tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25881785929841655042024-03-05T07:45:55.274-08:00Car Free WalksA blog about all things car-free walking - taking the bus or train to explore the glorious peaks and valleys of the UKTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-69124120786573778852011-12-05T12:51:00.001-08:002011-12-05T12:51:34.100-08:00New site<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e8WG2Sf9tr8/Tt0tFOMoBrI/AAAAAAAAANA/kUOLpsoINQE/s1600/blog%2Bnew%2Bsite.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-e8WG2Sf9tr8/Tt0tFOMoBrI/AAAAAAAAANA/kUOLpsoINQE/s320/blog%2Bnew%2Bsite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682747872545081010" /></a> The observant amongst you will have noticed that this Blog hasn't been updated for a while. Well it's certainly not because we haven't been busy - far from it! - but because we have now incorporated these musings into our very lovely, slick in design, new website which you can view with your very own eyes at <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org">www.carfreewalks.org</a>.<br /><br />We hope you'll take a look very soon.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-67401108044059246522010-11-12T11:33:00.000-08:002010-11-12T12:29:31.874-08:00The night train<p class="MsoNormal">Some people might think it unwise to plan a trip to the hills more than two days in advance, let alone two months. But being southern in address, frugal by nature and a non-driver by choice, there is little I can do but throw caution to the wind and commit to the uncertainties of the Scottish weather and plan my adventures early. So on the last day of the stag stalking season, two friends and I from the deepest corners of England’s home counties converged at London Euston to catch the evening sleeper train heading north.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For anyone not familiar with the sleeper, it is nothing if not enjoyable. We lounged in leather sofas while being served cold beer and poring over maps of far-flung lands (in this case OS Explorer map 429) before retiring to our snug bunks, the gentle 80mph perfect for rocking us to sleep. Then in the morning, a cheerful knock at the door and a hot coffee in bed, served in good time to rouse oneself from gentle slumbers and be deposited, early in fact, at the destination of choice. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So it was at 8.30am on a Friday morning, we found ourselves at Inverness station immersed in a misty drizzle. The short interval before our onward train towards Kyle of Lochash allowed little opportunity to source the full-cooked breakfast of our slightly inebriated dreams, meaning a station concourse special for us – flimsy cups full of sausage and beans with disintegrating bags of half-buttered toast.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0NJ8Bp4Ah8DLDLX4O3bVFSObHRskfrCNDEfIYbpXBXJ1N2id6S2hX2JXCq9OigmJd6vXwMShWJPGpxNaT-XFRpisfttUup1ZuCqm8XTuG_9Mxyk8HuoXt8j7tul0HJcFldm9_dwAkfEQ/s1600/IMG_6799.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0NJ8Bp4Ah8DLDLX4O3bVFSObHRskfrCNDEfIYbpXBXJ1N2id6S2hX2JXCq9OigmJd6vXwMShWJPGpxNaT-XFRpisfttUup1ZuCqm8XTuG_9Mxyk8HuoXt8j7tul0HJcFldm9_dwAkfEQ/s200/IMG_6799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538762733822048562" border="0" /></a>Achnashellach Station in Glen Carron is a request stop on the line towards Skye. It appears to serve little in the way of foot traffic, but provides an ideal access point to the hills around Loch Monar. With a spring in our step we headed south to the first great obstacle. <span style="color:black;">Note to following parties – we thought that fording the River Carron was possible at the point that the crow would fly, or alternatively, that the footbridge upstream at Craig would still exist to allow our safe and dry passage. We were wrong, twice. Thus, </span>two hours later than planned we finally gained the footpath up through Achnashellach Forest, meandered heavily below Carn Mor and sweated up over the steeper slope of Aon Cheum. Dutch Rob in particular struggling having foolishly agreed to carry the weekend’s supply of fuel. Us, we remained quiet and deferred to injuries of old. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">From the top plateau, the first views of the next days’ itinerary revealed a covering of light snow above 700 metres and the first fleeting glimpses of some blue sky above. More immediately, the gentle descent path was located amongst the lochan and we followed the steep-sided stream to the bothy on the valley floor below.</p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHshAz5JT9hdAl1eYwm5f_V11OoLfhwaKCmruAPLzNIiIE78FLl5CwVfSCwzIjk-KINwj14CabSIKklg6SgNTGdCbajh-Av6BQHyKHjtgDFMndHU5JebXy1aw2PxkX0LhdJZ1_d5tXig0/s1600/IMG_6850.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHshAz5JT9hdAl1eYwm5f_V11OoLfhwaKCmruAPLzNIiIE78FLl5CwVfSCwzIjk-KINwj14CabSIKklg6SgNTGdCbajh-Av6BQHyKHjtgDFMndHU5JebXy1aw2PxkX0LhdJZ1_d5tXig0/s200/IMG_6850.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538758932909543954" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Apparently Bearnais was once considered the coldest bothy in the land. Instead, we found a warm, welcoming, wood-panelled and immaculately tidy place that with some logs in the burner and a brew on the go soon became our home in the hills. Conversations and reminiscences flowed as we waited for company, but nobody came and we were left alone to the joy of shared provisions and a peaceful early night.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The next day broke to a calm sky with a hint of late autumn sunshine. Much excitement too with Dutch Rob’s discovery that, according to the bothy book, roughly a quarter of recent visitors hailed from his motherland – the reasons for which we pondered as we burnt off our breakfast of oats across the flanks of a nameless hillside to gain the crest of the path at the head of Bealach an Sgoltaidh. There, a wall of indistinct purpose points the way to the steep zigzagging path through the two-tiered north face of Bidein a Choire Sheasgaich. But with the instructions of a better half still ringing in my ears, the intended scramble ascent was soon abandoned due to thick coatings of ice in inconvenient places and we opted instead for a path of least consequences to gain the summit for an early lunch and views of coffee-table book proportions.</p>Onwards we went, descending to the saddle and climbing the broad slopes of Lurg Mhor. However, the ice made the traverse towards Meall Mor a little more awkward than some group members could stomach and so, at the chilly shadows of the final exposed step, fear overcame valour and an alternative route was found. This took us down to the shores of Loch Calavie and the sanctuary of the clearly defined and sun-bathed footpath towards Bendronaig Lodge, veering on to Loch an Laoigh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5djMbCU8JmoQrVpcG7Y9cRltJ_eOvRDusp0_3NvUiT-JvwWD95SKaTSL6Jis7shqB7n1AlZINWDDcdA0KfEejmZstx1r5PECRWMFBcR46H4zh_V1BaeUgsTxlBLiRZLnlPXipz3Wjds/s1600/Blogspot+1.gif"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5djMbCU8JmoQrVpcG7Y9cRltJ_eOvRDusp0_3NvUiT-JvwWD95SKaTSL6Jis7shqB7n1AlZINWDDcdA0KfEejmZstx1r5PECRWMFBcR46H4zh_V1BaeUgsTxlBLiRZLnlPXipz3Wjds/s400/Blogspot+1.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538758127807561666" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">As the light faded, we bowed our heads to the laws of fate whose wisdom in curtailing our summit push a few hours earlier had better judged the tiredness in our limbs. We slipped, slithered and hopped across the flat boggy lands to the still silent and empty Bearnais bothy for a peaceful night of dice games and cheap corner shop whisky.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday arrived late in the warmth of our sleeping bags, but still without a soul in sight, we bade farewell to Bearnais with promises to return. Following the footpath heading southwest, we steadily climbed to reach the anonymous pass offering stunning views across to Torridon and Skye. At the waterfalls of Eas na Creige Duibhe Moire, we ambled on, hearing but not seeing in a shameful haste to cover the distance quickly. At Achintree it is only a short walk back to the station at Strathcarron from where the return journey could be made. However we’d planned another night in Lochcarron, where the adventure continued, but one of less glorious a story than should grace these pages.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Top tips for long-distance train travel</span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Daily sleeper train services travel to and from many destinations in Scotland. The cheapest train tickets are those booked in advance, with a limited number of tickets available from £19 each way on the <a href="http://www.travelpass.buytickets.scotrail.co.uk/BargainBerths/Default.aspx">Scotrail ‘Bargain Berths’ website</a>. Tickets normally go on sale about nine weeks in advance. Even if the cheap tickets have sold out, you can book a reclining seat for the night and your journey remains cheap. Although you’ll have to do without the joys of the buffet car and a morning coffee in bed…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is a copy of an article soon to be published in the newsletter of the <a href="http://www.mountainbothies.org.uk/">Mountain Bothy Association</a>.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Words and pictures by Gary Shipp.<br /></p>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-75539231186251162412010-10-18T13:35:00.000-07:002010-10-18T14:21:24.257-07:00Looping around London<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 306px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529497005918261826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5x6nK1WrdO5alp4143m62dpq2qIcH03fFbusnR-LKWRr3uvL9O2t0oPcNBYghpRzCLBj4dc0tB7cx68MfBryLjaRIw6howi7wVuUTW5zfL-7H5QIKJfQqVHtNgUp7XHUF56ZakzNPOus/s320/RIMG2900.JPG" />Walking boots, check. Scarf and woolly hat, check. Oyster card, check. Swipe card for work ... I'll leave that one behind today. It feels odd donning waterproofs on a weekday morning, but the occasional midweek day off is one advantage of working shifts. I decided to take advantage of the (admittedly weak) autumn sunshine to try out a car-free walk in London, ideal with its extensive public transport network.<br /><br />A friend recommended the Pymmes Brook Trail but it was just a little too urban for me (and goes right past my house) so we decided to brave the world beyond zone three and devise my own walk, taking in part of the London Loop. As a nearby urban walk, it was also a good opportunity to test out what kit I really need, in preparation for more arduous routes where the nearest chemist is more than half a mile away. Compass, plasters, water and cash are always essentials; a good book and a banana protector are perhaps urban luxuries.