Dùn na Cuaiche and Coille-bhràghad

Sunday 16th April 2017

When I started planning this holiday I wanted to go somewhere new and the lure of scotch whisky soon drew my attention to the Isle of Islay, which is famed for its distinctive distillations. However I was having difficulty coming up with a coherent plan so I ended up spending a lot of time planning a holiday in the Yorkshire Dales instead. I became very keen on the idea of going back to the Yorkshire Dales, but a coherent plan there proved even less achievable so in the end I turned my attention back to Islay and finally came up with a plan that I was happy with. Nevertheless I had spent so much time planning for a holiday in the Yorkshire Dales I was actually a little disappointed to be going to Scotland instead. Despite my intention to go to new places, this holiday actually started and finished in exactly the same way as a holiday that I did in 2007, ten years ago. That is also the only other occasion that I’ve been to Scotland at Easter, and it started by catching a bus from Glasgow to the traditional county town of Argyle: Inveraray. At that time I’d enjoyed some good weather that enabled me to do some walking in the Arrochar Alps, but when I got up at the start of this day for a return visit to the Arrochar Alps I found that it was raining.

A walk up the Corbetts to the west of the A83 road would have to wait for another time and instead I decided to do some walking around Inveraray. Just outside the town is Inveraray Castle, ancestral home of the Duke of Argyll, Chief of the Clan Campbell, which I visited ten years ago. The website for the castle describes two walking routes on the Argyll Estate and after walking past the iconic castle I started following signs for the first of these routes: The Dun na Cuaiche Woodland Walk. As the rain continued to fall I passed over a bridge and took a narrow path through lovely plant-(though no flowers)-filled woodland. After passing across a narrow field the walk progressed through conifer woodland that showed nothing of interest except for a fleeting glimpse of a red squirrel before it darted across the track and up a tree. As I climbed, the misty views east opened out over Glen Aray while some woodland flowers began to appear beside the path including primroses as the path narrowed near the top and snaked up to reach the prominent tower that stands watch over the castle and town of Inveraray.

Daffodils have been planted around the tower and celandines have also taken advantage of the clearing to share the view across the town and down Loch Fyne. Despite the misty views and rain I enjoyed wandering around the top of this grassy mound and gazing down the precipitous tree-clad slopes. There is a higher hill behind Dùn na Cuaiche, named Dùn Còrr-Bhile that has a trig point on it, but since there is no clear path through the trees, although I considered attempting it, I decided against it. Once I was all the way back down, by the way that I had come, I was struck by the tremendous promise in the wood near the bridge as it is clearly filled with bluebells that next month will be putting on a spectacular display that unfortunately I won’t be able to see. On the lane heading away from the castle there were some delightful, delicate pink flowers that are probably cuckooflower, which are so common I have some in my own garden, but still brightened an otherwise dull day.

The second walk described on the Inveraray Castle website follows this lane beside the River Aray and through Carloonan Farm to reach Carloonan Bridge where the river passes through some spectacular rapids. The directions had me turn left after this bridge but muddy paths encouraged me to turn right past Balantyre Lodge and onto the A819 road. A forestry track on the other side of the road was no better than the paths that I had been trying to avoid, but after rejoining the original route, and crossing the Allt Bail’ a’ Ghobhainn burn, I came across signs warning of forestry operations that barred access. If there had been actual forestry operations taking place at that moment I would have turned back, as I did last September, however it was Easter Sunday and there was no danger so I proceeded along the churned up track, past the abandoned forestry vehicles and the tall piles of cut logs that were giving off the unmistakable and pungent smell of fresh timber. The path improved as I passed beyond the felled areas and into areas that were felled some time ago where some recovery has taken place producing lovely displays of primroses as well as more depressing bushes of the invasive rhododendron.

As I made my way along the track the rain finally stopped, which made the walk a little more pleasant even though it was still rather grey and dull while low cloud spoilt the view, though Dùn na Cuaiche could now be clearly seen with Loch Fyne beyond. Eventually I reached the waterfall Steallaire Bàn that was surrounded by leafless trees covered in luxuriously soft, green moss and made for a stunning scene and compensated for the cascades that claim to be a waterfall. Beyond the falls, the path begins to descend and passes through Eas a Chòsain, a ravine that was gorgeously filled with plants from moss on the trees to small flowers on the ground and up the steep sides of the narrow gully. I was in awe of this magical place and even though it was starting to rain again I enjoyed every step as I slowly made my way down this explosion of green. This gully is shrouded by deciduous trees, which marks the difference with the conifer plantation that I had passed through earlier on the trail. Conifer plantations can never have the same feel of a good natural wood, and can never produce the reaction that I got from this gully.

