Here is the slideshow of my trip to Kinlochewe and Torridon.
The weather was overcast a lot of the time so some of the photos are not so good. I am having some doubts about this Panasonic TZ60 but to get anything better would probably cost at least twice as much, and I haven't had it very long, and as I use my camera for backpacking I don't really want to go for anything physically larger.
Click on the Dropbox link, then click on the first thumbnail photo to get the slideshow, then click on "Full Screen" at the bottom to get the proper slideshow with black background. It seems each photo needs a couple of seconds to fully load.
CLICK FOR SLIDESHO
Sunday, 28 August 2016
Friday, 26 August 2016
Torridon 8 And 9
Thursday and Friday, 25th/26rh August
Yesterday it would have been foolish to walk unnecessarily with the bash snd cut on my shin from Wednesday's trip so I rested up and caught up with my reading. A walk across the road to the shop and a chat with the lady there informed me of a medical centre at Torridon so that was target number one for today.
I was concerned about the cut getting infected so I was off down the road early arriving about 8:30 but they didn't open until 9:00 but I saw the receptionist and she gave me an appointment for 11:45. I sat and read my book for a while then drove off down to the café in Torrridon village. I met a guy called Tony from Lymington where he owns a static caravan site; he was touring round Scotland and walking using his newly acquired motor home and we chatted for ages until I set off back to see the doctor. I got talking to Tony because when he walked into the café he was carrying the SMC Guide to the Munros, a good ice-breaker. The lady doctor was very welcoming and helpful supplying me with some proper dressings and good advice and reassurance, so thumbs up for the NHS. I spent the rest of the day on a pleasant drive to Poolewe with a nostalgic visit to Inverewe Gardens. I last visited with my late wife Ann around 1971 shortly after being married and before the children came along. The story of Osgood Mackenzie of Gairloch (what a wonderful name) and his creation of this magnificent garden is one of great endeavour and vision including the initial planting of Scots pines and other species over an area of a hundred acres to provide a basic windbreak, and waiting for years for them to mature enabling the planting of a huge collection of plants, shrubs and trees from around the world. Osgood dates from 1842 to 1922 - after mixed history the gardens are now run by National Trust for Scotland
I've just got back to the caravan and intend to have a meal at the Kinlochewe Hotel for my last night, then off back home tomorrow, hopefully watching Bank Holiday traffic going in the opposite direction.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Yesterday it would have been foolish to walk unnecessarily with the bash snd cut on my shin from Wednesday's trip so I rested up and caught up with my reading. A walk across the road to the shop and a chat with the lady there informed me of a medical centre at Torridon so that was target number one for today.
I was concerned about the cut getting infected so I was off down the road early arriving about 8:30 but they didn't open until 9:00 but I saw the receptionist and she gave me an appointment for 11:45. I sat and read my book for a while then drove off down to the café in Torrridon village. I met a guy called Tony from Lymington where he owns a static caravan site; he was touring round Scotland and walking using his newly acquired motor home and we chatted for ages until I set off back to see the doctor. I got talking to Tony because when he walked into the café he was carrying the SMC Guide to the Munros, a good ice-breaker. The lady doctor was very welcoming and helpful supplying me with some proper dressings and good advice and reassurance, so thumbs up for the NHS. I spent the rest of the day on a pleasant drive to Poolewe with a nostalgic visit to Inverewe Gardens. I last visited with my late wife Ann around 1971 shortly after being married and before the children came along. The story of Osgood Mackenzie of Gairloch (what a wonderful name) and his creation of this magnificent garden is one of great endeavour and vision including the initial planting of Scots pines and other species over an area of a hundred acres to provide a basic windbreak, and waiting for years for them to mature enabling the planting of a huge collection of plants, shrubs and trees from around the world. Osgood dates from 1842 to 1922 - after mixed history the gardens are now run by National Trust for Scotland
I've just got back to the caravan and intend to have a meal at the Kinlochewe Hotel for my last night, then off back home tomorrow, hopefully watching Bank Holiday traffic going in the opposite direction.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, 24 August 2016
Torridon 6
Wednesday 24th August
Ruadh-stac Beag NG 972 613 - about 9 miles - 9hrs!
I could see from the Scottish Mountaineering Club (SMC) Corbetts guide that this could be a tough one. If the SMC even hint at any difficulty beware! I have met severe ridges and paths on Munros that don't get a mention, but in the Lake District would have reputations on a par with Striding Edge and the like. So I was off at 8.20 from the Pony Track at NH 022 628. It was a long hot walk, fortunately with some breeze to within a few hundred metres of its finish. I branched off keeping to the higher but pathless rough ground until eventually reaching some way up the river on the south-east of my hill. There was then a path which was narrow which often climbed quite high above the tumbling river with some quite exposed moments. The route then swings round to ascend by the south ridge. This is very steep composed entirely of boulders ranging from tennis ball to refrigerator and bigger sizes providing a really dicey and strenuous 200m ascent. On reaching the rim the summit is still half a kilometre away across an undulating boulder field, again hard going.
I lunched on the summit and views were superb but I was apprehensive about descending that steep jumble of boulders. I met a guy from Derby heading for the summit as I walked back across the boulder field.
