on the whole Hebridean Way and a faint path linked by the familiar posts took me steeply down saturated ground all the way to the sea. The road at the bottom of the path took me over the causeway onto the final island of my Hebridean trek, Vatersay, and a frustratingly prolonged walk along this road brought me to the Vatersay village hall where the Hebridean Way ends at a metal memorial. It is a pity that the Hebridean Way could not come up with a better way to end, or more usually start the trail, as I had tried to do two years ago when I did my own Hebridean walk.

From the end of the Hebridean Way I started the Vatersay Circular Walk that I did two years ago, then as a prelude to my trek, but now as a sort of victory lap. From the west beach, poorly sighted posts took me over an ancient fort and through tricky terrain until I reached the delightful south beach. Two years ago I had tried to reach the southernmost point on the island, but there was no such silliness this time and after a quiet lunch on the tranquil beach I made my way through Vatersay township, along the stunning east beach and back to the start (or finish as in my case) of the Hebridean Way. Slowly I made my way along the road all the way onto Barra until finally I reached Castlebay where a ferry the following morning would take me back to the mainland. I found the Hebridean Way surprisingly physically demanding leaving me with aches from head to toe having gained loads of insect bites and blisters, and with a rucksack that never seemed to be comfortable. I had expected well-made footpaths so I was frustrated to discover long sections of the Hebridean Way has no path whatsoever and West Harris was the worst offender.

It takes a lot more effort when there is no path and you are wading through knee deep heather on unstable ground. However I’m sure that the Hebridean Way will mature into a very good trail once everything is bedded in and established with clear paths beaten underfoot, but until then it is a strenuous trail that will try the stamina of any walker who attempts it. I was unfortunate to do the trail just as it received tremendous amounts of rain and to be wild camping in midge-loving weather. At a drier and colder time of the year I may have found the Hebridean Way easier, and especially if I had done the walk in the opposite direction with the prevailing wind behind me.

The South Uist Machair

Tuesday 29th August 2017

This was the third time that I have walked across the machair of South Uist, the coastal plains that provide rich farmland for the locals and also a rich tapestry of meadows that are covered in wild flowers in the summer and are a wonderful kaleidoscope of colours entrancing the eye with every step. When I first visited the Outer Hebrides, in 2011, I walked from the Howmore Hostel as far as Daliburgh where I caught a bus back. In 2015, while making my way north along the length of the Western Isles I followed the coast up, but by the time I reached Howmore I was really tired even though this should be an easy stage of the Hebridean Way. There are no hills and the way keeps to good tracks all the way so it is a mystery why I found this walk so tough last time. On that occasion, I didn’t know the actual route of the Hebridean Way, so I had made up my own route as I went along, but as it turns out I was pretty much on the actual route. Now, two years later, I was retracing my steps all the way along the coast between the extensive beach to my right, looking out over the mighty Atlantic, and the broad machair grasslands to my left. I think the problem I had in 2015 was with my navigation despite how surprising that sounds with the sea always by my side, though that philosophy took me onto some very rough paths as I wandered around quite a bit.

Soon after I leaving Howmore on this walk I immediately went the wrong way, going straight on to a quiet road where the Hebridean Way turns right after crossing the Abhainn Ròg. Once I’d realised my mistake I decided that from then on I would keep strictly to the Hebridean Way and not veer from it at any moment, however the signage is not great so I had to make frequent use of GPS waypoints to ensure that I kept to the route that doesn’t always keep to the coast, but often takes a route along farm tracks through the machair. The weather was quite good for this walk with long spells of sunshine that made for a pleasant day, despite the strong winds coming off the sea, with easy going tracks that enabled me to keep up a swift pace while appreciating the surrounding machair. There are few fences to interrupt the extensive views over the machair plains that are sympathetically farmed to benefit the environment with large tracts just left to go wild. After many miles I reached a signpost that directed me onto the beach that for most of the morning the Hebridean Way had been staying away from.