Eventually this magical delight came to an end at the bottom where I turned onto a minor road that took me eventually back into Inveraray. Neither of these walks were great, except for the descent at the end through the gully that ultimately made the walk worthwhile. They hadn’t taken me very long and brought me back into Inveraray by two in the afternoon leaving me to wander around the town for the rest of the day including visiting the nineteenth century Jail in the town, but the day had already been ruined by the rain. Before coming to Scotland, I had been asked how much hiking I was going to be doing, and I had to respond that I wasn’t going to be doing much walking as the main purpose was really just sight-seeing. Even though I did manage to do a bit of walking on this day most of the afternoon was spent being a tourist. If I had gone to the Yorkshire Dales then I would have done a lot more hiking, but unfortunately that is not the main goal of this holiday.

Dimminsdale and Calke Park

Saturday 4th March 2017

Apart from a brief outing at Christmas I consider my walking season to be from March to October as outside of those months the weather is not really good enough for me to have a satisfying walk (since I am not interested in winter sports). Last week I described the last walk that I did last year (not including the week in the Lake District at Christmas) and now I am moving onto the first walk that I did this year. Throughout last year I had been walking around the Ivanhoe Way and I had been intending on starting this year with my last section of the trail from Ashby-de-la Zouch to the Dimminsdale Nature Reserve. There is a stunning display of Snowdrops at Dimminsdale in late winter that I wanted to see and completing the last section of the Ivanhoe Way would have made a good excuse, but in the end I decided that it wasn’t necessary as I’ve already walked that section before during the National Forest Way and I don’t need an excuse. All I needed was some good weather and that came on the first weekend in March.

I first came to Dimminsdale two years ago on the National Forest Way and without realising it I had timed it perfectly to see the snowdrops at their peak. Last year I started the Ivanhoe Way in Dimminsdale at the same time of the year to pay those snowdrops a return visit and now I was back this year just so I could see those snowdrops. The paths through the Dimminsdale Nature Reserve were very muddy underfoot, but that wasn’t my biggest problem. When I tried to take some pictures of the wonderful displays of snowdrops I realised that the batteries in my camera were flat and all the other batteries that I had taken with me were also flat. This was really frustrating as I had come all this way to take photos of snowdrops, and although I would be able to use my phone it doesn’t take as good pictures. Heading around the muddy reserve past the remains of the limekilns, I headed up to the site of the mine manager's garden where all the snowdrops are to be found.

Snowdrops are an introduced flower to Britain so are only found in the wild where someone has planted them and after several hundred years these snowdrops have spread all over that corner of the reserve to produce a gorgeous display. I did another circuit of the reserve while trying to get my camera to work, but to no avail so I made use of my phone before heading off along a path beside Red Brook out of the reserve and onto the road. On the other side there is a National Trust sign directing a route to the right, which I followed through a wood and into Calke Park, a National Trust property. I first came to Calke Abbey two years ago on the same stage of the National Forest Way previously mentioned, and I returned last year to see their bluebells. I was keen to explore this fascinating area further, so after a brief visit to the centre buildings I started off along the red way-marked trail past the abbey and towards St Giles’ Church.

Turning off the track I walked past a derelict deer shelter, where I had my lunch, and through the damp, grassy parkland. The sun was shining brightly, which uplifted my soul and made me happy to be out walking in the countryside again with the promise of spring just around the corner. The Red Walk took me through a wetland area to join up with the National Forest Way, which I followed to leave the Red Walk which was heading back towards Calke Abbey. At a tunnel I turned right off the National Forest Way into the Ticknall Limeyards, which was an area I was keen to explore. It is amazing that a place that was heavily industrialised a couple of hundred years ago is now completely taken over by nature to a tremendous effect. The woodland that now covers the limeyards will probably look even more spectacular in a couple of months when there are leaves on the trees and flowers on the ground. The old tramway that I was walking on and the heavily undulating ground were the only signs that there had been any previous industrial activity.

Following the path through the limeyards, branching off several times to explore, I walked past the old limekilns and eventually left the woods crossing several fields to re-enter Calke Park on the route of the National Forest Way on its way through the park. Rather than following the trail towards Calke Abbey, I turned left to head through Serpentine Wood where last year I had seen a fabulous display of bluebells. There were no signs of bluebells now, so I kept on going through the wood and out at the far end to cross the drive and rejoin the National Forest Way on its route out of Calke Park. Before reaching the tunnel I once again left the trail and this time turned left onto the course of the old tramway as it leaves the Ticknall Limeyards. This tramway has only recently been restored so I had an easy walk along the course of this little railway that for several miles took me around the edge of Calke Park and back to Dimminsdale. This walk was a good start to my walking season after my winter exile where I was released back into the countryside so I could once more enjoy the sunshine and open spaces. On this walk I really just went for a bit of a wander around with no real route in mind except to visit the snowdrops in Dimminsdale, and to explore the limeyards including the tramway. However, the real goal of this walk was to be back out in the countryside and enjoy the sunshine and the dawn of spring.