<br /><div><div><br />The familiar walk to the tube felt different, not just because we were wearing boots rather than smart shoes. It was the prelude to a day of fresh air and adventure, rather than another day in the office.<br /><br />Cockfosters Station raises a titter among more juvenile Londoners, and has been doing so since the 16th century. The name possibly derives from cock breeding in the area, or that it was once the home of the chief, or cock, forester. The train was littered with discarded Metro newpapers, but instead my required reading today was OS173, which covers North London. Cockfosters wasn't the only name on the map to raise a smile; we also enjoyed the hilarious Ferny Hill, Rough Lot, Cuckolds Hill, and Noddin's Well, to which the response must be 'Really? I didn't know he was ill'.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXthgfk1XtebWZIpj-ou2cAKO8k3oBflv-QAz694HXCrvcQ7sl4fneDmUl0hpzuR4uYL9jmnxqPDVtErTengsnAEb3_HHxbKr7yd45OWOSH_rJnlF2zwxM9NHBbOKHfnYCBQhvgcjTkk/s1600/RIMG2908.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529497487016805554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXthgfk1XtebWZIpj-ou2cAKO8k3oBflv-QAz694HXCrvcQ7sl4fneDmUl0hpzuR4uYL9jmnxqPDVtErTengsnAEb3_HHxbKr7yd45OWOSH_rJnlF2zwxM9NHBbOKHfnYCBQhvgcjTkk/s320/RIMG2908.JPG" /></a><br />The route began in the inauspicious surrounds of Cockfosters tube station cark park, and we'd gone barely 10 metres before the map and the compass were out of the 'essentials' list, for urban walks at least. The problem is the number of signs, buildings and landmarks, making it impossible to head west for 100m without walking into a wall. (For the record, turn right out of Cockfosters tube into the car park. There's a green gate on the left signposted 'London Loop', which takes you on to a path that circumvents the cemetery.)<br /><br />Luckily, we were soon in open fields, woods and parkland, with the distant hum of the M25 largely drowned out by the cawing of crows, jays and magpies. While not the most exotic of species, it was a treat to see a variety of wildlife so close to my urban home, including wood pigeons, grey squirrels, rabbits, green woodpeckers, a crow the size of a chicken, great tits, a flock of starlings, a grey heron and three cock pheasants during the walk.<br /><br />Passing an impressive, though deserted, children's playground on the right, we crossed into Trent Country Park. Stopping at the entrance cafe for a sneaky slice of carrot cake - another lesson learned for trickier walks: eat breakfast first - we then continued along the London Loop. It is no doubt busy at weekends, but we had it largely to ourselves this Wednesday.<br /><br />Passing lakes on the right, home to herons and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhErOHCpe_USRXtk7iSSRQMRkFyEzZ7fZZDJs3zQwoAuYqmy93RugaiYzhnN3BXLtVejwYQVHG0zU0BuvpuIiAzEAjz-dIL3TaVL2ImiJHm03cH1zljkwX7LCqq20loNI2207T2RmYBk9Q/s1600/RIMG2929.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529498002554811122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhErOHCpe_USRXtk7iSSRQMRkFyEzZ7fZZDJs3zQwoAuYqmy93RugaiYzhnN3BXLtVejwYQVHG0zU0BuvpuIiAzEAjz-dIL3TaVL2ImiJHm03cH1zljkwX7LCqq20loNI2207T2RmYBk9Q/s320/RIMG2929.JPG" /></a>ducks, we began the gentle climb up Camlet Hill. We made a slight detour north to see Camlet Moat, a 15th century island with a shallow moat where a drawbridge and weaponry dating from Roman times have been found. It's reputedly haunted, and is certainly eerie, not least because the algae covering the water makes the moat look like a road, and it would be easy to succumb to the water's depths on a dark night. The woodland surrounding the moat is rich in toadstools, including the fly agaric, easily recognisable to Noddy fans as Big Ears' home. We saw at least 10 varieties, enough for Noddy and Big Ears to climb the mushroom property ladder.<br /><br />On exiting the wood, the path follows Salmon's Brook. The water still flows but is too shallow to harbour much in the way of fresh fish these days. The London Loop continues up Cuckolds Hill, but we took a detour north on a footpath alongside deeply ploughed fields to the Robin Hood in Botany Bay, a McMullens venue. More of a dining room than a pub, it was nonetheless homely and serves food from noon, making it a great spot for a late lunch (the carrot cake had long since worn off). It serves pub classics, plus a large chargrill and fish menu, platters to share and at least three hot vegetarian choices.<br /><br />The Ridgeway which leads out of Botany Bay towards the outskirts of Enfield is the least attractive aspect of the walk, (nb you can catch bus 313 here to and from Potters Bar) as the road is busy, picking up the traffic turning into London from the M25 and the North Circular. But the ridge provides good views, with the television mast at Alexandra Palace and even the towers of Canary Wharf clearly visible to the south.<br /><br />The road dips and climbs, and just beyond the Royal Chase hotel we rejoined the marked path, which heads north to Rectory Farm, home to some timid bullocks and friendly horses, and the red house, then under a railway bridge. You can extend the walk by heading north from St Johns church, but instead we opted for a leisurely pint in the quiet but welcoming Fallow Buck, and were treated by a couple of jays noisily flapping about in the trees opposite. We meandered through the estates to Gordon Hill train station for a short ride home, pitying the commuters surging out of London in the opposite direction. Pubs, walking and some urban wildlife - a perfect London day off.</div><div> </div><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529498567749856834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8J9z09BzPjQ2JMo9K3RWqv-tvVg0sixdZKNmWDNLiPoFAqUa5neNI_20K4dMDcdaA8JBat-h08HmxYHcmmvDnQlPdYaW323xR4JKpb01XHq-bSFukDnaBi5VvZzW_HzEZiTTQMn2Nu4/s320/RIMG2938.JPG" /><em>Words and picture by Penny Woods<br /></em><div></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-19855984108162703732010-07-22T07:50:00.000-07:002010-07-22T08:10:59.204-07:00<strong>What’s on the rocks?</strong><br /><br />Four miles of road walking. Doesn’t sound a great day out, but I’m not the only one trudging the tarmac along the Arisaig coast road. At each small bay and cove, people with cameras and binoculars peer expectantly out to sea. And with good reason … this is one of the UK’s otter hotspots.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/Scotlandwestcoast"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745530307676402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCU9N9_MWDG5k8SHurxI-QDUtESgFItuiZZGEhctNkzlR2LcLIqcu74cmxiQVI5CySZ0Ab5lGzFJ_N6ThvZLuSYj3RIFO8xwVkiN440j7MneMdrN1vxxafAArZGO2oUJZemRcNHT9dWo/s320/IMG_1364.JPG" /></a>The sun is shining – particularly fiercely for a Scottish May – and the sea lochs are shimmering, bright against the peaty brown headlands and islands. It’s a particularly fine stretch of coast, even set within the fierce competition of the west coast. And the tourists are flocking to this corner of the country – business in Mallaig has apparently boomed since the West Highland Railway started promoting day trips to the town from Fort William. The train journey through the highlands is rightly the major attraction, and with ninety minutes to kill in Mallaig (no easy task, I can tell you) they pack into the tea rooms and pubs.<br /><br />After an hour of waiting, it’s clear the otters aren’t playing ball. Flask empty, newspaper fully browsed, I set off along the coast road again. At Millburn Cottage, I cross the stile and head along the deer tracks to Cruach Doire an Dobhrain, the high point of the Arisaig peninsula.<br /><br />As summits go, it’s pretty modest – 103m. But the ground is rough going, with no tracks and plenty of heather. After an appreciative gaze at the Rois-Bhein hills to the south, and Rum and Eigg out at sea, I pick my way through the knee-high heather towards the coast, and the peninsula’s more reliable attraction – the remote bay of Port nam Murrach.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/Scotlandwestcoast"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745519450968754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM06j-_OUyJjkSZWx6mG-KoC70HkBh6u03MbFBmD-grDyrax1HOTMedy7Quz6M-cZgCNd0vYCEJodniX1ypYpLxNWCkaY3sQFKdnuH9pP53CcMl2zHZ1TUkDIHGND3ng9MP8cDbEb1WB8/s320/IMG_1354.JPG" /></a>If this striking bay was on England’s south coast, it would have the full works – pubs, tea rooms, gift shops, overflowing car parks. Fortunately, it’s 40 minutes away from the nearest parking spot, which seems to be sufficient to keep most people away. Revelling in the solitude, I lie back on the sand and doze for an hour as the waves lap against the surrounding rocks. Balls to otters, this is the only way to spend a treasured sunny day in Scotland.<br /><br />Returning via the cow-created track past Rhue Cottage, I get my wildlife spotter’s badge for the day – a buzzard circling over Cruach Doire an Dobhrain, with lapwings bobbling about in the nearby field. Heading back along the coastal road, several otter-spotters are still patiently sat by the shore; but for the furry beats are still proving elusive. I head past them towards my tent in Keppoch, via the restorative comforts of the café in Arisaig.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SiK2itePkR5j6LOhUlbX3RYRPyK6JWjqty0jMREHjX27B-GXD44r23RTg_H_4BzkO9ywmaFFiEW4fD9_haT1toLFumLCufCZuZc9SPC6v70X7B438bNeWs6qNdzcliAGA_27Q4EqJOU/s1600/IMG_1359.JPG"></a>Even in May, Scottish evenings are long, and for those under canvas there’s little chance of sleep much before 11pm. But a long evening is no hardship when my campsite overlooks the islands of Skye and Rum. With the scarlet sun setting behind them, they looked perfect. If I was a Tweeter, I could have made lots of people envious at once, but as it was, I made do with a few texts before heading for the tent and the stove. <div><div><div><div><br /></div><a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/Scotlandwestcoast"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496746860165277490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yTQp1FSjDbVfyytRsIYpt1a5HCMpaAR_1NAjw9WS5iJN5hs_XOHyeIsUn4d0itJ7ZMPWkmOFYjWPLOx7LwE3Z2AgnuD67OaDiMWatrP6E297GoneR2ttt0TAj6gdse-XT8jiJtq0kIU/s320/IMG_1329.JPG" /></a><strong>Eat and drink</strong><br />Various cafes in Arisaig (although based on my experience, I would avoid the Rhu café). There’s also a small supermarket.<br /><br /><strong>Sleep</strong><br />several campsites around Keppoch – take the track past Keppoch house just north of Arisaig and follow the coast around to the campsites.