The family’s annual concession of a bit of exercise, alongside the eating and drinking that is also to come. We were only about another fifteen minutes from the pub at this point. Happy Christmas to you all.
A day when it was hard to pick one single photo, but that is why — for such occasions — I have my other walking blog, where I don’t submit myself to such silly rules as one pic per day. The weather conditions for a walk in the Lake District were marvellous today, not just because of the blue skies above but the clouds below, filling up the valleys all day and allowing even the most humble of mountains to float above giant lakes of whipped cream for a while. The parts of Loughrigg Fell that are on the left cannot be more than about 400 feet above sea level, at the points where they emerge from the clouds. Wansfell Pike, the prominent rise in the background, is about 1,500 feet.
Brock Barrow is only about 750 feet above sea level (228m for all you metric system users) but it has a good view, including of Coniston Water below. Nice cairn too. It becomes my 303rd Wainwright on my second round: 27 to go. Tell you what though, it was damn windy and cold up there, even if it doesn’t look it. I just about got my 202nd Wainwright walk in before a storm arrived at lunchtime.
After five interior shots I had to get outside, the day being of the pleasant sort that might not recur too often before winter really hits. No trains, however — blame the government — so I had to conduct my wanderings somewhere nearer to home. Between Walsden and Bacup there lies a chunk of moorland that was previously unexplored, so I duly explored it. This shot is taken from very close to the Yorkshire/Lancashire border, but still just on the Yorkshire side.
The title of this post is not ironic: despite appearances, this place really is called Skiddaw Forest. I don’t know if other parts of the world use the word or its equivalent to describe places that are as vastly treeless as this is, but we English do pride ourselves on our sense of wry humour, do we not. (For more pictures of this and nearby places, see my Lake District walking blog.)
Darrach Hill lies a short (but not easy) way north of the town of Kilsyth, in central Scotland. Ot becomes the fifty-ninth County Top that I have surmounted — and if you’re interested in that parallel project please do follow my other blog. The summit of this hill is only 1,171 feet/357m above sea level — sounds easy, right? Don’t you believe it. The crap that one has to negotiate to reach the summit fully justifies my use of the anatomical reference in the title of this post.
On 29th July 2012, ten years ago, I was obliged to leave the rustic yet comfortable surroundings of the Black Sail hut and haul myself over Great Gable, a substantial lump of rock, in what remains the grimmest weather conditions I have encountered on any of my Lakeland walks. As today’s trip was the 200th of those — a pleasing milestone to reach — it was also pleasing that the weather was a damn sight better. (See my other blog for the full details.)
Wandope wasn’t one of the two Wainwrights bagged on the day, but this long-distance shot of its summit was the picture that pleased me the most: a case of it turning out just as was intended. The slopes in the background are those of the High Stile range, over Buttermere.
Pistyll Rhaeadr may or may not be the highest waterfall across both Wales and England — the award depends whether you are troubled by the fact that it does not fall in a single drop. Either way it’s an impressive water feature, set off very well by the natural arch in the middle (seen here), through which the water threads like a curtain through a ring. Well worth seeing, despite being ripped off £5 for the car park. (For more pictures from today see my County Tops blog.)
The day was spent indoors but the horizons ranged rather wider. What you see here amounts to about 40% of my collection of Ordnance Survey 1:25,000 maps of the UK; ‘the hiker’s Bible’, for sure. I shall hopefully be making use of one chapter before the week is out.
A June walk, and another chance to experience the British weather’s propensity to change from balmy to, if not exactly wintry, then definitely cold and grey over the course of 24 hours. This is why the sheep have better insulation than we do. Stoodley Pike appears for the nth time: it might not be a very prominent peak topographically but the monument on it proves it can be seen for many miles in every direction.
Being 42 