Now I took a sandy track through the dunes and onto the beach where despite the strong winds I had a wonderful stroll under blue skies over the white sands. Behind the dunes is a gold course that must rank as being one of the most spectacular, undoubtedly windiest, course anywhere in the country. It is this that had forced the Hebridean Way off the machair and onto the beach or along the edge of the dunes. After walking many miles over the machair, this was a nice change of scene, but I tired of it long before I eventually reached the marker that took me off the beach and past some ancient roundhouses. The day before, when I’d stopped at the Co-op in Creagorry, I had tried to buy enough food to take me all the way to Castlebay, but it wasn’t long before I realised that I had forgotten to buy the oatcakes that I eat with both my breakfast and my lunch. In 2015 I had diverted from the coast to the Co-op in Daliburgh, which is something that I had been trying to avoid this time, but without consciously making the decision my feet failed to keep to the trail and instead I headed towards Daliburgh. Looking at how much further I had to walk I realised that I had been making such good time I could afford to waste an hour walking all the way to Daliburgh before heading all the way back.

Returning to the point where I left the Hebridean Way I took the turning that I had earlier missed to resume my trek along the Hebridean Way swiftly making my way south through the machair battling against the strong winds until I mercifully turned the corner onto the south coast of South Uist and put the winds onto my back. Two years ago I had taken a route between the sea and the back of the Polochar Inn, but the Hebridean Way goes around the inn following the road, presumably to stop people walking past the inn as I did two years ago. In order to keep strictly to the Hebridean Way I now followed the road and headed along the coast past the camp site that I had stayed at previously (showing that I must have been walking significantly quicker than I had two years ago) and all the way along the road until I reached the Eriskay causeway. The good weather finally failed just before I reached the causeway with a short, heavy downpour that saturated me before I could get my waterproofs on. The strong winds continued on the mile long crossing of the causeway with more showers following so that by the time I reached Eriskay I just wanted to find somewhere to shelter from the wind.

Climbing over the mound to my left as soon as I reached the island I dropped down away the road onto a heavily overgrown spit of land that looks out over the Sound of Eriskay and there I threw up my tent. This walk could best be described as a march where I tried to take advantage of the smooth surface under foot to cover as many miles as I could even though the walk the previous day had already worn me out. My feet was aching at the end of that day, but they were thankfully much better when I got up in the morning; however the long walk here did nothing to help. I was once again really tired when I reached Eriskay with my legs and feet now in agony. I had gone into this holiday expecting it to be easy because I wasn’t going up any mountains, but instead I was finding it to be really tough, which surprised me. I had pushed myself on this walk, and although it had been enjoyable it had taken a heavy toll on me, so that I was relieved at the thought that the end of the Hebridean Way was now only a couple of days away.

Benbecula and South Uist

Monday 28th August 2017

After a tumultuous night beside the coast of the small Hebridean island of Benbecula with the wind howling at my tent, somehow I woke to find that my sturdy little tent was still intact even though it was still being battered about by the wind that had now moved to the west. I had positioned my tent behind Culla Bay, not far from Balivanich, where I thought it was sheltered from the winds only for those winds to move during the night and attempt to knock my tent sideward. The Hebridean Way crosses the sands of Culla Bay, but with the rain and strong winds I decided to, once I had hastily broken camp, make a course behind the shelter of the narrow strip of dunes between the beach and the machair farmland behind. At the southern end of the bay I took a quick look at the beach, but in the harsh weather it did not look appealing, however I was now back on the Hebridean Way which leaves the beach at this point to come onto the coastal road until another broad sweep of sandy beach appears. A strong smell of rotting seaweed filled the air and didn’t prompt me to follow the Hebridean Way onto the beach, but after a short spell along the top of the dunes eventually I did come down onto the sands.

It was quite enjoyable walking along the white sands of this beach despite the wind howling at me from off the sea, though it helped that the rain had mostly stopped. A thick line of foam from the whipped seas lined the edge of the tide and was being blown across the sands as I headed south. When I reached the southern end the rain had started up again so I came back off the beach, while the Hebridean Way follows the coast around the headland of Sithean Bhuirgh. I was getting quite wet from the rain being blown into my face, so I was glad to turn away from the headwind and make my way along a farmer’s track across the machair to reach the coastal road at the township of Borve. Curiously the rain seemed to stop as soon as I had come off the beach and by the time I reached the road there was a noticeable brightening of the sky. The Hebridean Way swings round the headland to follow the southern shore of Benbecula whereas I walked beside the road until I was eventually rejoined by the trail in Liniclate at the point that it comes off the beach. I never saw any sign of the Hebridean Way coming onto the road, but it should be between Liniclate School and the Dark Island Hotel.

