Snowdon from Crib Goch

This picture was from a sensational walk that I did in 2006 around the Snowdon horseshoe (walk is described here). The weather was really warm for the time of year and I had a great time on the challenging round. I thought this picture was so good with the pointed peak of Snowdon in the background that I used it at the top of this blog for many years and now I am showing it again to add cheer at this difficult time.

Ullswater from Steel End, Martindale

Like most people I have been stuck in my house for the past week, and last weekend I found myself looking through my old photos remembering times when I was able to walk free and unfettered over the beautiful hills of Britain and Ireland. Most of the pictures are not very good, either because of the frequently poor weather in Britain or my bad photography skills. However, occasionally a good picture escaped through the lens and these have helped to revive my spirits and look forward to better days and I thought it would be a good idea to share some of these pictures with you, so I am starting with this one taken on a walk around Martindale in 2006 (the walk is described here). I was standing on Steel End at the northern tip of the ridge that rises to Steel Knotts and looking out over Ullswater.

Snowdon

Saturday 29th June 2019

I have walked up many mountains in Britain and Ireland, but most people do not see the attraction of climbing up mountains, but when they do they are attracted to only a small number of mountains. While there are hundreds of mountains and hills that could be climbed they only see these honeypot places and think only these justify them going out of their way, unlike all the others. Long ago I came up with a number of characteristics that typify a mountain that attracts crowds. Firstly it needs to be prominent, either by being notably high or relatively high compared with the locality so it stands out in the landscape. Another requirement is that it is easy to get to with good parking nearby, and finally, very importantly, a good, relatively easy footpath all the way up to the summit, preferably several. Whenever there is good weather during a Bank Holiday weekend then all such mountains will be packed with people as I saw on Pen y Fan over the August Bank Holiday weekend last year. However nothing attracts the crowds like the highest mountains in the various nations of the U.K., and where I live one mountain holds an almost mystical attraction for non-hillwalkers. Snowdon satisfies all of my requirements of a popular mountain more than any other, and I’d previously seen its power when it drew many of the men from my church in 2011.

Last year it had a similar effect on some of the people that I work with who eagerly wanted to go up Snowdon despite never having climbed a mountain before. I was happy to help them so we met up at five o’clock in the morning and even though many had pulled out at the last minute there were still three of us who drove all the way to the village of Llanberis at the foot of Snowdon in north Wales. Back home it was very hot and humid, but it was a bit cooler around Snowdon with heavily overcast skies, though still very warm. Llanberis was packed with people though the car park for the Padarn Country Park was surprisingly empty, and this is always the one that I would use when I am in the area as it is a lot cheaper and safer than others. A short walk beside the road took us to the packed terminus for the Snowdon Mountain Railway and from there we headed to the start of the Llanberis footpath that is the easiest and the most popular route to the summit of Snowdon. Despite the first section of the path being on a road it was already very steep which severely tested us early on, though I was enthralled by the foxgloves that littered the bracken-covered slopes beside the road.

Eventually we left the road and headed onto the stony path that follows the railway up the ridge slowly climbing towards the mist-covered summit. The path was crowded with hundreds of people heading up Snowdon at the same time as us with many of them wearing the same tops that denoted an event that they were taking part in and presumably involves climbing Snowdon. The halfway house was particularly packed with many people taking the opportunity to stop and have something to eat, even though most of them didn’t go inside the building. The path steepens after the halfway house as it approaches a bridge under the railway line, and after passing through we were greeted by hazy views across the valley of Nant Peris towards the obscured, neighbouring mountains of the Glyderau. With the terrain steepening again the path broadens wider than on any other mountain path I have seen as the non-walkers in my group slowed to a crawl and eventually stopped for take a long rest, and to take in the view. Whenever I stop to catch my breath I always kid myself that I’m just looking at the view, but having a rest is a perfectly justifiable thing to do while climbing a mountain. It’s important to take your time and enjoy the views on the way up as it’s not a race.