I found the only way I could descend with any confidence was by reverse climbing, i.e. facing the rock and using boulders as hand and footholds. There was a sort of intermittent scree path but for me it seemed too steep for safety. At one point I managed to bash my shin on a rock which with my history is the last thing I can afford to do. The Derby guy then caught me up and he seemed to be able to descend fairly quickly on the loose scree stuff. Obviously he was younger than me and I now accept that I can no longer handle this kind of terrain competently. It took me a long long time to make that descent.
Rather than follow the tricky path just above the river I crossed the river and followed the higher ground all the way back to the Pony Track - the best part of three kilometres of concentrated boulder field with a number of ups and downs crossing ravines and streams. Halfway across this lunar landscape I managed to break one of my walking poles ( I do have a spare in the car).
Even then it took me another two hours to get back to the car. This has been one of the toughest mountain days I can remember - I know there have been many others, but the memory dims. From a stamina aspect I felt fine and fit, but on a route with such technical attributes I am not travelling quickly enough, or safely enough and I reckon in future I will avoid that kind of hill combined with that kind of distance. Any readers who are not familiar with mountain walking may think that nine miles is reasonably modest, but over that kind of terrain it becomes more serious.
I am writing this up in the caravan after downing a beef curry and tomorrow I may go on a nostalgic visit to the gardens at Poolewe - last time was with my late wife Ann not long after we were married and before our children arrived.
---------------
TV here is provided by a booster aerial lead and is restricted to BBC1, BBC2 intermittently, ITV, and Sky News. Unfortunately for me many of the BBC1 programmes are in Gaelic, so I'm getting a bit of reading done; currently I've nearly finished The Places in Between, by Rory Stewart whose epic walk across Afghanistan in 2002 makes me feel like a real wimp, and shows us all how to write with continuous interest about such experiences, but more of that later when I have finished reading it.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Ruadh-stac Beag NG 972 613 - about 9 miles - 9hrs!
I could see from the Scottish Mountaineering Club (SMC) Corbetts guide that this could be a tough one. If the SMC even hint at any difficulty beware! I have met severe ridges and paths on Munros that don't get a mention, but in the Lake District would have reputations on a par with Striding Edge and the like. So I was off at 8.20 from the Pony Track at NH 022 628. It was a long hot walk, fortunately with some breeze to within a few hundred metres of its finish. I branched off keeping to the higher but pathless rough ground until eventually reaching some way up the river on the south-east of my hill. There was then a path which was narrow which often climbed quite high above the tumbling river with some quite exposed moments. The route then swings round to ascend by the south ridge. This is very steep composed entirely of boulders ranging from tennis ball to refrigerator and bigger sizes providing a really dicey and strenuous 200m ascent. On reaching the rim the summit is still half a kilometre away across an undulating boulder field, again hard going.
I lunched on the summit and views were superb but I was apprehensive about descending that steep jumble of boulders. I met a guy from Derby heading for the summit as I walked back across the boulder field.
I found the only way I could descend with any confidence was by reverse climbing, i.e. facing the rock and using boulders as hand and footholds. There was a sort of intermittent scree path but for me it seemed too steep for safety. At one point I managed to bash my shin on a rock which with my history is the last thing I can afford to do. The Derby guy then caught me up and he seemed to be able to descend fairly quickly on the loose scree stuff. Obviously he was younger than me and I now accept that I can no longer handle this kind of terrain competently. It took me a long long time to make that descent.
Rather than follow the tricky path just above the river I crossed the river and followed the higher ground all the way back to the Pony Track - the best part of three kilometres of concentrated boulder field with a number of ups and downs crossing ravines and streams. Halfway across this lunar landscape I managed to break one of my walking poles ( I do have a spare in the car).
Even then it took me another two hours to get back to the car. This has been one of the toughest mountain days I can remember - I know there have been many others, but the memory dims. From a stamina aspect I felt fine and fit, but on a route with such technical attributes I am not travelling quickly enough, or safely enough and I reckon in future I will avoid that kind of hill combined with that kind of distance. Any readers who are not familiar with mountain walking may think that nine miles is reasonably modest, but over that kind of terrain it becomes more serious.
I am writing this up in the caravan after downing a beef curry and tomorrow I may go on a nostalgic visit to the gardens at Poolewe - last time was with my late wife Ann not long after we were married and before our children arrived.
---------------
TV here is provided by a booster aerial lead and is restricted to BBC1, BBC2 intermittently, ITV, and Sky News. Unfortunately for me many of the BBC1 programmes are in Gaelic, so I'm getting a bit of reading done; currently I've nearly finished The Places in Between, by Rory Stewart whose epic walk across Afghanistan in 2002 makes me feel like a real wimp, and shows us all how to write with continuous interest about such experiences, but more of that later when I have finished reading it.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, 23 August 2016
Torridon 5
Tuesday 23rd - August
Meall Lochan Chleirich NG 872 716 - 403m. - 4 hours there and back.
For Gimmer - I think this one is in Wester Ross.
A slightly unpleasant start this morning. One look through the caravan window revealed a density of midges. All preparations were made so that I could exit quickly with all my gear in one go and jump into the car. That included finally donning my midge shirt. On the spur of the moment I decided to blow my nose - my handkerchief was accessible from trouser's pocket, but my nose, unrealised by me, wasn't, and I blew into midge shirt rather than handkerchief which of course was outside the shirt, ugh!