Continuing along the road and onto the main road I stopped at the Co-op in Creagorry for supplies and when I came out I was astonished to see blue skies and sunshine. In the improving weather I made my way over the causeway to my sixth island on this trek, South Uist. When I walked the length of the Outer Hebrides two years ago, making up my own route before the Hebridean Way had been completed, I had taken a route right through the middle of M.O.D. Hebrides, a weapons Test and Evaluation Range in the north-eastern corner of South Uist. Fortunately for me it had not been active at the time, but the Hebridean Way cannot take that route so soon after reaching South Uist I now turned right away from the route that I had taken two years ago and headed along the quiet road to Ardmore. Several showers came and went at this point meaning that my waterproofs were still required until after a prolonged walk along the road where a familiar Hebridean Way signpost appeared directing me across the rain-soaked moor.

There was no trace of a path or any sign of directions for where I should be going so after wading through very wet ground I eventually made my way to a pole carrying electricity cables. From the vantage of this oasis I could see a green lane and once I reached that I had a relatively drier walk until a road came to my rescue. On this road was a sign proclaiming the Lochcarnon Community Windfarm, while in the distance three wind turbines could be seen with a wide gravel road heading off towards them. The Hebridean Way follows this stony road, but it was horrible to walk upon for my tortured feet and seemed to go on for ever while the apparently small turbines grew bigger and bigger until when I was eventually standing underneath them they were enormous and seemed very scary as the blades made ominous whooshing sounds. The weather by this point was amazing so I stopped for my lunch sitting on one of the enormous, discarded reels of electrical cabling not far from the start of a footpath that heads back across the moor.

This is an excellent, well-made path that was a joy to walk upon after the slippery stones on the road, but all too soon the path ended and I was left to make my way across the heather moor with just a line of wooden posts to mark my route. The scarcity of posts and the failure of the good path made me very depressed and fed up with the Hebridean Way that I now considered to be a boggy route, cheaply made, across waterlogged ground. I was cursing the makers of the Hebridean Way and my decision to walk upon it until finally I reached a well-made bridge across the outflow of Loch Bee where a good, gravel path resumed and took me to the main road near the large statue of Our Lady of the Isles. After a distance on this road I turned off onto the small road to Loch Sgioport that I had walked upon two years ago and on that occasion I had come across a well-made path that at the time I had wondered whether it was part of the Hebridean Way, and now I know that it is. However I was disappointed to discover a mixture of surfaces with some very good paths in places and also some very wet ground with occasional marker posts, but in the good weather it was still good to walk through the picturesque South Uist landscape with the three peaks of the island, Thacla, Beinn Choradail and Beinn Mhòr, dominating the view.

After the heavy rains of the last week all the lochs and rivers were full to overflowing and I suppose this was why the paths were very boggy, but I was not in the mood to consider this. My feet were really aching with blisters and goodness knows what else afflicting them, while I was really tired following the strong winds overnight and I had run out of water at lunchtime. And added to all that, throughout the day I had been heading into a strong wind thanks to my brilliant decision to do the Hebridean Way in the wrong direction, north to south, so I suppose it is no wonder that I was not really appreciating the trail at this point. When I reached the main road I crossed over and took a side road through Drimsdale and the machair to the west coast of the island a short distance from the youth hostel at Howmore. This was a very tiring day that had started poorly in bad weather and although the weather improved my mood did not.

Benbecula and Ruabhal

Sunday 27th August 2017

I walked most of this stage of the Hebridean Way when I was in the Outer Hebrides in 2015 despite making up my own way up the length of the Western Isles while the Hebridean Way was in the process of being constructed. On the way I found little sections of the trail that I was able to follow including the section at the start of this day. I had camped beside the muddy river that runs between the fresh water loch of Loch a’ Bharpa and the sea loch of Loch Euphort. After crossing the river on a solidly built bridge, a good path runs along the side of Bagh Orasaigh, but initially had come under attack from tall grasses that I had to wade through until the path climbed above the floodplain. I encountered a variety of surfaces on this path, starting with gravel but becoming a plastic mesh that I recalled walking on two years ago. At the time I had assumed this was a partly constructed path that would eventually be covered up with gravel, but it appears this was not the case, or maybe they just ran out of gravel. It was still dry underfoot which is all I ask for in a path, and this one took me around the western tip of Loch Euphort and onto the Sidinish road that I walked along for a spell before turning onto a track that climbed gradually uphill to continue my trek south.