Resuming the climb the gradient eased, but the crowds became even more manic as the other paths up Snowdon joined from the right (the Snowdon Ranger Path) and from the left (the Pyg Track and the Miner’s Path). The final crawl took us up to the summit where the train deposited yet more people to create the most crowded summit in Britain while also one of the smallest. There were stunning views whenever the clouds and crowds allowed, but the actual summit was so packed with people there were long queues just to get up to the top of the mountain. We found a spot below the summit looking south towards Cwm Llan and the mountain ridge of Y Lliwedd as we had our lunches. Later the summit had slightly cleared of people, while the clouds obscured the view, so we made our way up to the top though we still had to take our turn. I used to visit Snowdon twice a year but ultimately gave up simply because it had got too crowded and on this occasion it was probably more crowded than I have ever seen it. It is ridiculous how many people there were at the summit especially when you look at how many people were probably on the nearby Glyderau or the Carneddau that are not much smaller than Snowdon.

As we made our way down we were astonished at the people walking upon the railway line despite the danger. I can understand that it may seem to be the only way to get away from the crowds, but the easiest way to do that is to climb a different mountain. The last descent down the steep road was a killer on our knees as we finally made our way into Llanberis where the air had become very stifling under the humid, overcast skies. Snowdon at the weekend in the summer is not the place to escape the crowds as I found on this walk where many walkers seemed to be climbing the mountain not for fun, but simply just for charity. This is not something I can understand as I walk up mountains for enjoyment, and not for a challenge and definitely not for charity. It was ridiculous to see the vast numbers of people doing charity walks, which may be good for the charity but not so good for Snowdon. I used to love climbing Snowdon but now there are too many people on the mountain so I will generally stay away from it, which is tragic as Snowdon is a great mountain, ruined.

The Shire Country Park

Saturday 15th June 2019

My favourite novel is The Lord of the Rings, a book that I first read long before they were made into three feature films. Many places claim to have inspired the locations in the book, in Britain and across the world, and in 2012 I was told by the Warden of the Slaidburn Youth Hostel, in the Forest of Bowland, that the village of Slaidburn was the Shire. The visitlancashire.com website details a walk that I followed while in the area and takes you supposedly in the footsteps of J. R. R. Tolkien. However, if any place could lay claim to have inspired the Shire then surely it is the area where Tolkien lived as a child in the tiny hamlet of Sarehole where the River Cole passed through idyllic meadows and nearby an old mill still ground corn as it had done for centuries. Although he only lived there for a few years they were so influential that this mill is referred to in the foreword to The Lord of the Rings. Unfortunately, one hundred and twenty years later the city of Birmingham has consumed the entire area, but Sarehole Mill has survived as a museum and after the movies came out the tree-lined Cole Valley was renamed, The Shire Country Park. The city of Birmingham has produced a leaflet for a Birmingham Tolkien Trail so armed with this I caught a train to Birmingham New Street station only to find poor weather when I got there.

Setting off from the station I passed the site of King Edward’s School, where Tolkien was educated, although the New Street building was demolished in 1936. Soon after leaving the station I very quickly got lost and had to retrace my steps until eventually I found the right way passing the site of the new Curzon Street station that will serve the new high speed line from London. Finally I reached the Grand Union Canal where I dropped onto the tow path and immediately found much more pleasant surroundings with oxeye daisy growing in abundance beside the water. Red campion and poppies were also to be found, which contrasted sharply with the industrial scenes on the other side of the canal. After a couple of miles walking beside the canal I came off to pass through the Ackers Adventure centre and reach the River Cole where a path roughly follows the river south until eventually I entered The Shire Country Park. Slowly I made my way along the path through idyllic tree-lined scenery beside a delightful stream until I reached Sarehole Mill where J. R. R. Tolkien had many happy memories. Initially I was only going to have a look around outside and not go inside, but eventually I did pay the entrance fee and had a good look around one of the few surviving mills in the country that also has a short exhibition on Tolkien.

Although the skies were grey and overcast the sight of the mill standing proud beside the pond that drove the wheel was mesmerising. I could have stayed there all day, but eventually I tore myself away onto the noisy street and walked around the tree lined pond onto Wake Green Road where the house that Tolkien lived in is still standing, although a private residence. Turning around I looked at the trees that now surround the pond and tried to imagine what the area would have looked like when this whole area was still in the countryside, and it rather made me sad at what has happened in the intervening years. Not far away is Moseley Bog, an area of dense trees that recalls Tolkien’s description of the ‘Old Forest’ on the outskirts of the Shire. Despite a short spell of light rain I was enamoured of the area and spent ages wandering around this fabulous wood that has a maze of paths going everywhere which made the small area seem much larger than it actually is. At the far end of the nature reserve I left the Shire behind and passed along many residential streets eventually reaching Highbury Park, which was a welcome change from the houses, but too manicured compared with the wilderness of the country park.