A twelve mile drive north got me to the track at NG 856 721 which I followed for a bit less than a kilometre then set off across rough ground north-east, then up steep slopes where I picked up a meagre path. That eventually lead very steeply right to the base of the summit crags and a twenty foot rock pitch of perhaps "moderate" grade, but hairy enough for me. That was followed by a steep alternately grassy and rocky open gully and over more bare rock and grass to the summit - a real mountaineering feel to this little Marilyn; I certainly had no intention of returning the same way.
There were splendid views of Loch Maree with her islands and then out to the sea. I spent half an hour there. Looking the the map there were crags barring the route north-west direct back to my start so I headed for the road just over a kilometre to the east of my start. That was ok but there was the inevitable deer fence about two hundred metres before the road. I scaled that - it wasn't pretty. The two hundred metres to the road was over felled forest terrain, by far the worst stuff you can ever encounter; it took me about half an hour to get across.
I am now the only person in the Loch Maree Hotel having a pot of tea. It is surprisingly quiet up here in north-west Scotland, the Caravan Club site is only about half full.
I'm off back to the caravan now for a shower and to hunker down from the midges.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Meall Lochan Chleirich NG 872 716 - 403m. - 4 hours there and back.
For Gimmer - I think this one is in Wester Ross.
A slightly unpleasant start this morning. One look through the caravan window revealed a density of midges. All preparations were made so that I could exit quickly with all my gear in one go and jump into the car. That included finally donning my midge shirt. On the spur of the moment I decided to blow my nose - my handkerchief was accessible from trouser's pocket, but my nose, unrealised by me, wasn't, and I blew into midge shirt rather than handkerchief which of course was outside the shirt, ugh!
A twelve mile drive north got me to the track at NG 856 721 which I followed for a bit less than a kilometre then set off across rough ground north-east, then up steep slopes where I picked up a meagre path. That eventually lead very steeply right to the base of the summit crags and a twenty foot rock pitch of perhaps "moderate" grade, but hairy enough for me. That was followed by a steep alternately grassy and rocky open gully and over more bare rock and grass to the summit - a real mountaineering feel to this little Marilyn; I certainly had no intention of returning the same way.
There were splendid views of Loch Maree with her islands and then out to the sea. I spent half an hour there. Looking the the map there were crags barring the route north-west direct back to my start so I headed for the road just over a kilometre to the east of my start. That was ok but there was the inevitable deer fence about two hundred metres before the road. I scaled that - it wasn't pretty. The two hundred metres to the road was over felled forest terrain, by far the worst stuff you can ever encounter; it took me about half an hour to get across.
I am now the only person in the Loch Maree Hotel having a pot of tea. It is surprisingly quiet up here in north-west Scotland, the Caravan Club site is only about half full.
I'm off back to the caravan now for a shower and to hunker down from the midges.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Monday, 22 August 2016
Torridon 4
Monday 22nd August
Raining - walked to toilet block in shorts - back in the caravan my legs felt as though they are being pricked all over by a million needles, but head.and face ok - the little blighters must be lurking in dense battalions at ground level.
Yesterday pm and all evening my strong 3/4 bar EE signal disappeared - "no service". This morning it is inexplicably back and I even found I could open my blog and reply to comments with only three bars and no 3G! Here's hoping I can publish this comment, otherwise it will be a walk, through the "insectation" to the Kinlochewe Hotel for morning coffee. It is only about four hundred yards... I could drive?
I mentioned my love hate relationship with tech in a comment reply. My hopeless determination to press on with this relationship is impaired by a mind more inclined to the arts than science, hence my desire to overcome the problems of tech in order to strive for a better standard in my writing.
Examples of my woeful grasp of science are many, and often at a basic level - here this one sums it up.
Recently my camera ingested dirt on the sensor. Talking to Gimmer, my friend from schooldays who has a chemistry degree from Oxford I suggested that the dirt had been ingested as the telephoto lens retracted. Gimmer pointed out that it would be the other way round, the lens would suck in as it was extended, and blow out as it retracted. I'm not likely to get a job at NASA.
Rain still persists so it looks like book reading today - I have plenty to catch up on.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Raining - walked to toilet block in shorts - back in the caravan my legs felt as though they are being pricked all over by a million needles, but head.and face ok - the little blighters must be lurking in dense battalions at ground level.
Yesterday pm and all evening my strong 3/4 bar EE signal disappeared - "no service". This morning it is inexplicably back and I even found I could open my blog and reply to comments with only three bars and no 3G! Here's hoping I can publish this comment, otherwise it will be a walk, through the "insectation" to the Kinlochewe Hotel for morning coffee. It is only about four hundred yards... I could drive?
I mentioned my love hate relationship with tech in a comment reply. My hopeless determination to press on with this relationship is impaired by a mind more inclined to the arts than science, hence my desire to overcome the problems of tech in order to strive for a better standard in my writing.
Examples of my woeful grasp of science are many, and often at a basic level - here this one sums it up.
Recently my camera ingested dirt on the sensor. Talking to Gimmer, my friend from schooldays who has a chemistry degree from Oxford I suggested that the dirt had been ingested as the telephoto lens retracted. Gimmer pointed out that it would be the other way round, the lens would suck in as it was extended, and blow out as it retracted. I'm not likely to get a job at NASA.
Rain still persists so it looks like book reading today - I have plenty to catch up on.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, 21 August 2016
Torridon 3
Sunday 21st August
Just got back to Kinlochewe Hotel to pick up wifi after climbing:
Meal Ghiuthais NG 976 634
6 hours - hard going. Partial clearances, no rain.