After the tremendous weather that I had enjoyed the day before, on this walk conditions had now reverted to the usual Hebridean standard with grey, overcast skies and a strong breeze that was coming off the Atlantic Ocean. Despite the poor weather I had a good path to follow with some good views behind me over Loch Euphort and towards Beinn Langais, while underfoot various techniques were being used again including gravel, but also a wide turf path reminiscent of the narrower turf paths that I’d seen in Lewis. Sometimes the turf path would have the plastic mesh on top of the turf, but generally it was all dry underfoot and therefore a pleasure to walk upon despite the grey weather that was threatening rain. I enjoyed the stroll along this path looking out west towards the main road where the houses on the flat terrain looked very exposed to the winds coming off the Atlantic. After a short, steep descent that I distinctly remembered from last time the path deteriorated into a boggy track that eventually led to a gate that I also remembered from two years ago, however I knew that the Hebridean Way doesn’t join the main road at the same point where I had previously left it, opposite the Carinish Free Church.

Retracing my steps all the way back along the boggy track and up the short, steep ascent I was frustrated to discover that the Hebridean Way leaves the very good path just before the descent to head onto a pathless section heading east. There was no indication or reason why I would have expected the Hebridean Way to leave such a good path at this point and venture out across the bleak heather moor. Plain wooden posts marked the route across the moor until a faint path appeared that heads across the boggy terrain past a small collection of young deciduous trees to skirt the shores of Loch a’ Bharpa and pass a chambered cairn until I eventually reached the main road. By now it had started to rain heavily and as I made my way along the road and over the causeway I was severely whipped by the wind and rain that was making me wish I had never come to the Outer Hebrides. The tidal island of Grimsay was briefly visited before I crossed another causeway that leads to the island of Benbecula, where I finally got some shelter from the wind. The Hebridean Way is usually done in a south to north direction, but I was doing it in the opposite direction because I’d gone north two years ago.

The wind often comes from a south-westerly direction across the Western Isles, though until this point I hadn’t noticed, but now a strong head wind was blowing the rain straight into my face. When I got to the end of the causeway I turned left onto the Flodda road and during a brief respite from the wind and rain I had my lunch before turning south across the boggy moor at a Hebridean Way signpost that was pointing towards the only hill on Benbecula: Ruabhal. I very quickly lost all trace of a path in the saturated ground and while looking for the wooden posts that have usually guided me across Hebridean moorlands I saw one far to the east and headed towards it, but when I got closer I realised it was an ancient standing stone, so instead I turned towards the one marker that I could see: Ruabhal. Slowly I made my own way between two lochs and across the peaty, heather moor occasionally coming across a small wooden stake in the ground that probably marks the Hebridean Way or where the proper, larger posts should have been sited. As it is they were useless as a guide for navigation as they were far too small so I headed slowly up the hill until eventually I reached the top.

A respite from the rain had continued all the way up to the top of Ruabhal, but the views across the loch-scattered landscape were still lousy and they had been better the last time that I was on Ruabhal, even though it had not been sunny then. As the rain started to fall once again I made my way down a clear path that took me down the southern slopes of Ruabhal until I reached a track near to the point where I’d camped last time. Turning right along the track I passed the local authority recycling site and across the main road, and as the rain continued to fall, but now thankfully with a crosswind and not a headwind, I made my way west across Benbecula for several miles along a minor road until I reached the coastal road. After a short distance heading towards Balivanich I turned left to pass through the small community of Aird until I reached a small car park at the northern end of Culla Bay. Although it was still quite early in the afternoon I didn’t want to walk any further in this terrible weather, so I pitched up my tent where I hoped it would be sheltered from the winds behind the dunes. This had been another walk through hell even though the landscape and the footpaths had been good, but this time it was the weather that had ruined the day.

North Uist

Saturday 26th August 2017

After a day of rest on the lovely island of Berneray I resumed my walk along the Hebridean Way leaving the charming youth hostel as early as possible to begin my three day trek to the next hostel in South Uist. There wasn’t a breath of wind as I passed through the eerily quiet surroundings of the settlements on the eastern side of the island. At the ferry terminal I rejoined the Hebridean Way and passed over the causeway that links Berneray with North Uist, the first of many on the long chain of causeways along the length of islands that stretch all the way to Eriskay. The Hebridean Way continues along the road for another mile until just before Loch an Sticir where the now familiar Hebridean Way sign directed me onto the heather moor below the western slopes of Beinn Bhreac. Just as I’d encountered on Harris, wooden posts directed my steps across the pathless slopes to a heather topped dyke that provided me with a handrail to follow up into Bealach na Beinne, the gap that lies between the hills of Beinn Bhreac and Beinn Mhòr.