<br /><br /><strong>Getting there</strong><br />Trains between Fort William and Mallaig stop at Arisaig, ten minutes from the village centre. There are also local buses that call at Arisaig. <div></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Words and photos by Tim</span></em> </div></div></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-86965475924016365852010-05-01T06:52:00.001-07:002010-05-01T07:04:39.541-07:00Getting away from them allI go walking to get away from other people. Not completely – a cheery ‘hello’ is always welcome, as is a good walking partner (i.e. one who doesn’t talk too much) – but, like many walkers, I want to avoid the crowds. I want to ‘get away from it all’, ‘head off the beaten track’ and other such clichés.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7Dv2yhZ2RULI6f6CWlhQi1kvCvM-1MdhVQ8t8l2MU0Lkw_Os_N0VCyoKBRIm1pFv6pZMW3sydsfMlhetZGLrgqcOoYx5s6wNOLKxszjDks1Yw3voKClKpWm-xIlQFs3dQ3ACMZ004og/s1600/Howgills+077.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466300754170280466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7Dv2yhZ2RULI6f6CWlhQi1kvCvM-1MdhVQ8t8l2MU0Lkw_Os_N0VCyoKBRIm1pFv6pZMW3sydsfMlhetZGLrgqcOoYx5s6wNOLKxszjDks1Yw3voKClKpWm-xIlQFs3dQ3ACMZ004og/s320/Howgills+077.jpg" /></a>The problem is that walking is too damn popular these days. Everyone’s at it – old, young, fat, thin, Duke of Edinburgh groups, Ramblers, people trying to get fit, groups raising money for some charity or another – and the great outdoors is taking on the characteristics of our busy day-to-day lives; noise, hustle, and even more bustle. I have seen walkers searching for a space to sit down at the top of Helvellyn, and (from a distance, fortunately) people queuing to go along Crib Goch – madness. I have even heard pub discussions about whether to limit numbers on popular hills – it works in New Zealand, after all. But how would that work – bouncers at Pen-y-Pass? 'Not going up in those boots, Sir.'<br /><br />It can be immensely frustrating, especially if, like me, you share that sense of entitlement found in many regular walkers – that these people really shouldn’t be there, that I was there first, and they should respect my privacy by finding a different pastime. But there are ways around this irritation.<br /><br />The first would be to try being a bit less antisocial. But let’s skip that one for now. An alternative is to pick more obscure, unknown hills. They can still be found, even in the Lakes or the Yorkshire Dales – you will rarely find a soul on Black Combe, for example. But then there’s a reason why peaks like Helvellyn are popular – it’s because they’re good, they’re dramatic, they offer the most exciting challenges. So it takes a bit of careful planning to get them to yourself.<br /><br />Setting off early afternoon is a pretty simple trick. Catch the last bus or train of the day to your hill of choice, and you’ll arrive just everyone else is heading home. I have had the unrivalled experience of enjoying the summit of Snowdon by myself, on a sunny summer weekend, without a soul about except for the crows and seagulls feasting on the remnants of 1001 packed lunches. Heading up at 3pm, I passed the many hundreds of walkers, oozing down the Pyg Tr<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEtOusrr70UAQEWbUkLgZ4fS4mRw-oF9_QcUWZ_XOHTjMJnu-ENiBvL0x0ZO263b-sB_3P3B9fSJFi5rL6EFo2ymd52MUMShnQpD1XPau0BlA2zxISryIunXRLKSRI_nWssnPXHKC2gEY/s1600/Howgills+081.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466301771418537890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEtOusrr70UAQEWbUkLgZ4fS4mRw-oF9_QcUWZ_XOHTjMJnu-ENiBvL0x0ZO263b-sB_3P3B9fSJFi5rL6EFo2ymd52MUMShnQpD1XPau0BlA2zxISryIunXRLKSRI_nWssnPXHKC2gEY/s320/Howgills+081.jpg" /></a>ack and Miner’s Track like treacle, with only a few curious glances for my troubles. By the time I reached the western edge of Glaslyn, they had all vanished. Perfect.<br /><br />On a mountain like Snowdon, with clear tracks to follow, it’s easy to plan for the walk down in fading evening light. Another way, and useful for trickier summits, is to camp out wild in the hills. This has the added advantage of getting them to yourself again the next morning, before the hordes begin their march. Nothing beats a cup of tea brewed as the sun goes down behind your favourite peak, when there’s not a sound apart from the gentle crash of a stream or the birds overhead. So if you can’t beat them, avoid them – it’s not always as hard as it seems.<br /><br /><br />Posted by TimTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-62173039635375584232010-02-25T11:32:00.000-08:002010-11-12T12:33:58.949-08:00A Scottish winter wonderland<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5WQdzeV6kNx3s27EWGUNoQHRpecXgqchuxgxss2nv5QxEDkaNxjqhNOvjB3w4T9Tu1sOpEzQj4JPnXmdQbwgWz4gV1BSuvu5p6vf14DMI1_Lb7hMV372Cu0V4V0hE3iS-DbEd7l9oh8/s1600-h/IMG_9761+%28Custom%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px; float: right; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442269216619171058" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih5WQdzeV6kNx3s27EWGUNoQHRpecXgqchuxgxss2nv5QxEDkaNxjqhNOvjB3w4T9Tu1sOpEzQj4JPnXmdQbwgWz4gV1BSuvu5p6vf14DMI1_Lb7hMV372Cu0V4V0hE3iS-DbEd7l9oh8/s320/IMG_9761+%28Custom%29.jpg" border="0" /></a>During the winter months in Scotland, the weather can change hourly and only a fool would pre-empt the forecast more than a day in advance. However, on this occasion, good luck was the reward for some advanced planning and the three of us were provided with some of the best mountain days ever experienced. Our adventure took place over three days, journeying where our curiosity, heavy packs and the avalanche warnings would allow.<br /><br />Starting from Corrour Station, we passed the shores of Loch Treig to the valley of Allt na Lairige and an overnight stay in the bothy at the foot of Stob Coire ne Ceannaine. A sharp frost left us languishing in our bunks a little later than planned, but we did at least surprise the locals passing by; they proclaimed their astonishment that southerners such as us had braved the plummeting overnight mercury!<br /><br />Departing after a warming breakfast of tea and packet porridge, it was not long before layers were shed due to the warming blue skies and the stiff climb to Stob Ban. From this lofty peak, we could view the stunning ridge above the Grey Corries and, confident that snow conditions would allow a safe passage, this was where we headed - an incredible traverse along the line between Stob Coire Leith and Stob Coire an Laoigh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaPdtgII_giHPdgF9OiRBg6IVO9znwKrRgPFno2CLb44s7RDKPkYmYM7d2G1VIxKFDAohU0k9jAEhe9xCKi3hCj5yz79Oae5_Tp9b93_xi4EWHg0XjPN2IhvaF6HbSxI9Pxj7P8NX0Gk/s1600-h/IMG_9812+%28Custom%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 320px; float: left; height: 240px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442282563161610610" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaPdtgII_giHPdgF9OiRBg6IVO9znwKrRgPFno2CLb44s7RDKPkYmYM7d2G1VIxKFDAohU0k9jAEhe9xCKi3hCj5yz79Oae5_Tp9b93_xi4EWHg0XjPN2IhvaF6HbSxI9Pxj7P8NX0Gk/s320/IMG_9812+%28Custom%29.jpg" border="0" /></a>Choosing our line of descent carefully, we dropped into the valley of Allt Coire Rath, under the watchful eyes of a large herd of deer. A tricky river crossing required caution under heavy loads and tired limbs as the day's walking finished along the frozen banks of Abhainn Rath. Our second, and much needed, night of rest was spent at Maennanach bothy.<br /><br />On paper, Day 3 could have been quite an undertaking - an 18km walk out along the length of Glen Nevis. However, with snow the consistency of caster sugar, walking was as effortless as one could hope for and under a cloudless sky of the deepest blue, we strolled through the valley, stopping occasionally to savour the silence and the most wonderful ice formations that lay on all sides.<br /><br />With a head count of only six other people encountered during the whole trip, it was a with a little regret that we emerged back into civilisation. The feeling was strong that we might never enjoy such good fortune as this for a while. But then, the sun always shines on the righteous . . .<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Getting there</span><br />The <a href="http://www.scotrail.co.uk/caledoniansleeper/index.html">overnight sleeper train</a> from Euston dropped us in the heart of the mountains at 9am. Our berths were £60 pp, booked in advance, though it is possible to get them cheaper via the <a href="http://www.travelpass.buytickets.scotrail.co.uk/BargainBerths/Default.aspx">Bargain Berths</a> website. Our return from Fort William was made during the day, dispersing to various parts of England's south coast for a little under £30. However, a turn-up-on-the-day ticket would have set us back close to five times that amount!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Where to sleep</span><br />If you don't know about them already, you really must join the <a href="http://www.mountainbothies.org.uk/">Mountain Bothy Association</a>. They take care of a wide variety of shelters in the upland areas of the UK, and rely on the support of their members (both financial and otherwise) to provide this fantastic resource. Prefering a softer bed and shower before the train journey home, we opted for a last night of comfort at <a href="http://www.syha.org.uk/hostels/highlands/glen_nevis.aspx">Glen Nevis YHA</a>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Staying safe</span><br />While the summer is midge season in Scotland, the winter hazard of avalanches is far, far greater. Before travelling into the mountains, be sure to get the latest updates from the <a href="http://www.sais.gov.uk/">Sport Scotland Avalanche information Service</a>.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Posting by Gary<br />Photo's by Matt</span> M<br /><br />You can view more images from the trip on our <a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Mountain/LochnagarareaofScotland">Visitor Review site.</a><br />For 100's more Car Free Walking routes in England, Scotland and Wales visit <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">www.carfreewalks.org</a>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-48462792277898563562010-02-05T02:17:00.000-08:002010-02-05T02:44:10.137-08:00<strong>The lost village of Imber<br /></strong><br />We had finalised our plans the night before, sat in front of a blazing fireplace. Up early next day, quick cup of tea, then boots on and straight up on to Salisbury Plain, a ten-mile stomp and back home mid-morning for breakfast. This schedule would allow us to enjoy Wiltshire’s vast chalk plateau in near solitude, before the hordes of walkers, cyclists and rangers arrived. Hopefully we would see plenty of the wildlife that abounds on the lush, undisturbed grasslands and copses.