It took me half an hour to get on wifi with BT Hotspot ( can't get on with the hotel wifi). Everything is so slow, and now every time I do anything Google wants me to enter email and password. I have had a good day, but this has really cheesed me off. Thanks for comments, I have tried to reply, but the problems have caused me to say much less than I wanted, and I have now run out of patience. Sorry folks, but I desperately need a shower and a lie down.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Just got back to Kinlochewe Hotel to pick up wifi after climbing:
Meal Ghiuthais NG 976 634
6 hours - hard going. Partial clearances, no rain.
It took me half an hour to get on wifi with BT Hotspot ( can't get on with the hotel wifi). Everything is so slow, and now every time I do anything Google wants me to enter email and password. I have had a good day, but this has really cheesed me off. Thanks for comments, I have tried to reply, but the problems have caused me to say much less than I wanted, and I have now run out of patience. Sorry folks, but I desperately need a shower and a lie down.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, 20 August 2016
Torridon 2
Saturday 20th August
Two- thirty and I've just landed in the Kinlochewe Hotel for tea and wifi after a five and a half hour up and down of another Marilyn:
Bidein Clann Rainaild NH 053 591
The start was straight from the caravan site. A rough rocky path lead up the edge of a forest onto open ground. There is a path marked on the map but it was intermittent and difficult to follow, and then had to be forsaken to strike for my summit over heather, bog and tussock. Good weather turned into hot sunshine and I am sitting here in the hotel bar with my shirt wringing wet. I asked the girl about their wifi. on 9 to 6 and 9 to 11 - she said almost apologetically, "we don't have it on for dinner, people must talk", so there you go.
I'm having to take my chances when I can to get wifi, and I don't have time to work ages over a more interesting report, but will keep trying; off for a shower now.
By the way I mentioned the new verb, to medal - for ages I have been using the verb, to summit.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Two- thirty and I've just landed in the Kinlochewe Hotel for tea and wifi after a five and a half hour up and down of another Marilyn:
Bidein Clann Rainaild NH 053 591
The start was straight from the caravan site. A rough rocky path lead up the edge of a forest onto open ground. There is a path marked on the map but it was intermittent and difficult to follow, and then had to be forsaken to strike for my summit over heather, bog and tussock. Good weather turned into hot sunshine and I am sitting here in the hotel bar with my shirt wringing wet. I asked the girl about their wifi. on 9 to 6 and 9 to 11 - she said almost apologetically, "we don't have it on for dinner, people must talk", so there you go.
I'm having to take my chances when I can to get wifi, and I don't have time to work ages over a more interesting report, but will keep trying; off for a shower now.
By the way I mentioned the new verb, to medal - for ages I have been using the verb, to summit.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Torridon 1
Friday 19th August
I arrived yesterday at the Caravan Club site at Kinlochewe.
I have a good EE phone signal but no wifi. The pub a few hundred yards away has wifi but for a reason unknown has it switched off between 6:00pm and 9pm, and I am self contained here and have no reason to go to the pub so posting on here and comments on other blogs will be intermittent at best.
Today I climbed Beinn a Mhuinidh NH 032 660 (Marilyn) from the car park at Incheril. From leaving the Loch Maree footpath there were no paths. First a short climb through chest high bracken then continuing very steep on rough ground up to the rim. After that endless undulations and rough going to the summit - three hours, return two and a half hours. The views of the Torridons, Slioch and further north to An Teallach were overwhelming, and I do not use that word lightly. It is a while since I have been in the Highlands and I was taken aback by the scale of things. I had an unrealistic feeling knowing that I had climbed many of the peaks I could see, that is the ones that are Munros, and I found it difficult to accept that I had the energy and motivation to press on and complete them all, most of them within a short period of time when I was in my sixties. It was pleasing to find that I can still do the odd hill like this at age 76, and I was once again uplifted with that Scottish Highlands magic tonic the weather was perfect, and although tough this was a little classic - no Marilyn pushover.
Back at the caravan midges were at about 8 out of 10, and it had started to rain heavily. I wanted a shower, but knew I would be eaten alive on the way back from the CC Club heated toilet block, so I used the one in my caravan which I rarely do. It works fine. Time now for a sundowner and catch up on the Olympics.
----------------
What about the new verb: to medal? It has come under some criticism, but language is a living thing continually developing, and I like this new addition.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I arrived yesterday at the Caravan Club site at Kinlochewe.
I have a good EE phone signal but no wifi. The pub a few hundred yards away has wifi but for a reason unknown has it switched off between 6:00pm and 9pm, and I am self contained here and have no reason to go to the pub so posting on here and comments on other blogs will be intermittent at best.
Today I climbed Beinn a Mhuinidh NH 032 660 (Marilyn) from the car park at Incheril. From leaving the Loch Maree footpath there were no paths. First a short climb through chest high bracken then continuing very steep on rough ground up to the rim. After that endless undulations and rough going to the summit - three hours, return two and a half hours. The views of the Torridons, Slioch and further north to An Teallach were overwhelming, and I do not use that word lightly. It is a while since I have been in the Highlands and I was taken aback by the scale of things. I had an unrealistic feeling knowing that I had climbed many of the peaks I could see, that is the ones that are Munros, and I found it difficult to accept that I had the energy and motivation to press on and complete them all, most of them within a short period of time when I was in my sixties. It was pleasing to find that I can still do the odd hill like this at age 76, and I was once again uplifted with that Scottish Highlands magic tonic the weather was perfect, and although tough this was a little classic - no Marilyn pushover.
