I know this is grainy. But it’s been a long time since I made a point of seeing that kind of thing as a marker of quality. This shot will do as well as any other to epitomise my day, or at least, the part of it I spent hiking up near the Emley Moor TV mast, which is as good a Yorkshire landmark as anything. I seem to still be continuing the blog so on we go with its 14th year, and happy birthday to me too: you can do the sums.
As no one really gives a toss whether I turn up at the office or not — particularly not in August — why not take the opportunity to get on a train, do a few hours’ work on the day, but still then take the afternoon off and spend it somewhere nice and sunny? The Conwy/Llandudno region is a fine-looking part of the world (as we discovered when we came here eight years ago). These kinds of regular Days Out are probably what it will take to keep me going for the rest of my life, spiritually — so let’s take the chances while they still come. And when the trains are working.
By British standards, Yorkshire has always been a big county. Chopped around with a bit since 1974, nevertheless, in terms of its historic boundaries it was the largest in the country. And Mickle Fell, at 2,585 feet/788m above sea level, was its highest point. Truly, therefore, between about 10.30 and 11.00 am, I was Top Yorkshireman — geographically, at least.
Of course, since 1974 this territory was allocated to County Durham instead — but let’s gloss over that little detail. If you want to find out more about my walk today, please do have a look at my other blog.
This blog has been going long enough (we approach 13 years next month), but my regular walks in the Lake District predate it: it was 19th July 2009 when the LD blog recorded ‘walk 1‘. Fifteen years have since passed, and with walk 215 today — I haven’t published the page just yet but will do so soon — I completed my bagging of every one of the 330 Wainwright fells therein: twice. Well, it’s certainly given me something to do (and to spend money on) in that time: but I am not upset it is finished, quite relieved, in fact. No broken legs, you know?
These guys stand at the top of Grains Gill, which runs into the heart of the District south from Borrowdale. I have just come off Great End, which would, toponymically, made a good finishing point but it turned out to be my penultimate fell — from here there is still Seathwaite Fell to come, just to the left of this shot.
The southern coast of the Isle of Wight is one of the best places in the world to find fossils. This is not, I now realise, because more creatures somehow died here in the past. In fact it is because the entirety of this coast is sliding, fairly rapidly, into the English Channel, and so things long buried are regularly uncovered. Look at the erosion here — and the obvious geology, sandstone on the left, chalk thereafter. If you want my considered opinion I wouldn’t buy property too near this coast.
I have yet to start bringing my own deckchairs to beaches, and Clare and I remain, hopefully, more active than this — we reached Shanklin beach today, on the east coast of the Isle of Wight, after a 7.75 mile walk that you can read more about on my other blog. But in spirit, here we are. Give us ten years — maybe fifteen — and our bodies may be here too.
A sign of divine intervention above Lake Ontario this afternoon? Well, more likely explained by the fact that over there lies Billy Bishop Airport, Toronto’s downtown terminal for domestic flights. Something to look at, either way.
I first visited Niagara Falls on a freezing cold day in April 1989, when I was 19, and with a trip to make from Toronto to Buffalo for a workshop tomorrow, there seemed no reason to not stop off on the way for another look, 35 years later. On neither visit have I been unimpressed: the falls are certainly a monumental spectacle and manage to rise above the excessive tourist tat that spreads along each bank of the river (and is somewhat worse on the Canadian side, I thought). What you see here are the American Falls on the left then the narrow Bridal Veil fall on the right.
And, a curiosity: though everything you see in this picture is the territory of the USA, I was stood in Canada when I took it. Not long afterwards I walked across the Rainbow Bridge into the States, making this, I am pretty sure, only the second time I have crossed an international border as a pedestrian, after Spain/Gibraltar. (Italy to the Vatican and back can’t really count.)
More weather, but it was better today, and anyway I don’t care as once again I am leaving the country. Whether conditions will be improved where I’m going, who knows. The first part of my journey was by rail — this shot was snapped at about 90mph somewhere in the vicinity of Peterborough.
Dumgoyne is a steep little volcanic plug that rises on the edge of the Campsie Fells, north of Glasgow. On the map it looked like a nice little prologue to the actual destination of my hike, which was Earl’s Seaat, one of the County Tops, although less photogenic. But in fact, I never made it to the top of Dumgoyne: one of those climbs that the nearer I got to it in actuality, the less appeal it had. No matter: CT #81 was duly bagged about two hours later.
Being 42 