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Countryside/Imbervillage"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 310px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434704203662825986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_VY_Xevf5vWSLI2x1JE-MipgbFUhHtYnsOfyIXuYBIL4wCvSBbMePlGMy-C1pUSD9zdeQ4z33fC5Hi3GJos_hPiYkLoYgQkYUEABIop64AOo8CWZpr7B4N3XO0f5I9MdqJB-e9qHJTXY/s320/IMG_0323.JPG" /></a>Standing outside at 6am on a freezing January morning, the flaws in our plan became apparent. My caffeine requirement correlates sharply with how early I rise, and the one cup of tea so far (cup, mind, not mug, and a smallish one at that) had barely raised a flicker on my internal motor. Danny, my walking companion for the day and someone I have long suspected to be of a much sturdier ilk, was thriving in the early morning darkness. Dermot the dog has unbounded energy at any hour, especially when there are rabbits about. <div><div><div><br /><div>But our efforts paid off. Salisbury Plain is always a rewarding place for a walk, but it particularly inspiring at this early hour. The near-full moon shone brightly, illuminating the footpath, and the overhanging grasses tinkled as we crashed through their frost-covered seed heads. Soon we reached a barred gate that marks the perimeter of the army land. This is usually the point to turn left or right and head home via the outskirts of the plateau. But today, like a handful of other days each year, it marks the boundary of something a bit special. Our target was <a href="http://www.foreverimber.org.uk/index.php">Imber</a>, a deserted village right in the centre of Ministry of Defence land. They open it to the public for just a few days each year and this sense of something ‘forbidden’ makes it a popular trip.</div><br /><div></div><div></div><div><a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Countryside/Imbervillage"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 258px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434705273185546450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCvB1D26pENaqVWUeSPoPANfmeNM2KIViCFmYqUXrSrMJCxwsSK2SLFIRcd0kR54lJ1FeU98vH7bkl-pUsoNG0xa6oeL5VKzieliVbECVTNuUNwawe5De4pYO2V7zL6JAhXW4HCGbJ1_0/s320/IMG_0329.JPG" /></a>As we had hoped, there was not another soul about. The ghostly outlines of discarded tanks on the hills around provided a reminder of the current land use, but as the first red-brick building appeared, we were reminded that this lonely outpost was once a thriving farming community. The building was the pub, the focus of village life until 1943. In November that year, the MOD told residents they would have to leave so that visiting American troops could practice street fighting. The villagers made this wartime sacrifice with no complaint, perhaps due to a promise that they could return post-war. But to this day, the village is devoid of residents and still used for army training. The only building still functioning is the church of St Giles, which holds services on ‘open’ days. </div><div><br /><a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Countryside/Imbervillage"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 197px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 232px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434706132456866642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIlOVIVYW-5IEiRdcHJEiiMtVnLBn_h9UdcmTVyfFRzECant6lUvCNOHo09Hm0-yJ-r4jmh9-wY0jnYIpmhiS2KZvQ5tzgWAhdU8xPap7auADM2LgfvVhvVhEtpvOW7-qmIP1yb61aoq4/s320/IMG_0334.JPG" /></a>As we left the village, the preparations for a cycle race across the Plain were starting up, with the marshals putting out markers and generally making a lot of noise. We quickened our pace to keep ahead of them and avoid being coated in flying mud. A young deer family trotted briskly across the path in front of us; we stopped to watch them, only to have this scene of countryside idyll torn away by an expletive-laden instruction to, er, ‘go away’. Someone high up on the hillside had spotted the deer before us, and our disturbing presence had prevented a clean shot. Briefly, we considered exerting our right to be there; but he had one gun more than us. Argument settled. Comforted that we had, at least, spared the lives of the those gentle animals for another day, we hurried back to Edington for our sausages and bacon. </div><br /><div><strong>Getting there</strong></div><div>Buses run to Edington, a village on the northern side of Salisbury Plain. You can also reach Imber from Warminster, which has a train station.</div><div></div><br /><div><strong>When to go</strong></div><div>The outer parts of Salisbury Plain are accessible year-round, but Imber only on certain days around Christmas and New Year, Easter and the summer Bank Holidays. Check the <a href="http://www.foreverimber.org.uk/index.php">Forever Imber</a> website for more information.</div><div> </div><div>For more photos of this walk, visit the <a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Countryside/Imbervillage">Visitorreview</a> page for Car Free Walks.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em> </div></div></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-22733702671512935682010-02-03T02:46:00.000-08:002010-02-17T03:57:11.463-08:00Island walking<a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/IsleofWight2"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 293px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439178771643875570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholNCzksTZghc6hTXwzT_IbWCVBYxcBmfbXPV1tVRdyBRENm37i-W8livfYognMM8szH5jsHBdReYX5PbTJeJHAdAX5g1XsmSAVfy2JZndpebo0LdV0ZGWIocK9_4IvisAV3i5sL7lggE/s320/RIMG2555.JPG" /></a>The Isle of Wight is an ideal location for a car-free walk - its size means many interesting walks are easily reachable, and the remoteness of many locations and the island itself mean many of the island's inhabitants rely on the local bus and train services. The train runs along the eastern side of the island from Ryde to Shanklin, with converted tube carriages meandering along quite frequently. One company, Southern Vectis, runs the majority of the island's buses and they are quite reliable - except when it snows.<br /><br />Before setting off for a January break on the island, I was told by a family member that 'it never snows on the Isle of Wight'. As we arrived at our cottage at the start of the week, laden with a rucksack each and some emergency shopping, a fellow bus passenger told us about the last time it had snowed on the island - the 1970s. But no one had reckoned with the cold snap that hit the UK over the new year, and the Isle of Wight certainly didn't escape. The good thing about all the snow was that we couldn't have used a car even if we had wanted to, so the walks we had planned were solely reliant on boots, backpacks and the emergency shopping.<br /><br />Although unexpected, it was good to get some experience of snow walking as it is noticeably<a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/IsleofWight2"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 212px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439179180821592914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinQL8-dMb71YMFx6c6l7UvE8U6mc-c5mmBiYkAreFsCRtRr5JzI_-v6iSpF_D-erN5lyZ9VPngGWFAmqluPSnmVOc3I1FBT1pqq_9miRb4n8dA5ymH94ETTEbhxMwWYehf7swy6usQ98s/s200/RIMG2556.JPG" /></a> different to good weather trips. Progress is a lot slower than the average 3mph when you are walking through knee-deep drifts or negotiating downhill tracks with pockets of ice. So we had to plan accordingly, bearing in mind how early it gets dark, and take extra food and water. And torches. My wind-up bicycle lamp did the trick. The snow also made it harder to find the way, with many signposts coated in thick white and the terrain difficult to relate to the map - roads, tracks and fields all look pretty similar under a blanket of snow. Fortunately some gregarious locals had written signs in the snow - much appreciated.<br /><br />The Isle of Wight's climate is normally far more agreeable, offering excellent year-round walking, and even in January we noticed the temperate rising in the undercliff of St Lawrence on the southern side of the island, where the variety of plants and wildlife were still evident. A palm tree with its branches laden with snow is a peculiar sight in any part of the world.<br /><br />It is also a haven for birdwatching and perhaps some residents were feeling the chill beneath their feathers, because plenty were about searching for sustenance. In Niton, we saw flocks of redwings, ravens, black caps and a solitary pied wagtail. On the coast near St Catherine's lighthouse, a buzzard was circling; near the Ryde ferry terminal we spotted avocets and g<a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/IsleofWight2"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439179542590261730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqQsiXVn_PO_VsIdwO_Lsf6zIJXucCBXiHfMqw2GgdajcmrXQFRY-DjUS90ir1_M1UbYwRARdaEacJXeR3ytmBAg8Ts3IGcxZyjD54CXSbJJF9Teat5OZmsYagGYGwqPI_2loo2ZpBqQ/s320/RIMG2578.JPG" /></a>ulls. And there were plenty of more familiar names too - tits, blackbirds and thrushes.<br /><br />The Isle of Wight is a great learning ground for the novice walker, because of the pleasant temperate climate and the (usually) well-signposted routes. The excellent bus and train network make it ideal for the car-free walker. And the impressive number of pubs, accustomed to catering for people with a friendly welcome and pint of a local brew, make it perfect for all kinds of walker. <div><br /><div>By Penny Woods</div><div> </div><div>For more photos, visit Car Free Walk's <a href="http://www.visitorreview.com/carfreewalks/Coastal/IsleofWight2">photo gallery</a></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-83324982826724359952009-11-29T08:56:00.000-08:002009-12-06T02:15:36.797-08:00A pilgrimage to Trainspotting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggyTpdHhog62VhR-xaw9ylTvX1ZMQ1l2d1aLPcAM_p5FEa8-CFHYsY9ou3IWkhjxL9QHLkTUh_moRVm7FPHFUdO46PXnm12iVXD4ZNDtFw_yb-i7bZVhFSohrpx9Fj84IIcqFDm6CaZ0/s1600/corrour_4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px; float: left; height: 150px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409577273219029602" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggyTpdHhog62VhR-xaw9ylTvX1ZMQ1l2d1aLPcAM_p5FEa8-CFHYsY9ou3IWkhjxL9QHLkTUh_moRVm7FPHFUdO46PXnm12iVXD4ZNDtFw_yb-i7bZVhFSohrpx9Fj84IIcqFDm6CaZ0/s200/corrour_4.jpg" border="0" /></a>Corrour Station, on the northern edge of Rannoch Moor, lays claim as the highest station in the UK at over 1,300ft above sea level. Perhaps more famously, it also features in the film version of Irvine Welsh's bestseller 'Trainspotting', as the location where Renton, Spud, Sickboy and Tommy, in a more wholesome moment in their recreation, decide to go for a walk. As Tim's 8th favourite film ever, what a great place to follow in their film star footsteps, we thought.<br /><br />The benefits of a small bit of planning shone through as we succesfully met up on board the West Highland Railway train at Rannoch Station – Tim over from his new home in Germany, me (not so) fresh from the overnight journey on the <a href="http://www.scotrail.co.uk/caledoniansleeper/index.html">Caledonian Sleeper</a> from London. The sight of my friend, a died-in-the-wool (and some may say, mildly self-righteous) vegetarian, armed with a bacon sandwich and cup of tea, was almost enough to move my sleep-deprived eyes to tears.