Back at the caravan midges were at about 8 out of 10, and it had started to rain heavily. I wanted a shower, but knew I would be eaten alive on the way back from the CC Club heated toilet block, so I used the one in my caravan which I rarely do. It works fine. Time now for a sundowner and catch up on the Olympics.
----------------
What about the new verb: to medal? It has come under some criticism, but language is a living thing continually developing, and I like this new addition.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, 17 August 2016
Dales Way - Last few miles to Bowness-on-Windermere
Tuesday 16th August 2016
NB - title says "last few miles", but I still have one unwalked section left - from the start at Ilkley following the river Wharfe to Bolton Bridge, just over five miles.
--------------------
My eyes detect something huge and red in my peripheral vision as I approach Levens again (you may remember it was at Levens a couple of days ago when I decided to return home to retrieve my forgotten camera). Levens is starting to haunt me.
I react and look left. There is a massive Virgin, red, hot-air ballon perched on the rim of a bright green field a few hundred yards off the road. I do an unpremeditated u-turn and park in a lay-by opposite and get a quick photo, and then a zoom to the basket of people. After a few moments the balloon falls over on its side, still fully inflated, and lies horizontally on the field horizon, and a surprisingly large number of occupants start clambering out. All quite a bonus start, along with the bright sunny weather for this penultimate Dales Way fill-in campaign.
A muddy pull-off on the B5284 overshadowed by large trees and all gloomy provided parking fifty yards from the minor road heading off south to start my walk. After ten minutes down that road I remembered I had packed my boots, day walking rucksack with valuable contents, my Tom Tom satnav and various other items in preparation for my departure to Scotland on Thursday. Normally I don't leave valuables in the car, but today I couldn't help worrying, and envisaging the return to a scenario of broken glass and arguments and frustration with my insurance company. As the walk progressed with the ever changing scenery, old lanes, close cropped footpaths, ancient stiles,and little tarns and streams in this delightful, hummocky, fringe of the Lake District those thoughts were dissipated.
My own devised route took me on a sweep to the south of the B5284 heading east, to rejoin that road at The Howe. From there the climb through fields and several farms to get back to the point on the Dales Way where I left it last time was fairly hard going, and although there were footpath signs careful navigation was required entailing many stops to look at the map (on my iPhone), and to climb stiles. At the house of Boxtree I took a wide berth of half a dozen young bullocks resulting in me missing an insignificant gate in a hedge accessing a narrow footpath round the perimeter of Boxtree's garden, and I spent a lot of time finding this essential link to cross a mini wooded ravine next to the house - that footpath was the only way trough barring barbed wire fences and shredded clothing.
The Dales Way continued, always living up to my previous praises, and the distant Lake District hills came into view.
I met a group of six Duke of Edinburgh Gold expeditioners sheltering under the shade of trees. They were full of good cheer with much better organised rucksacks and smarter appearance than the Bronze debutantes one often meets. It is always good to see these youngsters (almost young men in this case) getting this experience whatever stage they are at.
Further on I met a couple with an English Setter dog and we had quite a long conversation. They found my blog on their mobile, but I hope they will look at it in its proper version later on a laptop or pc - mobile phones produce their own format for blogs and other websites which horribly downgrades the appearance.
I haven't a guide for this walk but the path marked on the map ends where the Taramc into Bowness begins so I descended a steep rocky path for a couple of hundred yards to the Tarmac, took a photo, then re-ascended to pick up my return route to the car. As I approached the B5284 I could hear non-stop traffic whizzing by, and this B road was unreasonably and puzzlingly heavy with traffic even allowing for its function as a secondary route into the Lake Distrrict. The car was thankfully intact.
-----------------------
Specially for Alan R after his comment:
NB - title says "last few miles", but I still have one unwalked section left - from the start at Ilkley following the river Wharfe to Bolton Bridge, just over five miles.
--------------------
My eyes detect something huge and red in my peripheral vision as I approach Levens again (you may remember it was at Levens a couple of days ago when I decided to return home to retrieve my forgotten camera). Levens is starting to haunt me.
I react and look left. There is a massive Virgin, red, hot-air ballon perched on the rim of a bright green field a few hundred yards off the road. I do an unpremeditated u-turn and park in a lay-by opposite and get a quick photo, and then a zoom to the basket of people. After a few moments the balloon falls over on its side, still fully inflated, and lies horizontally on the field horizon, and a surprisingly large number of occupants start clambering out. All quite a bonus start, along with the bright sunny weather for this penultimate Dales Way fill-in campaign.
A muddy pull-off on the B5284 overshadowed by large trees and all gloomy provided parking fifty yards from the minor road heading off south to start my walk. After ten minutes down that road I remembered I had packed my boots, day walking rucksack with valuable contents, my Tom Tom satnav and various other items in preparation for my departure to Scotland on Thursday. Normally I don't leave valuables in the car, but today I couldn't help worrying, and envisaging the return to a scenario of broken glass and arguments and frustration with my insurance company. As the walk progressed with the ever changing scenery, old lanes, close cropped footpaths, ancient stiles,and little tarns and streams in this delightful, hummocky, fringe of the Lake District those thoughts were dissipated.