While in Highbury Park it started raining again and soon after reaching the River Rea the rain became heavy so I just resigned myself to abandoning the Tolkien Trail, which would have taken me into Edgbaston, where Tolkien moved after Sarehole. Instead I headed back towards the city centre following the river north passing through Cannon Hill Park while the heavens poured down. A cycle path provided me with directions that took me all the way into the city centre while the rain stopped and the sun came out. I am not a city person and much prefer wild scenery, which it seems to me was also how Tolkien felt. He looked back on his time at Sarehole as the happiest in his life and when he returned several decades later he was horrified at the growing urbanisation, which inspired a part of The Lord of the Rings. I didn’t enjoy the city part of this walk, but I did like the wild flowers beside the canal and I especially enjoyed visiting Sarehole Mill and Moseley Bog where a little bit of old earth is preserved in the modern day. Curiously this walk has lingered long in my memory despite the poor weather and the prolonged sections of city scenery. I don’t think it will be long before I feel the pull to return to Birmingham and explore more of Tolkien’s childhood home that inspired part of my favourite book.

Bluebells in the Chilterns

Monday 6th May 2019

During the May Day weekend in 2017 I made my first visit to the Chiltern Hills, which I loved so much I came back the week after and the following Easter I came back for a whole week to finish the Ridgeway trail. I still have a lot of affection for the Chiltern Hills so on the May Day Bank Holiday Monday last year I eagerly returned to Wendover, which had been the scene of my first visit to the area. However, I didn’t have a plan for the walk so initially I just copied the route I had taken two years previously walking along the Ridgeway on the Heron Path beside a crystal clear stream gently climbing out of Wendover and up to the Chiltern escarpment along the wide track of Hogtrough Lane. On entering the Wendover Woods the gradient steepened, though with no sign of bluebells at this point, but I knew from my previous visit that I just had to be patient and as I neared the top of Cock’s Hill the bluebells began to appear. The hot weather over the Easter weekend appeared to have stressed the bluebells so that even at this early date many of them had already started to go to seed. It was still great to see so many examples of this fabulous flower that produces gorgeous displays and carpets many of our ancient woods in a sea of blue flowers that never fails to enliven the spirit.

After crossing a road I cut a corner rather than sticking to the Ridgeway and was rewarded by another gorgeous display of bluebells that were significantly more dense than those I had seen earlier. However, this treat was short-lived as the Ridgeway then crosses two roads with a couple of cow-filled fields in between, but then it took me into a tremendous display of bluebells in Pavis Wood. There were bluebells everywhere I looked with extensive coverings that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see and was more than enough to satisfy my desire for another year. When I had started the walk there were blue skies overhead, which was a surprise as it was forecast to be cold and overcast, but the sunshine was welcome until before too long the promised, poor weather appeared so by the time I reached the bluebells there were dull skies overhead, which was a shame as the bluebells would have looked so much better through dappled sunlight. It was still lovely to walk through the stunning displays of bluebells in Pavis Wood and with nowhere planned to go I lingered in the area soaking up the sights and smells while slowly making my way along the path.

When the Ridgeway reached a road I parted company with it and turned north to stay in the woodland, but as I began to descend the escarpment the bluebells disappeared. I was not too bothered by this and explored Grove Wood heading into Stubbing’s Wood taking any path that looked interesting just so I could see where it went. When I reached the exit of the wood I didn’t want to leave so I turned back to prolong the delights even longer and eventually reached the northern tip of the wood where I had to turn around and circled back through the wood finally leaving to walk along some lovely byways. These wooded lanes are part of what makes the Chilterns so delightful and are great for walking even if they are not in a wood, and this time of the year they were full of wild flowers. These lanes brought me to the foot of Aston Hill where a deeply grooved path led me steeply uphill until eventually I reached the top of the hill and entered the complex visitor attraction of Wendover Woods. The main car park was very crowded, which did not make me very comfortable, so once I had decided on the right direction to go I quickly headed away from the bank holiday crowds.