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGn2E-6qQ1XTIBYMnQwLFySFi67ZkUmvEbquwMNgXcQTXplf41ojLlPiEFk2hzAkaRqYYOOwUtxmZdru1hIqzg1V4d6xbRyEH2FcA4cjTutacMBLy9bqWCjv1rhWsGrKXy9adaIhYfnDo/s1600/corrour_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 240px; float: right; height: 320px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409589488664569826" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGn2E-6qQ1XTIBYMnQwLFySFi67ZkUmvEbquwMNgXcQTXplf41ojLlPiEFk2hzAkaRqYYOOwUtxmZdru1hIqzg1V4d6xbRyEH2FcA4cjTutacMBLy9bqWCjv1rhWsGrKXy9adaIhYfnDo/s320/corrour_3.jpg" border="0" /></a>As well as being the highest station in the UK, Corrour is also said to be the most remote, with the nearest public road-head being quite some distance away. As such, it's a prime location for the adventurous walker aiming to get away from the four-wheel dependent crowds. Being a weekday in mid September, we were two of only a handful to alight here, stepping out into blue skies and with joy in our hearts. As Welsh's character Tommy says, 'Doesn't it make you proud to be Scottish?'<br /><br />The weather forecast for the day had been noticably vague, so we had made no definite plans for the first of this two-day trip. But with a cloudless sky and only light winds, we hit upon a route over the hills to the bothy at Loch Ericht, returning to Loch Ossian Youth Hostel near Corrour for the following night.<br /><br />Heading east from the station, the access track to the hostel was a gentle start to the day and an opportunity to loosen the limbs after the last 12 hours spent aboard a train. Our first peak of the day was Carn Dearg, which at 941m offers an impressive vista in all directions, most notably back towards Ben Nevis and the Grey Corries. Tim claims that after lunching in the lee of a comfy rock, I stole a short snooze, something I appear to be making quite a habit of on these trips!<br /><br />Refreshed and revitalised, backpacks were slung across shoulders and we headed forth to ascend the twin peaks of Sgor Gaibhre and Sgor Choinnich, then on to Meall a Bhealaich, where I was reminded of the joys of the South West of England Coastal Path – the reality of travelling only a little horizontal distance forward on the map for considerable expenditure of energy. Maybe we were both lacking a bit of mountain fitness, or just getting a bit lazy after a busy summer, but we opted to divert away from the final planned peak of the day, Beinn a Chumhainn, and headed instead for the valley of Alder Burn and the footpath to <a href="http://www.mountainbothies.org.uk/">Ben Alder Cottage</a>. The night was spent there in comfort and warmth, the midges only a mild irritant that did little to distract from the beauty of the place. The stars were something to behold as they reflected off the water of the loch, and the bottle of whisky, nobly carried by me, led to a philosophical conversation and a solid sleep.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVhWTwt_GdrpyMafvTm7O6fF39aX3KaVzco4dOzUBVdrRQhchi8FY3TZjJ_m50CbtQ3cjBkSVntbOVQ-pODTaNwx-TZlP2K-WwPu5m7mA_apOy6t7x-wUfKAEJP400iuLmDsluvIJv74/s1600/corrour_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px; float: left; height: 150px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409613163946402786" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVhWTwt_GdrpyMafvTm7O6fF39aX3KaVzco4dOzUBVdrRQhchi8FY3TZjJ_m50CbtQ3cjBkSVntbOVQ-pODTaNwx-TZlP2K-WwPu5m7mA_apOy6t7x-wUfKAEJP400iuLmDsluvIJv74/s200/corrour_1.jpg" border="0" /></a>The next day dawned another fair one, and we set off at a good hour to attempt Ben Alder by way of Bealach Breabag and Sron Bealach Beithe. Disappointingly, the summits themselves were cloaked in a damp fog, so with little reason for hanging around we descended by the natural line of the mountain's western spur to find the path alongside Uisge Labhair. From here, the undulating path was surprisingly tiring as we headed downhill for several miles to Corrour Lodge. With weary limbs, the final miles around the banks of Loch Ossian were a challenge, and it was with relief and flagging energy levels that we arrived at our overnight accommodation.<br /><br />Our stay at the <a href="http://www.syha.org.uk/hostels/highlands/loch_ossian.aspx">YHA Loch Ossian</a> was a real pleasure. Our welcoming host made a good fire, and the guests for the evening made for entertaining conversation. A stunning sunset and a good night's sleep cleared the head, and with the spring returning to our step, we caught the mid-morning train back to civilization.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB-ut5wKlDJByaKpHZPHH7MdGs60grybezPA2IK4TYN-bsFKbS9qwBU9gMSQYBCb_Mpo2r3FHv1aA6ZGyIwrWEQbK7d63GmFLFS6GDhgP-5Gjy1RrUwtA2H1u2hskupQ-yzNwlN_HL5ok/s1600/corrour_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 230px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409616009762835602" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB-ut5wKlDJByaKpHZPHH7MdGs60grybezPA2IK4TYN-bsFKbS9qwBU9gMSQYBCb_Mpo2r3FHv1aA6ZGyIwrWEQbK7d63GmFLFS6GDhgP-5Gjy1RrUwtA2H1u2hskupQ-yzNwlN_HL5ok/s320/corrour_2.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Posting by Gary</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Photos by Tim</span>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-87578477335207545572009-08-12T07:49:00.000-07:002009-08-12T08:02:29.280-07:00The Keswick conundrum<div><div>Keswick presents problems for an indecisive walker. The town’s reputation as the hub of outdoors activity in the Lake District is well deserved. The giant peaks Skiddaw and Blencathra rise up to the north, provide a challenging day for anyone keen to scale the heights. To the southwest, the fells that circle the Newlands Valley form a classic horseshoe, while a stroll around Derwent Water will attract those looking for something more leisurely.<br /><div><br />This tempting array of possible routes spun around my head as the <a href="http://www.stagecoachbus.com/timetables/Service555556554from05April2009.pdf">555 bus</a> ambled through the Lakes. Being more familiar with the southern fells – the nearest during student days at Lancaster University – all the options were appealing. I was still undecided upon arrival at Keswick, but the imminent breaking of a fierce looking black cloud dictated that erecting the tent as swiftly as possible took priority.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvMoF1Mtox6pqUREePGo5UN7ju0uenZAmIZ-VFTDSlkB9B3xkDtIA-bGv80ZusNbu9hhqZ2_zYi5vr2kfQHzX11FQwVJy_i7stfeFqrs0WVY5z8U6aylh-0ouVZtFR16ConAYK6tuYCs/s1600-h/Howgills+091.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369090829140611378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvMoF1Mtox6pqUREePGo5UN7ju0uenZAmIZ-VFTDSlkB9B3xkDtIA-bGv80ZusNbu9hhqZ2_zYi5vr2kfQHzX11FQwVJy_i7stfeFqrs0WVY5z8U6aylh-0ouVZtFR16ConAYK6tuYCs/s320/Howgills+091.jpg" /></a>The tent was positioned to avoid the rapidly expanding puddles in the Keswick campsite, but the aspect unintentionally signalled the way forward next morning. The doors opened to reveal Cat Bells glistening brightly in the morning sun. Decision made; I set off to Portinscale and the start of the Newlands Round. A bus service runs from Keswick to the foot of Cat Bells during summer months, but it would have been a shame to miss the early morning sights, sounds and smells of Overside Woods, with the few remaining bluebells struggling to compete with the wild garlic.</div><br /><div>Cat Bells attracts the full spectrum of Lakeland walkers. Maybe it’s the easy access from Keswick, the relatively short climb, or just the indisputably cute name. Early on this overcast Sunday morning (the early rays long since departed) the carefully constructed zigzag path was rapidly filling up. Seven teenagers, heads down, rucksacks full, trudging silently in single file – they could only be a <a href="http://www.dofe.org/">Duke of Edinburgh</a> group, and the weary expressions and mud-splattered kit suggested they were at least three days into their expedition. Near the summit, two athletic looking men nodded a brief greeting as they hurried past, clearly heading for bigger challenges than humble Cat Bells can provide. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYMVTIth3oq3_aiEUZIXfmiBdNs6TOq1ftMGBBnBZBdGDBdO02qmsmEKE_Lo1_HLsLTNiTtNKg04hb0VfWIPUVEwG4vYH8sSAX3FsyDFFEuoGCAbYXAn6Qf6xB3iGEpZFsHpA4QkW5_Yk/s1600-h/Howgills+093.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 231px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369091282967519122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYMVTIth3oq3_aiEUZIXfmiBdNs6TOq1ftMGBBnBZBdGDBdO02qmsmEKE_Lo1_HLsLTNiTtNKg04hb0VfWIPUVEwG4vYH8sSAX3FsyDFFEuoGCAbYXAn6Qf6xB3iGEpZFsHpA4QkW5_Yk/s320/Howgills+093.jpg" /></a><br />On Maiden Moor, I found myself having a late breakfast of Babybels and an apple next to a Dutchman heading for Buttermere. As we chatted, he told me this was his first visit to the Lake District and he was clearly enthralled.<br />"We have nothing like this in Holland…just look at that view", he said, gesturing towards High Spy and Dale Head. </div><br /><div>By this time, the slate grey clouds were forming an angry mob over the summits, casting the landscape in a brooding, pallid light. I had seen the fells look more attractive, but it seemed a little churlish to quash his moment. Grinning wildly, he headed off into the murk and drizzle.</div><br /><div>The light waves on Derwent Water were catching the few rays of sun that sneaked through, shimmering brightly in contrast to the gloom ahead. Tiring of the constant buzz of human chatter, an incessant line of hikers on all sides, I decided to drop down and return to Keswick via the lakeside. The map showed a clear path down between Maiden Moor and High Spy, so I took a bearing and veered off from the crowds heading onwards. </div><br /><div>It felt good to be alone, a sense of rebelling against the masses – similar to playing truant from school. The walking clichés all applied – choose your own adventure, get off the beaten track, go against the flow – the experience many walkers crave. This preoccupied elation almost proved disastrous. </div><div><br />As I headed over the edge of Blea Crag, the valley scene attracted my attention, rather than the ground below. Instead of heading down Low White Rake, I found myself halfway down Nitting Haws, trapped on a narrow, exposed and slippery ledge. A bulging rucksack prevented an easy about-turn and scamper back up, and the free-spirited sensations of a few minutes ago quickly dispersed; solitude was now the last thing I wanted. </div><br /><div>It took several anxious minutes, a Chaucerian selection of curses, and scrambling moves that you won’t find in any training manuals to get to the safe ground near Cockley How. Looking back, the obvious scramble down the rake was clear about 10 meters to the right; its taunting simplicity a stark contrast to the precarious drop I had been scrabbling above.