My own devised route took me on a sweep to the south of the B5284 heading east, to rejoin that road at The Howe. From there the climb through fields and several farms to get back to the point on the Dales Way where I left it last time was fairly hard going, and although there were footpath signs careful navigation was required entailing many stops to look at the map (on my iPhone), and to climb stiles. At the house of Boxtree I took a wide berth of half a dozen young bullocks resulting in me missing an insignificant gate in a hedge accessing a narrow footpath round the perimeter of Boxtree's garden, and I spent a lot of time finding this essential link to cross a mini wooded ravine next to the house - that footpath was the only way trough barring barbed wire fences and shredded clothing.
The Dales Way continued, always living up to my previous praises, and the distant Lake District hills came into view.
I met a group of six Duke of Edinburgh Gold expeditioners sheltering under the shade of trees. They were full of good cheer with much better organised rucksacks and smarter appearance than the Bronze debutantes one often meets. It is always good to see these youngsters (almost young men in this case) getting this experience whatever stage they are at.
Further on I met a couple with an English Setter dog and we had quite a long conversation. They found my blog on their mobile, but I hope they will look at it in its proper version later on a laptop or pc - mobile phones produce their own format for blogs and other websites which horribly downgrades the appearance.
I haven't a guide for this walk but the path marked on the map ends where the Taramc into Bowness begins so I descended a steep rocky path for a couple of hundred yards to the Tarmac, took a photo, then re-ascended to pick up my return route to the car. As I approached the B5284 I could hear non-stop traffic whizzing by, and this B road was unreasonably and puzzlingly heavy with traffic even allowing for its function as a secondary route into the Lake Distrrict. The car was thankfully intact.
Please click on first photo to see enlarged slideshow
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| I saw no bull. I'm a bit concerned about that grey patch above the gate, but it doesn't seem to occur on other photos |
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| Old water tanks, rusted right through - for my Relics folder |
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| On the climb from the B5284 back up to the Dales Way Scruffy farm contrasted with the pleasant scenery |
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| I know people from abroad view this blog so this and next two give a feel for scenery that fellow UK viewers will be familiar with |
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| Distant Lake District fells |
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| First glimpse of Lake windermere - big zoom |
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| Windermere, above Bowness, looking north |
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| CLICK TO ENLARGE |
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Specially for Alan R after his comment:
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| Alan - does this help? |
Sunday, 14 August 2016
Dales Way (Bowston to a few miles from Bowness)
Saturday 13th August 2016
" I was just worried you might fall off".
Words from a lady motorist on the other side of a pair of nine foot high wrought iron gates with spikes on the top. Why oh why didn't I take a photo? I was high up trying to get my left foot over the spikes and in perhaps more danger than I thought.
The gates are at the entrance to Cowan Head.
"Cowan Head is a luxury residential development of sixty apartments and cottages created on the site of an eighteenth century paper mill.
Look at the map below. You will see there are paths on either side of the river from Bowston, one is the Dales Way, the other is not. I took the wrong one.
At Cowan Head less than a kilometre upstream I realised my mistake. There is a gate with a notice saying "strictly private, residents only, cctv in operation" and a bridge connecting to the luxury apartments on the other side of the river, and the Dales Way on the adjacent road. There is another bridge a few hundred yards upstream so I marched on only to find it has been washed away. I returned and went over the private bridge into the Cowan Head complex and set off walking to the exit only to be confronted by the huge, electronically controlled locked gates. There was nobody about. I decided to climb. It wasn't going well when the car approached from the other side. I descended with not much dignity and the gates hummed open. The lady was quite kind, more concerend about my safety than my trespass.
That epic took place long after my start at St. Catherine's Church when I elected to do the none Dales Way part first which again proved to be a super mélange of old country lanes and narrow roads, benign sheep-cropped fields, and mysterious streams bubbling off into dark enclaves. There is smug satisfaction in devising my own route from the map, especially when it turns out so well.
Towards the end of the route I met Julie and "?", sorry the gent's name has gone from my head. They were backpacking the whole of the Dales Way and on their way to the finish at Bowness. We walked and chatted together for half a mile or so until I left the path to return to my starting point. These two were experienced backpackers and full of enthusiasm and interest, (they had just wild camped on Cam Fell) and I wish I had obtained an email address to maybe compare our future exploits. I did mention this blog to them and hopefully they will read this and get in touch (conrob@me.com).
" I was just worried you might fall off".
Words from a lady motorist on the other side of a pair of nine foot high wrought iron gates with spikes on the top. Why oh why didn't I take a photo? I was high up trying to get my left foot over the spikes and in perhaps more danger than I thought.
The gates are at the entrance to Cowan Head.
"Cowan Head is a luxury residential development of sixty apartments and cottages created on the site of an eighteenth century paper mill.
Look at the map below. You will see there are paths on either side of the river from Bowston, one is the Dales Way, the other is not. I took the wrong one.
At Cowan Head less than a kilometre upstream I realised my mistake. There is a gate with a notice saying "strictly private, residents only, cctv in operation" and a bridge connecting to the luxury apartments on the other side of the river, and the Dales Way on the adjacent road. There is another bridge a few hundred yards upstream so I marched on only to find it has been washed away. I returned and went over the private bridge into the Cowan Head complex and set off walking to the exit only to be confronted by the huge, electronically controlled locked gates. There was nobody about. I decided to climb. It wasn't going well when the car approached from the other side. I descended with not much dignity and the gates hummed open. The lady was quite kind, more concerend about my safety than my trespass.