I hoped the trail was going to go through the pass as I was already tired, but much to my disappointment it continued to climb up the slopes of Beinn Mhòr and passed to the north of the summit circling around the hill to reach the eastern slopes where the stunning North Uist landscape slowly revealed itself to me. As I came round the hill the view opened out before me taking my breath away as I saw a complex terrain of land and loch where thousands of tiny islands are scattered along the complex shoreline on the eastern side of North Uist creating a landscape that is astonishing in its complexity. In the distance, the twin hills of Lì a Tuath and Lì a Deas sat at the back of the waterlogged landscape of loch and low grass-covered land. A very faint path was now beginning to appear as I dropped down the grassy slopes to reach a bridge and turned to follow the edge of the sea loch around the side of Bàgh Teileam. The ground was relatively dry and wooden boards had been provided where it was not with frequent marker posts providing a clear indication of the route even where the faint path failed.

I enjoyed this section of the walk thanks not only to the dry, clear path, but also due to the warm sunshine that was now gracing the day and providing me with the best weather of my holiday. Eventually I reached a minor road where I turned right to follow the road heading towards the twin peaks of Crògearraidh Mòr and Crògearraidh Beag until I reached the North Uist circular road. After a short distance I turned off at a sign for a car park and picnic site that took me around a brackish loch where I took the opportunity to stop and have my lunch. After eating I set off once again and soon had to follow wooden posts, but this time they were much less reliable and took me onto boggy terrain across the western slopes of Blathaisbhal. There was no hint of a path and no sign of the three standing stones marked on the map, however they are apparently no more than two feet high and are widely separated so I must have walked straight past them without realising. Eventually I came to some excavations that seem to have been made right on top of the Hebridean Way and forced me to go around the tall, metal fences that surrounded the earthworks until I reached the service road for a Scottish Water facility.

On reaching the main road I turned right to head towards Lochmaddy, the ferry terminal for North Uist. The Hebridean Way follows the road as far as Strumore, but does not go into Lochmaddy, but I wanted to see some of the town, so I took a diversion along an unfenced track to Sponish Farm where I found a rusty old suspension footpath over the outflow for Loch Houram where gorgeous views could be seen eastwards over Loch na Madadh in the fabulous weather where not a cloud was in the sky. A track led me into the delightful town of Lochmaddy overlooking the loch itself before I turned back to Strumore where I could resume my trek along the Hebridean Way using old roads that enabled me to keep away the speeding cars on the circular road. During this prolonged section clouds started to gather, but the weather brightened once more when I reached the low hill of Beinn Langais so that once again I had excellent views with the hills of Lì a Tuath, Lì a Deas and Eabhal dominating the views eastwards.

I was previously in this area two years ago while walking along the length of the Western Isles in the opposite direction and on that occasion I had climbed to the top of Beinn Langais before heading north on a route via the western side of North Uist. It was good for me to now take a completely different route through North Uist through territory that I had not walked through two years ago, though by the time I reached Ben Langais the long trudge along the old road had worn me out. On a well-made path I walked past the Langass Woodland and around the hill to eventually reach Langass Lodge where I wished that I could afford to stay, but instead I continued along the trail to reach the river that flows into Bàgh Orasaigh. Instead of staying at an expensive hotel I camped beside the boggy river where midges slowly congregated around me. Despite the tiring end to the day this was a great day with some good paths in some amazing weather that has really shown off the stunning Hebridean landscape of land and loch. Fatigue and aching feet are all worthwhile when you see landscape that is as stunning as that found in North Uist.

Through West Harris to Berneray

Thursday 24th August 2017

I woke at the start of this day to perfect conditions beside Luskentyre beach on the Isle of Harris with bright sunshine and blue skies that promised an excellent day’s walk, but the reality proved to be a lot tougher than anticipated. Two years ago I walked through West Harris following the road almost all the way from Leverburgh, but now I was following the newly opened Hebridean Way in the opposite direction along a course that keeps off the road for most of the day. I didn’t know what this stage of the trail was going to be like, and it didn’t start very well as I couldn’t find it. There was no signpost marking the point where the Hebridean Way heads off into the hills so I had to use the GPS waypoint from the visitouterhebrides.co.uk website that took me through an unmarked gate and uphill towards a wooden post bearing the Hebridean Way logo but no footpath linking them, and this was to be the pattern for the whole of the day. I love to walk on a good, well-made footpath, but I didn’t get that on this walk, and instead I had to make my own way between the wooden posts that stretched across the bleak, rough moorland.