Following a path marked “footpath only – no cycles” I headed off through woods that seemed full of people with the shouts of children spoiling the beautiful scenery. After a while of blindly following this path I wasn’t sure where I was or where this path was leading me, though at a guess, looking at the map, I assume I was on the Firecrest Trail, or close to it, until at some point I came off the trail to continue heading south and eventually I found myself at the Hale on the Icknield Way. Following the road and trail back towards Wendover I passed a lot of cow parsley scattered beside the road that added to the delight as the walk finally came to an end and eventually I was back where I had started. This was a great bank holiday walk through the delightful woods of the Chilterns where I saw many lovely wild flowers, and although there had been a lot of undulation on the walk, which had been somewhat exhausting, it was very satisfying. I had seen a lot of bluebells two days previously while walking through the Charnwood Forest in better weather, but as good as they are, there is nowhere in Leicestershire that has as extensive a display of bluebells as can be seen in the Chiltern Hills. I know I will be returning again this year.

St Cuthbert’s Way to Wooler

Saturday 27th April 2019

Ten years after starting the Pennine Way, last Easter I finally managed to complete the full course of this most definitive long distance trail in Britain and I was in the small village of Kirk Yetholm, just a mile or two from the border between England and Scotland. On the last day of my holiday I now turned my attention to heading home, but there is no bus service from Kirk Yetholm directly to a railway station so I would have needed to change buses in Kelso, however an alternative that would enable me to get a walk in first was to head towards a place that does have a bus service to the nearest railway station. Fortunately there is a long distance trail called St. Cuthbert’s Way that follows a sixty-two mile route between Montrose Abbey, where St Cuthbert began his religious life, and Lindisfarne on Holy Island, where he was initially buried. It passes through Kirk Yetholm and on its third day crosses the border to reach the small town of Wooler in Northumberland where there is a bus service to Berwick-upon-Tweed. Therefore the morning after I had come down off the Cheviot Hills on the Pennine Way I retraced my steps back along the trail climbing all the way up to the border. By the time I reached the English border I was exhausted, but still amused to see the sign that proclaims “Welcome to England” with the sign in the opposite direction proclaiming “Welcome to Scotland”.

Waving goodbye to Scotland I strode into England slowly descending into a shallow valley under grey skies that, like the forecast, promised rain, which had prompted me to put on my waterproofs, but what rain ultimately came was light and didn’t last very long. On reaching the Elsdon Burn a farmer’s road enabled me to maintain a fast pace while the promised rain fell, but I was still able to appreciate the beauty of this quiet valley where gorse bushes thick with yellow flowers decorated the surroundings. Soon I turned into the spectacular College Valley that is well-known for its wild beauty and tranquillity, so I was disappointed that I would not be spending more time in the valley exploring its delights. I crossed the College Burn near Hethpool Mill where the gorse beside the river produced a lovely scene, but I had to turn my back on that beauty and continue east passing a stream in a shallow wooded gorge that had me in rapturous delight while young bluebells decorated the far bank. The terrain now deteriorated as the College Burn swung north and I climbed over the low grassy hillside passing between West Hill and Easter Tor while vast heather moorland covered the slopes to my right.

When I glanced at my map I realised St Cuthbert’s Way was about to head steeply uphill into the moorland so with grim foreboding I turned right and toiled up onto the heather moor. This was a very depressing place as it is clearly managed for grouse shooting which produces a monoculture environment of heather where cowardly men with big guns hide behind a grouse butt from small birds. I was in no mood to linger so I hurried across the moor without taking any pictures and eventually reached the far side descending into the valley beside Humbleton Burn not far from the town of Wooler, however St Cuthbert’s Way had other plans. Rather than turning left towards Wooler I turned right to go up to the top of the wooded Kenterdale Hill before finally heading down into the small market town. This was a varied little walk with a moorland crossing that was a little too reminiscent of the Pennines, but the earlier valley walks were delightful and the final descent into Wooler was a pleasant end to the walk. After a week’s walking along the Pennine Way I was rather tired so I was glad that the walking was now coming to an end as I strolled into Wooler to catch a bus that would begin my journey home.