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| I managed to cull this from the Internet |
I am often asked why I mostly walk alone. Well, I reckon it would be too discomfitting to subject companions too often to my ability to make the most mundane walks into embarrassing epics.
That epic took place long after my start at St. Catherine's Church when I elected to do the none Dales Way part first which again proved to be a super mélange of old country lanes and narrow roads, benign sheep-cropped fields, and mysterious streams bubbling off into dark enclaves. There is smug satisfaction in devising my own route from the map, especially when it turns out so well.
Towards the end of the route I met Julie and "?", sorry the gent's name has gone from my head. They were backpacking the whole of the Dales Way and on their way to the finish at Bowness. We walked and chatted together for half a mile or so until I left the path to return to my starting point. These two were experienced backpackers and full of enthusiasm and interest, (they had just wild camped on Cam Fell) and I wish I had obtained an email address to maybe compare our future exploits. I did mention this blog to them and hopefully they will read this and get in touch (conrob@me.com).
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| St Catherine's Church. I parked in their car park, just off right of photo. This was built in 1887 - the remains of the originsal are just up the hill - see next two photos |
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| Crook Hall |
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| Minor roads with views. Did I mention it was drizzly when I set off? In Scotland a "dreish" day. It cleared up later |
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| You know you are on the ancient paths |
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| "...mysterious streams bubbling off into dark enclaves." |
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| Just another relic |
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| Old bridleways - a sense of history |
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| Cowan Head, here on the other side of the river from my route - scene of my encounter with the high gate. All previous photos were on my outward route supporting my enthusiasm |
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| After the gate episode. Tranquil walking on the Dales Way on the correct side of the River Kent |
Friday, 12 August 2016
Storrs Hall (Arkholme, Lancs)
Thursday 12th August 2016
A good start to my Thursday walk with Pete.
I put my rucksack in the boot then decide to retrieve my iPad from the rucksack. I still have the car keys in my hand and manage to leave them behind in the rucksack as I bring out the iPad. I slam down the lid, et voilà, I am locked out of my car, Oh, it's so easy to do.
It was not a major disaster - I keep a spare key in the house, but I feel the humiliation because I have a personal rule, that I will never close that boot lid without checking I have the keys in my hand. Time to fall on my sword?
Driving to Pete's there is fizzle on the windscreen; the cloud cover is broody and ominous. Turning down Pete's lane there are three or four dark clad guys, all looking miserable and working their way door to door to try and inflict their beliefs on the good souls (but not in their opinions) of Arnside.
Pete warns his missus not to bother answering the door when the call comes.
I seem to have exhausted all suitable circular walks and I am now looking for those roads on the map that go nowhere so we can walk to the end and then back again over a total distance of about four miles. Perhaps there is some kind of message in walking to nowhere - I will have to think about that.
It did rain a bit during the last ten minutes back to the car. The walk had not been particularly inspiring and we were glad to get back to Café Ambio for tea and flapjack amongst the farmers (our Thurday port of call is attached to the new purpose built livestock mart near Jct. 36 on the M6).The farmers ostensibly go there to buy and sell their animals, but also to engage in lively, bucolic conversation in the café. I reckon it is a lonely existence for many of them and the weekly visit to this venue appears to be a welcome social opportunity.
My last post produced lively discussion about the features of the iPhone as a camera. I have now delved further into this and still find the thing not to my liking. The latest irritation is its penchant for taking photos in "burst" mode so you can have the dubious pleasure of selecting the one you want out of a dozen or so and then going onto forums to find out how to delete the rest. Disabling this function, according to various Internet sources is a mystery, and even if possible, not straightforward. Anyway I've had enough of it. The HDR (high dynamic range) feature which also uses several different shots to make a composite picture allowing for correct exposure of over and under exposure in different parts of the photo is apparently only any good if you use a tripod because exposure time is too long to overcome the slight movements if hand held. I don't want to be faffing with a tripod most of the time. When I use my Panasonic TZ60 I download photos onto my computer and run most of them through Photoshop Elements and adjust for: "lighten or darken highlights" and "lighten or darken shadows". That achieves the same result as the HDR does on the iPhone and I am now very slick with this operation. I also have the advantage of seeing exactly what is happening to the photo as I slide the controls enabling me to fine tune to maximum benefit. There are other controls that I use only occasionally for "brightness", and "sharpen".
The photos below were taken on this walk with my Panasonic. the first being as downloaded from the camera and the second after my Photoshop adjustments. The photos themselves are not good for various reasons, not least the flora blowing about in the strong wind, but they do serve to demonstrate what I am writing about.
If all this photo stuff is of interest to you and you have managed to read this far please take the trouble to CLICK the first photo to see enlarged versions. The results of my adjustments are normally more beneficial than this lot, but in the interest of getting this posted I have used these poor photos which were to hand.
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| Note the difference in the sky on this one |
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| Add caption |
Tuesday, 9 August 2016
Dales Way - Patton Bridge to Bowston Bridge
Monday 8th August 2016
How far would you drive before returning home to retrieve an item you had forgotten? I suppose it depends on the importance of that item, and the possibility of improvising some replacement. Today it was my camera. I had driven as far as Levens (about five miles). I went back.
