However you interpret the title of this post, as I get older the idea of a Day of Recovery is becoming more appealing. I needed it — and the boots certainly did, after Friday’s sogginess and then, two days stuffed into a pack. I think they’re feeling better after a day sat around doing very little. As am I.
I would have preferred more of the sunshine and less of the showers, but at least this is a combination known to produce some pleasing atmospheric effects. The mountain behind is called Stob nan Coinnich Bhacain — please don’t ask me to pronounce that — but my destination for the day was Ben Vorlich, County Top number 107. More photos are therefore on the other blog.
The first part of my day was spent up the hill in the background, Ward Hill: not an easy lump of sandstone to get up or down, thanks to its steep sides (evident in this shot), but worth the bother. The second part of my day was spent at the easier-to-reach environs of Stromness FC, members of the Orkney ‘A’ League, and their match against Dounby (here in blue). I couldn’t decide which one was worth making Pic of the Day so let’s just choose one that accommdates both these pleasures.
As part of the contract that is Being Married to Drew, Clare occasionally gets dragged up remote moorlands, like Meikle Says Law in the Lammermuir Hills — the top of this (a County Top) being somewhere in the vague brown moorland to top right. This was the final stage back to the car. I call it the ‘last climb for now’ because I assume she might be motivated to do another one or two in the future before one of us dies…. though who knows for sure?
This is the last of the shots from the current road trip in Scotland, a passage of time which has seen it overtake Australia as the second-most depicted country on here after England.
The lump to top right is Ben More. Its Gaelic name literally means “Big Hill”, and it can join the ranks of places that have clearly been named for their physical characteristics. On the left of this shot, the start of the path up it, and it’s representative of the whole — a 3,000-foot climb, all like this. Imagine climbing one of the staircases up the Eiffel Tower, three times in succession. Do I do these things for fun? Yes, I suppose I do. (See also the other blog.)
At 3,156 feet/962m, Yr Elen — it may just mean Helen or Eleanor, or it might mean “The Leech”; you decide, that’s Welsh for you — is apparently the ninth-highest mountain in Wales. The last of five biggish lumps of rock that I negotiated today. More details on the other blog, as ever.
When I realised the weather forecast was going to stay much the same — that is, warm and sunny — throughout our visit to Scotland, a walk became by far the best choice for a Saturday activity. It wasn’t too hard to rearrange things accordingly, and I did not regret doing so. Below, the River Clyde, winding its way from Glasgow, over in the distance, to the sea, and crossed here by the Erskine Bridge. More photos and details of the day are on my County Tops blog.
Ascension Island is greener than I expected, although this is mainly due to the spread of an invasive weed, Mexican thorn, which authorities are trying to control (with some recent success it seems). But the peak in the centre of the island has long been known as Green Mountain for good reason. It was on this mountain that, in the 19th century, botanist Joseph Hooker embarked on a giant horticultural project to plant a forest and bring more rain to the island — and the jungle in the foreground of this shot is evidence that he succeeded. In fact, as far as I can tell this view is shrouded in cloud most of the time — some more is just visible drifting in from the right, but I nabbed the shot in a rare clear spell on my Sunday morning walk up to the island’s summit. Note also the Perfect Crater — that’s its official name — visible to the right of the cone of Sisters’ Peak.
Well, I didn’t have anything better today, and by the signs of it, neither did he. I hope he enjoyed his bout of exercise as much as I did. (For more details see my other blog.)
The Pennines are, definitely, the vertebrae of Britain (supporting the large, shaggy head that is Scotland). And today I, definitely, walked from one side of them to the other, starting a hike in Greenfield on the west and ending it in Marsden to the east: with the town seen in the background here being Huddersfield. Today, therefore, I definitely crossed England, in watershed terms anyway. The two guys seen here may or may not have done the same.
Can I note, though, that a lot of England’s spine is comprised of peaty, boggy shit. Get it cleaned up, England!
Being 42 