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCUFCxArtfGtBndbceJMEmCAyCbc-Ytq1snv7B04PWTbQSjziOEGoX0cSXsyt91XXYocyrXCr_qDgJZslZuEkGFIoR5lMWTW6ttYk4qsyzQYicrsjBIn-cZ1FQQe2MfaP5emDAkzWDVwg/s1600-h/Howgills+092.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369091280696473938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCUFCxArtfGtBndbceJMEmCAyCbc-Ytq1snv7B04PWTbQSjziOEGoX0cSXsyt91XXYocyrXCr_qDgJZslZuEkGFIoR5lMWTW6ttYk4qsyzQYicrsjBIn-cZ1FQQe2MfaP5emDAkzWDVwg/s320/Howgills+092.jpg" /></a><br />Mushroom soup was required to calm frazzled nerves and as the pan bubbled slowly, I looked over towards Skiddaw and Blencathra, both bathed in sunlight. Would I have had a more satisfying day there? Or on Castlerigg Fell, radiant in the midday sun across Derwent Water? Perhaps, but that’s the thing about Keswick – the wonderful array of options provides the perfect reason to return, again and again.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Posted by Carfreewalker</em></span></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Photos by me as well</span></em></div><div> </div><div> </div></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-91557342923594314502009-06-10T07:30:00.000-07:002009-06-10T07:54:24.472-07:00Going to walk on an eggA fried egg sandwich with a cup of tea is a welcome snack at any time. As an unscheduled breakfast before venturing into a thunder storm for two days, it assumes previously unknown qualities – comforting, motivational and warming – not to mention a boost of caffeine and grease, those two staples of the UK diet.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKS3fKjwJ8XgpLdGemcW4gHJsb-2nk6A0OwSG0wWJLOvfeVWmCGT4VEUxOkbMXUsu6U7Jp_XinJQtW-BsXuQnMvfi_2UMFMubnJrg6ujaXzX374FB5nCPlrS87NMy4qUwvieV8Z9wZepE/s1600-h/Howgills+065.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXZw8HWG31uoEDdv9X_hCyLTJiY64oSAk4UBJDZjDhyEsGous6Nz16vduFe26AmEYuR1rclG0yy3F1G5GskGWTL0mPc7D27UwwLq3_fczaCNV_ISoXkWYMYKXVxNBGUIPmV7jzZpqb_g/s1600-h/Howgills+065.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345711068674100642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 287px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxXZw8HWG31uoEDdv9X_hCyLTJiY64oSAk4UBJDZjDhyEsGous6Nz16vduFe26AmEYuR1rclG0yy3F1G5GskGWTL0mPc7D27UwwLq3_fczaCNV_ISoXkWYMYKXVxNBGUIPmV7jzZpqb_g/s320/Howgills+065.jpg" border="0" /></a>Our expedition to walk across the <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/walks/290/across_the_howgills_-_ravenstonedale_to_sedburgh">Howgill Fells</a> had suffered from an inauspicious start. Gary had managed less than two hours sleep on the overnight train to Carlisle, thanks to the snoring passenger in his carriage. The bus that was supposed to take us from Kirkby Stephen to Ravenstondale had sped past – the driver oblivious to our frantic hand gestures – meaning an unwelcome trudge next to the busy A685 at 7am. Dark grey clouds were swirling overhead; an ominous sign that the unpleasant forecast was likely to be correct for once.<br /><br />Trying to delay the inevitable soaking, we wandered into the <a href="http://www.blackswanhotel.com/index.htm">Black Swan Hotel</a> in search of some comfort. Their delicious egg sandwiches rescued the trip from being abandoned in favour of two days in the pub, and all for a bargain three pounds each.<br /><br /><div></div><div>After draining the last drops from the teapot, we set off through Ravenstondale, which sits on the northern edge of the Howgill Fells. The day’s route was undecided, with no particular summit or ridge in mind. All we had planned was to ramble through territory unknown to us both until we found a suitable place to wild camp. The following day, we would complete whatever distance remained to Sedbergh, located on the southern side.<br /><br />This approach to walking makes a refreshing change from a fixation on one mountainous target, or having to be back by a certain time for the bus. No rush, no pressure and time to enjoy the beautiful surroundings of the Howgills.<br /><br />You have probably seen these steep, tussocky hills, even if you didn’t realise it. Anyone travelling to Penrith from the south will have noticed them sloping away to the right, opposite the more dramatic skyline of the Lake District. These fells are often overlooked in favour of their illustrious neighbours to the west, but this is to their benefit. They are much quieter, unscarred by a criss-cross of ever widening footpaths and, in the central valleys, offer a sense of solitude that is hard to find in the Lakes.<br /><br />Fortunately, the forecast rain didn’t arrive until we reached The Calf, the highest point in the Howgills at 676 metres. Despite it being just past lunchtime, we decided to head for Bran Rigg to camp for the night – an afternoon doze suddenly seemed very appealing, with the rain getting heavier by the minute. A flattish hollow next to the small stream looked promising, with views down the valley to Castley and Crook of Lune – at least when the rain stopped for very brief interludes. The three dead sheep just upstream didn’t deter us – it was the only space large enough for two tents in this steep sided, v-shaped valley, and neither of us wanted to walk any further that day.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaGdiaZn5yS6Y4T0TXlsFy41wpShEK2yenjvs7YHN9wQrZ_bDCQNQZZ7jKCLUwx-xKsRHL8-mDND7W1nKcBqJ1fnIo3R9zfIm23FWB73GRcFC_0uXeK2d-qM81QaNlq4bawmzrFOew78/s1600-h/Howgills+077.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345710650807668274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaGdiaZn5yS6Y4T0TXlsFy41wpShEK2yenjvs7YHN9wQrZ_bDCQNQZZ7jKCLUwx-xKsRHL8-mDND7W1nKcBqJ1fnIo3R9zfIm23FWB73GRcFC_0uXeK2d-qM81QaNlq4bawmzrFOew78/s320/Howgills+077.jpg" border="0" /></a>The bright sunshine next morning lasted long enough for us to take down the tents and have breakfast. By the time we reached the top of Brant Fell, however, the clouds had settled in for the day, making themselves comfortable on the rounded plateau between Arant Haw and The Calf. Heads down, we moved swiftly to the top of <a href="http://www.english-lakes.com/cautley_spout.html">Cautley Spout</a>, the highest waterfall above ground in the UK (<a href="http://www.bpc-cave.org.uk/gaping_gill.htm">Gaping Gill</a> is bigger, but in a cave). This is one of the highlights of a trip to the Howgills; the path down sits alongside the series of falls, and the best viewpoints marked by the worn-away patches of grass where previous admirers have tried to capture the perfect photo. </div><br /><div><div><div><div>The sun returned for the final stretch, along the valley from Cautley to Sedbergh. The warming rays lifted the scent of wild garlic into the woodland air, and wild gorse coloured the fields stretching up towards the Howgills. The contrast with the walk in to Ravenstonedale couldn’t have been starker – or maybe the warm, feel-good glow of the egg sandwiches was still working its magic. They really were that good.</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345711915164427074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgem-uiUSpp4I1RBoAtqSZy870hfAqij7v_ww1UB36W2eJGiwCqiz8c-kDkLh0VkfjDaUnllxY8NnJskVhICZAELAg6z5OuD9bx_WVk9oj7ADCaXjLJpbFu6yFx43kBoxgMgnmaj72M4Co/s320/Howgills+088.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><strong><em>Getting there</em></strong><br />Kirkby Stephen Station is on the <a href="http://www.settle-carlisle.co.uk/">Leeds-Carlisle</a> line, and there are occasional buses to Ravenstonedale (when they stop!). Sedbergh is served by many buses to all nearby towns and several villages. There are regular buses back to Kirkby Stephen to get a train home.</div><div><strong><em></em></strong> </div><div><strong><em>Where to eat, drink, sleep</em></strong></div><div>There's nowhere that near Kirkby Stephen Station, but the <a href="http://www.blackswanhotel.com/index.htm">Black Swan Hotel</a> in Ravenstonedale offers a very warm welcome. Sedbergh has a wide selection of <a href="http://www.sedbergh.org.uk/accommodation/">accommodation</a> and places to <a href="http://www.sedbergh.org.uk/shops/eat-drink.html">eat, drink</a> and be tired.</div><br /><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Photos by Tim and Gary, using Laura's camera</span></em></div></div></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-21913754573824714442009-03-08T23:46:00.000-07:002009-04-22T04:14:06.270-07:00Falling for the South DownsThe Devil’s Dyke, on a sunny Saturday morning in May, is probably not the best introduction to the South Downs. People sit impatiently in their cars on the approach road, waiting for a free spot in the vast concrete car park. Ice cream vans, motorbikes and squawking children drown out any sounds of nature, although the wildlife undoubtedly knows to leaves early. This was my first experience of the South Downs, and it left me distinctly underwhelmed – was it really set to become our newest National Park?<br /><br />Ditchling Beacon, the second attempt at some peace in the countryside, was not much better. A smaller car park, but this only seemed to make those queuing to get in more frustrated. Several people who had made it were indulging in that peculiarly British pastime, the in-car picnic. Why sit outside in the sunshine when you can gaze at the view through your windscreen? And all this weekend disturbance could easily be avoided; both of these popular spots are well served by <a href="http://buses.co.uk/trips/breeze.aspx">buses</a> from Brighton.<br /><br />This was not what I was hoping for from my new walking playground. Before reluctantly moving to Brighton, I had spent nine months in Aberfoyle, near Scotland’s Trossachs, with the ever-changing views of Ben Lomond to cherish each morning. This was followed by a year in Lancaster, with its easy access to the Lakes and Yorkshire Dales. A humble line of chalky hills, spluttering to a high point of 280m, offered little potential excitement. There’s no doubt about it; I was pining for these places, and the South Downs were bearing the brunt.<br /><br />But I am not the type to nurture a grievance after the eighteenth heartfelt rant. Joining the local Duke of Edinburgh’s Award group as a leader meant regular weekends in the Downs, discovering new places and unexpected delights: Beachy Head, with its dramatic, plunging cliffs; the glorious Arun Valley and its varied birdlife; Cuckmere Haven, perfect for (outdoor) picnics, and the nearby Friston Forest. Maybe not household names, but they carry the same importance to local people as the more exalted walking regions to the north.<br /><br />The South Downs has another advantage over some of these regions; every section of its 100 miles is accessible without a car. The towns and villages that nestle either side of the ridge are almost all well served with buses or trains. This includes locally run, walker-friendly services such as the <a href="http://www.cuckmerebus.freeuk.com/">Cuckmere Community Bus</a>. This multitude of start and finish points, combined with the geography of the Downs, makes it ideal for linear car-free walks; start at one village, up onto the ridge, then down again once you’re done for the day. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQo-oHTeHus5aPU0jP9f2r7TZAYLvBAb0M6u0egG3siJx2sJA30utnzYMmiZw8gaomRDa0mAi304AkrYZSS015IFmObpmROsLRVzElkF4fyJg0a-Gr17X2xmVEFcdie39zRE0Ts4sDauQ/s1600-h/IMG_3649.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311078158377700578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQo-oHTeHus5aPU0jP9f2r7TZAYLvBAb0M6u0egG3siJx2sJA30utnzYMmiZw8gaomRDa0mAi304AkrYZSS015IFmObpmROsLRVzElkF4fyJg0a-Gr17X2xmVEFcdie39zRE0Ts4sDauQ/s320/IMG_3649.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After five years of learning to love the South Downs, I found, with no little surprise, that I had a favourite walk here – Southease to Lewes, via Highdole Hill. It doesn’t make my top 20 walks, maybe not even the top 50, but a day of gentle ups and downs in one of the quieter sections of the Downs gets all the right muscles twitching. It is also one of the few places in the southeast of England where you can escape the crowds, stretch your legs, and appreciate the sounds of cows and seagulls instead of mobile phones and traffic. And for that alone, it deserves a little recognition.<br /><br /><strong><em>Southease to Lewes</em></strong><br />Southease Station is the perfect place to begin a <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">car-free walk</a>. No café, no car parks and usually no other passengers alighting, and the footpath starts at the end of the platform. How’s that for accessibility?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5mQIQ-IXpWqBHZkxNEvCt-jceHu_OFYhHw4ezt7HjtlxhldQqbRBV9yAGHbacxStiOzoIOApJjwlHfhQipLUF4GrSS8YPOwCeCpLrDrKo2MM2yUMvh8sKHvMW4ge9WFkMv2ysmI8qkY/s1600-h/IMG_3647.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311077687762463314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc5mQIQ-IXpWqBHZkxNEvCt-jceHu_OFYhHw4ezt7HjtlxhldQqbRBV9yAGHbacxStiOzoIOApJjwlHfhQipLUF4GrSS8YPOwCeCpLrDrKo2MM2yUMvh8sKHvMW4ge9WFkMv2ysmI8qkY/s320/IMG_3647.jpg" border="0" /></a>A short distance from here, over the old wooden bridge that spans the River Ouse, is the village of Southease, and the walk’s first highlight. <a href="http://www.roughwood.net/ChurchAlbum/EastSussex/Rodmell/RodmellStPeter2004.htm">St Peter’s Church</a> was built in the early 12th Century, and is a fine example of the architecture of this time. It’s well worth exploring if you are in no rush to reach the hills.<br /><br />Cross the road just out of Southease and a footpath takes you right into the South Downs Way. There’s no fixed route to follow – head along the secluded Breaky Bottom, or climb up to Highdole Hill for views over Rottingdean and the English Channel. The walk is also dotted with those features that colour a walk; look out for the path-side monument near Whiteway Bottom, in memory of another admirer of these hills. A little further along is the mysterious collection of farm buildings the southern side of Castle Hill Nature Reserve, disused except for the crows and ravens who watch as you pass.<br /><br />At Castle Hill, head briefly along the South Downs Way towards Kingston near Lewes. The <a href="http://www.beerintheevening.com/pubs/s/23/23620/Juggs_Arms/Kingston">Juggs Inn</a> is a handy place to refresh before the final couple of miles to Lewes. In spring evenings, you may even be treated to a display of Morris dancing in the road next to the beer garden. Mock ye not this splendid tradition; our ancient Isles would be a more cheerless place without these grown men and women who, for our entertainment, hit sticks together and wear bells round their ankles.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-1509824816835437162009-02-04T11:28:00.000-08:002009-04-22T04:19:28.765-07:00What's the Devil's Point? (The Cairngorms in Winter)With the Christmas festivities and New Year passing, my thoughts turned to the weeks ahead and an irresistable urge for some adventure. A couple of phone calls to like-minded friends, and some rooting around the internet for some cheap travel tickets, and plans were set. The Cairngorms in January - time to go and buy that <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/competition_fleeces.php">extra fleece</a> . . .<br /><br />To maximise time on the hills and save some annual leave for warmer times, we decided to travel north overnight using the wonderful <a href="http://www.scotrail.co.uk/caledoniansleeper/index.html">First Scotrail Caledonian Sleeper</a> from London Euston. We left it a little late to get a get a <a href="https://secure.firstscotrail-online.co.uk/_apps/users/journeys/search_journey_form.asp">bargain berth</a> (one way tickets from only £19), so we made do with a reclining chair each for only a little more money. Setting off from London just before midnight, we woke to the sound of bagpipes (or was it commuters on their way to work?) in Edinburgh seven hours later. A short stop off allowed time to get a quick breakfast, and then northwards again to our destination of Kingussie.<br /><br />Kingussie lies to the west of the main Cairngorm plateau, and is about as typical a Scottish highland town as you can imagine. With an appetite built up from the strenuous journey, and the thought of 48 hours without such an opportunity again, we sought out the local cafe and indulged in some solid carbohydrate loading. Thanks to the ladies at Pam's Pantry for the great food and hospitality, and to their guests for their interest in our kit and our sanity!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJvTCVOtoM1xFRhUciJnSvLsrOuCbtkjP8YKXHWeTWCgxmW4Zao0iwhmzrxlRM62t4iOUataI_v8iJx_BqectElakvC9DlMo_gAd3rABlCQZYYGwz0Yt63_pwB-2EsM1KnjYymuDDHW0/s1600-h/cairngorms1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299060747483074114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJvTCVOtoM1xFRhUciJnSvLsrOuCbtkjP8YKXHWeTWCgxmW4Zao0iwhmzrxlRM62t4iOUataI_v8iJx_BqectElakvC9DlMo_gAd3rABlCQZYYGwz0Yt63_pwB-2EsM1KnjYymuDDHW0/s200/cairngorms1.jpg" border="0" /></a>From the town we headed south-east on the road past Ruthven Barracks. This is an impressive ruin worth a closer look, but with a long day planned to our overnight accommodation, we pressed on to Tromie Bridge and our last brush with civilisation for a couple of days. Our target for the day was the beautiful glen of the River Feshie, where Tim had recommended a lovely little bothy somewhere along the banks. The weather was deteriorating as forecast, with some strong gusts of wind blowing through the hills and dampness in the air. The conifer plantations kept off the worst, though, and we made good time. Turning right at the meeting of Glen Feshie, we headed south along the banks of the river in diminishing light in search of the elusive hut that was to be our resting place for the night.<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.mountainbothies.org.uk/">Mountain Bothies Association</a> works "to maintain simple shelters in remote country for the use and benefit of all who love wild and lonely places" and what a wonderful job they do. We don't want to spoil the tranquillity of this particular place by advertising it's location, so join them, give them your money, and make use of the places they care for. Should you discover this one, you will find it warm and dry, with a wood burning fire, plenty of room to cook and sleep, and fresh water and a 'flush' toilet a few steps away (well, a bucket's supplied and the stream is only ten feet away).<br /><br />Day 2<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"> </span>dawned bright but windy, with a wonderful pink sunrise to waken the senses. Our initial plan was to head eastwards and upwards, into the hills around Mullach Clach a Bhlair. But with an ever increasing strength to the wind, we exercised due caution and opted to stick with the glen, heading south to stay low until the wind was on our tails. As we headed further into the hills, majestic views emerge, with the promise of more to come.<br /><br />We were heading for the metal bridge over the River Eidart, but before reaching this there are several wide and deep tributaries that require both care and patience to cross. However, having chosen the right travel companions for the trip, both were in evidence as we skipped across the stones, and it was only the perspiration from our heavy sacks that made us a little damp.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2D8-KG6lQvEhJ2yQf82P3DQz56uV6IbNPb_ctBgBvwKa5k73MXfDHzqEJ2ZPUFJPYNNXmiKh2Fs2rCVAjjPeh-NLXx9gv3YDostzVjQ_6UQBHZcAwcX6AzzRDT6DKg4owNMwWIkRL0F4/s1600-h/cairngorms2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299068690022497954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2D8-KG6lQvEhJ2yQf82P3DQz56uV6IbNPb_ctBgBvwKa5k73MXfDHzqEJ2ZPUFJPYNNXmiKh2Fs2rCVAjjPeh-NLXx9gv3YDostzVjQ_6UQBHZcAwcX6AzzRDT6DKg4owNMwWIkRL0F4/s200/cairngorms2.jpg" border="0" /></a>From the bridge, we began 'heather bashing' across the slopes of Cnapan Mor, a difficult task at the best of times made harder by the soft crust of snow. But as luck would have it, we happened across some tracks left by a passing Snowmobile, and with crampons attached we strode northwards to the pass between Leac Ghorm and Beinn Bhrotain. At this point we had planned to drop down into Glen Geusachan, but dangerous large cornices had built up on the north slopes; with the associated avalanche risks, we continued instead over the summit of Monadh Mor and gained access to the valley from the west. By that time, light was failing and we had to don our headtorches for the final miles round Devil's Point to the bothy at Corrour.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68qPGlw2Oj2mdWiS-56H2z0ngiZ9NNitjLL8YbdsxrSqzxCs4RY_gvefDY9TQ3v5ZW6ViOByVwqL8szHmemvxxGpV4hMFN84xAJ7KSQ0vQ1LxVyq7i7YOnXY-ymreSXJOZsBg1_O98e0/s1600-h/cairngorms5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299069232896499698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg68qPGlw2Oj2mdWiS-56H2z0ngiZ9NNitjLL8YbdsxrSqzxCs4RY_gvefDY9TQ3v5ZW6ViOByVwqL8szHmemvxxGpV4hMFN84xAJ7KSQ0vQ1LxVyq7i7YOnXY-ymreSXJOZsBg1_O98e0/s200/cairngorms5.jpg" border="0" /></a>The plan was to meet some friends who had walked up from Aviemore, and we were pleased to find them with a welcome brew waiting for us. However, as is the danger with the free accommodation, another group had also arrived (although we were in no way complaining - the hardy mix of Scottish and Welsh 'Munro Baggers' had shunned the lightweight approach and lugged 10kg of coal with them to keep us all toasty warm for the night) and with the limited space in the hut, we opted to brave the elements and bivvy in the shelter of the wonderful new compostable toilet. It was a dramatic bedroom, low cloud, bitterly cold, the imposing Devil's Point looming ominously just to the south, and in the middle of the night we found that we weren't alone (insert drum roll)... in the eery twilight hours, we were woken by two sizeable deer, and thankfully not the devil, grazing just by us.