Kinder Scout

Saturday 8th October 2016

I wanted to get in a last walk in the Peak District last year before the onset of winter, so with a reasonably good weather forecast I made plans to head up Kinder Scout, which is the highest point in the National Park. This is a hill that I have been up many times over the years, but I felt I hadn’t been up Kinder Scout in recent years with my most recent visit, as far as I could recall, while walking the first part of the Pennine Way five years earlier. Initially I had planned to take the train to Edale, but after missing the train I ended up driving, not to Edale, but to the other side of the hill parking in a layby in the Woodlands Valley not far from the Snake Pass Inn, where I have parked several times over the years. Descending through trees to the River Ashop, I crossed the bridge and rounded the headland to start climbing beside the Fair Brook under patchy cloud. I remember descending this valley many years ago in dwindling light, but I couldn’t remember ever ascending this way so I was looking forward to the prospect.

There were good views up the valley with a clear path underfoot as the stream slowly delves into moorland north of the Kinder plateau. As I approached the astonishing edge of the plateau, the terrain roughened and steepened pleasingly with rock now abounding which made for a fun, easy scramble up the final section onto the perimeter path that encircles the plateau. Most of the Kinder plateau is a boggy moor that is not particularly fun to walk, however the edge of the plateau is littered with great lumps of weathered rock that look spectacular and add to the pleasing walk around the perimeter. Under patchy sunlight and a light breeze I headed along the edge with far reaching views north across the moors of the Dark Peak along a path that, although it deteriorated into bogs occasionally, was nevertheless clear. The weathered gritstone outcrops in many shapes and sizes provided an interesting sight as I made my way along the northern edge of the Kinder plateau.

Eventually the Pennine Way came into view and once I was on that path, turning to the south, the number of people increased dramatically with the path becoming almost crowded, however the quality of the path underfoot also improved due to the popularity. By now the skies, that had been mostly clear, were now becoming leaden and overcast thereby ruining the views for the rest of the day while a cold wind began to blow. The clear path took me to the Kinder Downfall, where there is a dramatic wedge in the side of the plateau driven by the River Kinder as it falls from the moorland top into the lower western moor. There I left the crowds behind and followed the river into the heart of the plateau on the original route of the Pennine Way, which now takes a wide course south of Kinder Scout before climbing Jacob’s Ladder and follows the western edge of the Kinder plateau to reach the Kinder Downfall. After a while I came across two rock buttresses either side of the river that are known to as the Kinder Gates. Despite the grey weather I was happy to be here looking at these highlights of the Kinder plateau, so I stopped and had my lunch.

It hadn’t been my intention to cross the plateau, but after eating I decided that I wanted to continue following, or see if I could follow, the original route of the Pennine Way across the moor. There were marks of footprints going in all directions and it was difficult to know which ones were going in the right direction. I made the mistake of following the river upstream for too long and had to turn back to head east across the boggy, trackless moor. It was at this point that I realised I should have worn my gaiters as my trousers were soon filthy from the moorland peat, but I suppose you can’t get it right every time! I could see other people wandering around the moor and they seemed as aimless as I was, looking at maps and GPS devices to try and determine the correct direction to be going. The featureless terrain was a difficult place to navigate and I rather enjoyed the challenge until eventually I came across some posts with pink ribbon at the top and following these revealed an emerging path that brought me to the Crowden Brook and the southern edge of the plateau.

On reaching the good, clear, very popular perimeter path I turned left in the worsening weather along the southern edge of Kinder Scout past the stunning Grindsbrook Clough where the Pennine Way originally ascended onto the plateau. The perimeter path continues along the northern edge of the valley with an abundance of rock everywhere that is always great to feel under my feet. At the top of Golden Clough I came off the perimeter path and headed back across the moor towards a trig point that could clearly be seen on the horizon. This was not easy as there was no path and many water-logged groughs in the peat were always just a little too wide to jump across, which made it more difficult to cross the moor than it had been earlier. It was navigation that had been the problem then, but now it was the uncrossable water-logged channels in the peak that blocked my way to the destination that I could clearly see. Eventually, with considerable relief and with even muddier trousers, I reached the trig point near the eastern end of Kinder Scout.

The perimeter path is an easy walk north from the trig point and from there I headed west around the spectacular Blackden Clough that had me wanting to climb by that route next time I come to Kinder Scout. Finally I left the perimeter path coming off the plateau following a line of grouse butts back into the Woodlands Valley where I was soon able to return to my car. If the weather had not deteriorated this would have been a fabulous walk, but in the afternoon there had been a cold wind with overcast skies that lessened my enjoyment of the day. Kinder Scout is quite a mercurial hill with many difficult bogs that made this walk quite a challenge even though some parts of the hill is deservedly very popular, in particular the route of the Pennine Way along the western edge. I have always enjoyed the challenge that Kinder Scout presents especially when you strike away from the more popular areas.