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.
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!
This is the second time the River Tyne has been depicted on this blog, but the first time I saw it, it was considerably smaller: this was on my walk up Burnhope Seat in 2020, where I passed the farm of ‘Tynehead’ at the other end of the river. By Newcastle the Tyne has grown fat, big enough to have what is, reputedly, the largest wooden construction in Europe built out in the middle of it — Dunston Staiths, a former coalport. And there it is. I like the lamp-posts on this one, too.
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.
My last block of time before work really kicks in for the next academic year, and early September has been used before as an excuse to bugger off to the Lake District for a couple of days. In 2016, for instance, the 7th and 8th September were spent hiking out to the bothy at Mosedale Cottage. This year it was Wasdale, for four of the twelve Wainwrights I still had to do. Seatallan is one of the less exciting ones on the list, a seemingly endless grassy slope which these two walkers have nearly finished climbing, to their relief, I am sure. In the background, Black Combe.
I went out on a walk today: the last day, officially, of my Easter break. I saw no reason to stay at home. I don’t know quite why I like this picture, except that it was one of those that worked out as anticipated; this is the picture I hoped it would be when I pressed the shutter. The road is the A1, a mile or so east of the town of Chester-le-Street, in County Durham.
This walker knew just what she was doing when she saw me pull out my camera. She called over afterwards, saying ‘don’t mind me…’ — but I assured her that I had got the shot.
For more pictures of today, being my latest attempt to stay sane and healthy, see the page on my County Tups blog. Also, as this technically counts as being in Bolton, I now have to award that place the title of ‘location to have the longest gap between appearances on the blog’. It’s 2,539 days since its first, and only other, appearance on the blog thanks to Bolton Wanderers’ stadium featuring on day 933 (15/3/2014). At over 1,000 feet in height — not to mention that its base is itself 1,440 feet above sea level — the TV mast seen here is one of the tallest structures in the UK.
January 2021 hasn’t featured a football match, a visit to a pub or a night away from home — and I sincerely doubt February 2021 is going to differ in any of these ways. But I have done my damnedest to have it feature some healthy exercise. This gets no less healthy if one travels more than five miles from home — in fact, for those who live in urban areas, the opposite may be true. This fact seems to elude those who find it blithely OK that the government has removed freedom of movement within our own country.
For more pictures from today’s bout of exercise along with the usual accompanying self-reflection, see my County Tops blog.
On the higher of the two summits of Angletarn Pikes, the gentleman seems determined to draw the attention of his wife towards the less interesting half of the view.
There’s something strange going on with this shot don’t you think? It almost looks artificial, like the two models are in a studio and the mountains are back projected. Brothers Water looks strange too, like all this is a collage I’ve pieced together and then stuck on a bit of tin foil in a deconstructionist kind of way.
Being 42 