This shot was actually incidental to the walk I completed today — my penultimate Wainwright walk, unless there is some big change of plan between now and, say, the next month. Skiddaw was nowhere near where I was. But — it looks so good here. All macho and domineering, despite its sheen of snowy white. Would that we could all look so good at a few million years old.
The first shot taken in Hebden Bridge since 25th January. It’s nice to travel, but it is also nice to come home. Even if the weather while I was away was wintrier here than in Canada — this much is obvious.
Time to return to the CN Tower, still the tallest ‘free-standing structure’ outside Asia, and as I did successfully get up it this time, the highest I have ever been above ground in a building. The Skypod observation deck is still 330 feet further above the main deck, from where I took this picture, so this is about 1,130 feet, looking west along the shore of Lake Ontario, the distant towers are in the suburb of Mississauga I think. The CN is basically a glorified bar-café-restaurant, but it does have a damn good view. It’s the tallest thing around by such a margin that everything else just looks tiny.
Unable to secure my preferred window seat I was reduced this afternoon to craning the camera past the head of my neighbour (with her permission I would add), kicking in a long zoom and hoping for the best. The colour balance was destroyed, but in black and white I just about get away with it. If you count my couple of hours of stopover in 2017, which nevertheless produced a shot similar to this — the blog’s third visit to Toronto.
Sometimes days slip into the past so quickly: I post this on Sunday morning and couldn’t really tell you very much about what happened on Friday. I worked, basically. And it was cold, still. Although I know that some forty-three hours later, all the snow has gone.
There are worse things to do on a fairly pleasant Sunday morning, whether for the players or the people watching. Or the people taking photographs, not just of the action but also the backdrop: wind turbines and all.
Let’s have a lot less vehicle-related morbidity and much more healthy outdoor exercise, miles (well, OK, about a mile) from the nearest traffic. Alfred Wainwright, who does know what he’s talking about, describes the summit thus:
here, on the summit of little Helm Crag, a midget of a mountain, is a remarkable array of rocks, upstanding and fallen, of singular interest and fascinating appearance, that yield a quality of reward out of all proportion to the short and simple climb. The uppermost reaches of Scafell and Helvellyn and Skiddaw can show nothing like Helm Crag’s crown of shattered and petrified stone: indeed, its highest point, a pinnacle of rock thrust out above a dark abyss, is not to be attained by walking and is brought underfoot only by precarious manoeuvers of the body. This is one of the very few summits in Lakeland reached only by climbing rocks, and it is certainly (but not for that reason alone) one of the very best.
And he’s right. Even in the mist, this is a great spot. And those two rocks do look like a lion and a lamb, don’t you think? That’s their official name, anyway. (For more pictures from today see my other blog.)
The Midland’s second appearance on the blog, after this shot, 2,627 days ago– which is less vivid, and I prefer this one. It’s nice that we’re getting some sunshine, which in the last few weeks of 2023, was at a premium.
The County Tops project exists so I can find excuses to get about the country, and this won’t be my last trip to South Wales by any means. These lumps of rock and grass will get me back again: these slopes eventually culminate in Pen y Fan (its summit obscured by mist in this shot), highest of the Brecon Beacons and the highest point anywhere in the country south of Snowdonia. I was just driving past today, though — it can wait.
I worked out that before today, I had been to 25 of the top 30 cities in the UK ranked by population: as of today I have now been to 26, as I (and Clare) paid a first-ever visit to Swansea this weekend. And among the things I discovered about the second-biggest place in Wales was that it has a superb beach, which seems to stretch for miles. Early January isn’t necessarily the optimal time to visit such a place, but so what?
Being 42 