My iPhone camera was a possible alternative, but I hate it. I always seem to get part of my hand in front of the lens, or find that it has switched itself to video mode when the shot I am taking depends on a fleeting moment, and the touch screen controls are not, for me, user friendly, and there is no zoom at the time of operation, or macro mode. Multi-purpose inventions nearly always involve compromise.
Even so I was still off and walking from Bowston Bridge by 9:30am for this next section of Dales Way fill-ins. I think it will take two more expeditions to arrive at the Bowness finish, then I will need to walk from the start at Ilkley as far as Bolton Bridge, south of Bolton Abbey. I walked from Bolton Bridge as far as Buckden on the DW during my LEJOG trip in 2008. That section is the definitive heart and soul of this excellent LDP, but that is not to detract from the specific merits of other sections.
The distance for my sections on the DW can only be half the distance of my walk because I need to return to the car and my starting point. Today I decided to do the foreign bit first. Although there was quite a bit of road walking it was mainly on grass-in-the-middle lanes, with only the occasional, but nearly always spotted little post-office-red Royal Mail van with the usual cheery wave. There were old tracks and bye-ways and constant interest with country cottages, expansive edge of the Lake District scenery which I particularly enjoy, sparkling energetic rivers, and a general feeling of having the good fortune to be a part of it all. That part of the walking was nearly as good as the DW itself and would justify a repeat any day.
How far would you drive before returning home to retrieve an item you had forgotten? I suppose it depends on the importance of that item, and the possibility of improvising some replacement. Today it was my camera. I had driven as far as Levens (about five miles). I went back.
My iPhone camera was a possible alternative, but I hate it. I always seem to get part of my hand in front of the lens, or find that it has switched itself to video mode when the shot I am taking depends on a fleeting moment, and the touch screen controls are not, for me, user friendly, and there is no zoom at the time of operation, or macro mode. Multi-purpose inventions nearly always involve compromise.
Even so I was still off and walking from Bowston Bridge by 9:30am for this next section of Dales Way fill-ins. I think it will take two more expeditions to arrive at the Bowness finish, then I will need to walk from the start at Ilkley as far as Bolton Bridge, south of Bolton Abbey. I walked from Bolton Bridge as far as Buckden on the DW during my LEJOG trip in 2008. That section is the definitive heart and soul of this excellent LDP, but that is not to detract from the specific merits of other sections.
The distance for my sections on the DW can only be half the distance of my walk because I need to return to the car and my starting point. Today I decided to do the foreign bit first. Although there was quite a bit of road walking it was mainly on grass-in-the-middle lanes, with only the occasional, but nearly always spotted little post-office-red Royal Mail van with the usual cheery wave. There were old tracks and bye-ways and constant interest with country cottages, expansive edge of the Lake District scenery which I particularly enjoy, sparkling energetic rivers, and a general feeling of having the good fortune to be a part of it all. That part of the walking was nearly as good as the DW itself and would justify a repeat any day.
PLEASE CLICK TO ENLARGE
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| Start/finish Bowston Bridge - lefthand end - clockwise |
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| Just before Bowston Bridge, I seem to be getting a thing about VR post boxes. Their surroundings generally seem to be attractive |
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| Downstream from Bowston Bridge on the River Kent. The photo at the end of this lot is taken from below on the left side looking up to this point as I arrived back to complete my circle |
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| Zoom. There were about a dozen of these a couple of hundred yards away spread accross a low lying field |
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| I liked the combination of this patinated iron chain, the ancient piece of weathered timber, and the more modern rusty gate |
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| Edge of the Lake district scenery which has a special attraction for me |
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| I proceeded. See next photo |
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| If you look at the map this is just after the road bridge north of the G of Garth Row about 2km east from Bowston. That road would be rarely used and there are reasonable alternatives, so I can't see there being a priority for getting this repaired in the light of current austerity |
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| As a layman tractor spotter I thought this was probably slightly unusual. I have stopped snapping the more familiar ones. |
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| Another VR At last, from here on we are actually on the Dales Way |
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| Black Moss Tarn - perfect stopping place. I sat on a large boulder here with a flask of black coffee, a cheese sandwich enhanced by my new discovery: Trecklemate's Red Onion Marmalade, and some shortbread biscuits. Try also Trecklemate's English mustard, it is in a league of its own. |
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| Sprint Bridge (where the pylon line crosses the road below Sprint Mill on the map) is closed due to flood damage. This aqueduct is upstream a few hundred metres and it now provides the means for the DW to cross the river - it is not marked on the map |
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| Two quality "relics" (for my collection) |
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| Zoom - this guy (or lady?) was about a hundred metres away looking like this when spotted, but by the time camera was ready the goat was head down - I whistled loudly and up came the head - I was pretty proud of that |
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| The closed Sprint Bridge referred to above. There were guys in high viz jackets lurking at the other side. |
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| Burneside Hall More about this from the website from which the clip below was culled CLICK HERE "...a ruined 14th century pele tower now attached to a farm house and outbuildings. The fortification of the house was licensed in 1341 when the tower and pele house was built." |
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| Pleasant walking along the Sprint back to Bowston |
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| Bowston Bridge, looking back up to the bridge from where the opening photo was taken _____________________
I took fairly accurate notes of time and distance:
9.69 miles
Overall time - 4.83 hours - average 2.01mph including stops
Stops - 30 mins, therefore actual walking -2.4mph
Sorry Gayle - no graphs or bar charts.
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