Initially I was climbing very steeply with stunning views behind me across Tràigh Losgaintir, that is the Luskentyre sands, a tidal saltmarsh that includes beaches considered to be some of the best in the country. They were looking fabulous in the sunny weather but I was more concerned with struggling to get up the hillside keeping to the rock outcrops that are interspersed amongst the heather for easier walking until eventually the gradient eased and I followed wooden posts across a rough terrain that was very tough to walk upon even though the gradient was never again as severe as it was at the beginning. Heather and tussocky grass dominated as I dropped down into Gleann Sheileboist, up over the headland, down into Gleann Horgaboist, uphill again and across a broad, complex, undulating landscape slowly making my way south-west. I spent the whole time constantly looking for these wooden posts as there was no sign of a path on the ground, and I didn’t always find them. Sometimes I just had to blindly set off in what I thought was the right direction until eventually I spotted the next post hopefully in the direction that I was going.

This form of walking was very tiring and took many hours to do even though the distance was not great. The good weather slowly deteriorated during the day to cloud over at lunchtime so that the good views that I had enjoyed in the morning were soon a distant memory, and by the time I finally came back onto the road it was raining. At first it had been an interesting challenge to pick the best route between the posts, having a moment of elation on reaching a post before searching for the next one and selecting the best route through the complex terrain that would take me to the post. But, I eventually lost interest in that game after a couple of hours as the strenuous walking dragged on into the afternoon. Later in the walk the Hebridean Way follows a line of old dykes (heather covered earth walls), that must have been created many years ago to channel water away from the farmland.

At this time of the year these dykes are covered in purple-flowering heather that stand out against the predominately grassy landscape, but also makes it impossible to walk on top of the dykes and I had to try and walk below, which was usually boggy and not easy. Eventually the route turned downhill through farmland to reach the road near Scaristavore where I encountered two people walking the Hebridean Way in the opposite direction. They were full of horrors about the trail to Leverburgh and I was not complementary about the path that I had just been on. Signposts direct walkers onto the beach, but the visitouterhebrides.co.uk website advocates keeping to the road. Following the signposts I headed out onto the dunes in worsening weather at double-quick time as I was in no mood to linger. Two years ago the weather had been great and I had been able to spend some time on this fabulous golden beach enjoying the views, but now I was thankful when I reached a sign that took me back onto the road.

After a short spell of road-walking I took a clear path that heads uphill towards the pass between Maodal and Bolabhal Sgarasta, but after a wickedly short distance this good path disappears and I was left to fend for myself with occasional posts once again attempting to guide my way. Occasionally a turf path would appear to provide slightly dryer, but precarious, walking over the pass and it wasn’t long before it started raining heavily so when the turf path disappeared I felt I'd been abandoned to terrible weather with no sign of a post to guide me or any other indication of the route. Through the pouring rain I made my way across the saturated ground into Gleann Uachdrach trying to head in the right direction despite the poor visibility until eventually through the murky weather I glimpsed a bridge over the Abhainn Horsa-cleit and beyond the turf path reappeared to take me through the boggy ground as the rain gradually eased while I passed Loch na Moracha and eventually reached the road. This traverse over the pass was a nightmare in heavy rain on turf paths that are never going to be dry when the weather is this bad. By the time I dragged myself into Leverburgh it was late, and I was weary after many hours of strenuous walking through rough moorland on non-existent paths.

This whole day had been a nightmare, so by the time I had crossed the Sound of Harris on the ferry to Berneray I was beyond exhausted. As I picked the ticks out of my legs from the day spent walking through tall heather I decided that I had to have a rest the next day. The weather was good the following day and I had a relaxing walk around the beautiful island of Berneray, up Beinn Shlèibhe and down the gorgeous west beach whose white sands must rank as the best in the country. My walk through West Harris had been like walking through hell with the lack of a path making it very strenuous and time-consuming, however in ten years’ time I’m sure the route of the Hebridean Way through West Harris will be a lot easier as a path will have been trampled into the ground making the route much clearer, but right now this is a very difficult stage of the trail. I was completely worn out by this stage and appreciated the chance to recover on the delightful island of Berneray, so that after my day’s rest I was thoroughly refreshed and able to resume my trek along the Hebridean Way.