<br /><br />The forecast on Day 3 had changed noticeably from when we left home, and with aching limbs from the previous days exertions, we opted for the easier option off the hill, the Lairig Ghru. This long pass through the heart of the Cairngorms was once the main drove road to the south, and is a challenging excursion in it's own right. We were only tackling a section of it; easier, but not entirely without effort, as the icy conditions underfoot meant the mind couldn't wander too far, as we slipped over the pass between Sron na Lairige and Cairn Lochan at the Pools of Dee.<br /><br />From this point on it was pretty much downhill towards the vast forest of the Rothiemurchus Estate. Our walk had a beautiful end as we meandered through the pines towards Loch an Eilein, and onwards to a night of relative comfort at <a href="http://www.syha.org.uk/SYHA/Web/Site/Hostels/Aviemore.asp">YHA Aviemore</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdZqAIrQbdtYzQxy_K1-uj_I7NJUo1csIpjprj0KmDjK2ptuyNALv1hX6OJ83khotdqD1fK482RCVWY1KLV_JhjjGtUpy_mwYF6d8X32ShZtsyKXnn6ZMTH0CT4rdqy6YpYkM9gBhDBc/s1600-h/cairngorms3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299070444696364818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdZqAIrQbdtYzQxy_K1-uj_I7NJUo1csIpjprj0KmDjK2ptuyNALv1hX6OJ83khotdqD1fK482RCVWY1KLV_JhjjGtUpy_mwYF6d8X32ShZtsyKXnn6ZMTH0CT4rdqy6YpYkM9gBhDBc/s200/cairngorms3.jpg" border="0" /></a>The journey back to the South Coast the following day wasn't without a hitch, as it was the day that winter made a visit to London for the first time in years. But all credit to the train companies for getting us home in a timely manner for the princely sum of £32. A fitting icy end to a fantastic long weekend of true Scottish conditions<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">. </span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">G.S.</span>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-69327807287677590862009-01-06T12:15:00.000-08:002009-04-22T04:21:23.876-07:00A one-way ticket through the Yorkshire DalesOne of the joys of <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">car-free walking </a>is making up your own routes. Rather than sticking to a well-trodden path, or a particular peak, you can select two stations or bus stops – one to start and one to finish – and make up the bit in between. With this cunning plan in mind, I spread out my maps of the <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/search.php?lat=0&lng=0&sortby=distance&place=&location=&radius=250&county=&national_park=Yorkshire+Dales&duration=&type=">Yorkshire Dales</a> and started scanning.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZfl-q33uUljJFKbEOzz4VJ9DVeQ34Z93zrRqL5jiNeg2ZTrMbEdt69_bo6s5Q8t_DyYnibIWjvL9D8tCfo0bPG_ryn1ndx5T8TpqPTQwf56Mg8WhgeuI_z_c4_nUIw0SE6We3rP_LCc/s1600-h/IMG_3406.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288283211156075154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZfl-q33uUljJFKbEOzz4VJ9DVeQ34Z93zrRqL5jiNeg2ZTrMbEdt69_bo6s5Q8t_DyYnibIWjvL9D8tCfo0bPG_ryn1ndx5T8TpqPTQwf56Mg8WhgeuI_z_c4_nUIw0SE6We3rP_LCc/s200/IMG_3406.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The problem with the Dales, though, is where to start? There are several train stations around the south and western sides, and good bus services through all the major dales, which means the whole park is easily reached <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">without a car</a>. The Three Peaks – Ingleborough, Whernside and Pen-y-ghent – were demanding a second visit, and Wensleydale boasts some of the finest walking in England. Or what about exploring a less familiar valley – Raydale, Wharfedale or Dentdale?<br /><br />Time for Plan B. A brief check on the <a href="http://www.thetrainline.com/">Trainline</a> found cheap rail tickets from London to Gargrave, so that was the starting point. And a friend had recently spent a night at <a href="https://www.yha.org.uk/find-accommodation/yorkshire-dales-south-pennines/hostels/grinton-lodge/index.aspx">Grinton Lodge</a> in Swaledale while cycling the Coast to Coast path; for want of a more noble reason that would be my end target. So, south to north across the best part of the National Park. As for the bit in between? Well, I could make it up.<br /><br />Gargrave was bright and sunny upon arrival, and after stocking up on supplies (I had eaten my emergency chocolate on the train), a brisk amble along the Pennine Way took me to Malham. No time to visit the famous cove before darkness fell, so instead I made for the <a href="http://www.listerarms.co.uk/">Lister Arms</a>, maps at the ready to plan the next day’s route. Unfortunately, three pints of Thwaites’ Nutty Black scuppered any attempts at forward planning and I was soon tucked up in bed – at least I got an early night.<br /><br />The stars were still out when I left the hostel and headed towards Gordale – with the next night’s bed in far-off Wensleydale, I needed to keep up a steady pace. A herd of cows huddled together in a field, the morning frost clinging to their shaggy brows. They watched me pass in my hat and gloves, envious of these warming garments.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nwEStNzglELhbJVZOddD_f1bFc7j6gFj-iKmLzT3DQT16xIyLJb1oy-MuXB9CrjDTxvVbKANwBNWLucKrno8S7TEq0o69OqoPX4na5eswxSUSKyKrNUKAeMNBzsHE17CQ1EQKc04CSk/s1600-h/IMG_3404.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288282770242924242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nwEStNzglELhbJVZOddD_f1bFc7j6gFj-iKmLzT3DQT16xIyLJb1oy-MuXB9CrjDTxvVbKANwBNWLucKrno8S7TEq0o69OqoPX4na5eswxSUSKyKrNUKAeMNBzsHE17CQ1EQKc04CSk/s200/IMG_3404.jpg" border="0" /></a>But in my eagerness for an early start, I had forgotten that Yorkshire gets a bit chilly in November. The rocks and boulders that jostle around the foot of Gordale Scar were coated with a thin but treacherous layer of ice, and the stream was bursting down the waterfall – evidence of the recent heavy rains. After two short-lived attempts to scramble up, and two soggy boots from rapid downclimbing, it was time to change plan and head up via New Close Knotts.<br /><br />Even this was far from simple; the Dales’ distinctive limestone scars are steeper than they look from the valleys. A stone kicked down by a stray left boot bounced down to the valley floor; I took extra care over the final few feet to make sure I didn’t follow it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTaoJONYECe_wnYII-lhQPsL4j57HrbFFypqvV5H0q6yMf8BjVkS1VNaPSTjavVKjiq5e7DRJlMr-Ndc9BNbHQZENE8bOxMKWrCOlO7oGE9RlsKlwwvEQSlInAXa5puCKeylie8dptzg/s1600-h/IMG_3413.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288282071311976338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTaoJONYECe_wnYII-lhQPsL4j57HrbFFypqvV5H0q6yMf8BjVkS1VNaPSTjavVKjiq5e7DRJlMr-Ndc9BNbHQZENE8bOxMKWrCOlO7oGE9RlsKlwwvEQSlInAXa5puCKeylie8dptzg/s200/IMG_3413.jpg" border="0" /></a>If the early bird catches the worm, then the early walker gets the hills to himself. For the three hour hike to Arncliffe, I could enjoy the moors in blissful solitude, the frozen ground crunching beneath my feet. Along with three ascents, six tea breaks, and two slips, my route took me through four different dales – Littondale, Wharfedale, Raydale and Wensleydale. Crossing them in succession is more tiring than exploring one dale in a day, but added fascinating variety as each has its own distinct character. The bustling, tourist-loving Wensleydale contrasted with the hidden and elusive Raydale; Wharfedale was bustling with birds flitting along the river, collecting the last berries of autumn, while the sheep on the moors above Littondale huddled together behind a wall to shelter from the biting November wind.<br /><br />After a refreshing overnight stay the <a href="http://www.theprideofwensleydale.co.uk/">Rose & Crown</a> in Bainbridge, legs were fully restored from the 22 miles of the previous day and I set off at the more reasonable hour of 9.00am. The final day’s route headed across the grouse moors that rise up above Wensleydale, and head into Grinton in Swaledale. Grouse – and the associated shooting industry –dominate this part of Yorkshire. Grouse butts run in lines all over the moor, and every few footsteps would send one of these clumsy black birds into a whirring, stumbling flight over the moor, accompanied by a series of panicked squawk. They have every right to be scared – shooting is still big business round here. Graceless they may be, but that’s still no reason to blast them.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdWHso0ag71se9eiuQcr5ymMcAD3RiZccX7r7-ItXlnr_4TO88H4s8_TUbSI4VbiieD3dRKpJr02bgc_SiIXZMX62WV1gN4p_L-pNlTu6wNJIE3DqrAaTEMhPeXf5CQxujPvdgapap28/s1600-h/IMG_3449.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288283665673175490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdWHso0ag71se9eiuQcr5ymMcAD3RiZccX7r7-ItXlnr_4TO88H4s8_TUbSI4VbiieD3dRKpJr02bgc_SiIXZMX62WV1gN4p_L-pNlTu6wNJIE3DqrAaTEMhPeXf5CQxujPvdgapap28/s200/IMG_3449.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The frost had given way to snow on this higher ground, hiding the many bogs, streams and frozen ponds that scatter these moors, and I was cold and a little weary upon arrival in Grinton. Like all good walkers, I headed straight for the Bridge Inn, much vaunted by my coast to coast cycling friend. Several of the punters enjoying their Sunday lunch gave me disdainful looks – they hadn’t expected this snowy, hairy and sweaty intrusion to their dinner.<br /><br />Fortunately the landlord’s father – doing an emergency shift behind the bar – was more welcoming. A keen walker himself, we were soon chatting at the bar about the moors above the village, life in Swaledale, and the history of Grinton. And as the unfriendly diners drifted away, my reward for three days of braving the elements presented itself – the fireside chair. Settling back, toes stretched towards the flames, and pint at hand, I could look back on a job well done – forty miles, five different dales and several pints of Yorkshire bitter. The final effort was to move my aching limbs from the fireside chair and climb up the hill to the Lodge – the hardest part of the whole trip.</div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288284060073488834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-Y9qmNjUBO006vncpAY07ebEcsHiCIZu9v8c9Rla_ADUS_G3KhiU9XEwsxcjcXzOySOkKmN5JNnDad-5cXXCHVvgJ_SURzGaLli6LFtW8mPz_Mi1aNbDAsbL9KjyYX3VIc4vKjBJLw8/s320/IMG_3429.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Photos by me. Nice, aren't they.</span></em></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div></div></div><div><div></div><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong><em>Getting there</em></strong></div><div>Gargrave Station is on the <a href="http://www.settle-carlisle.co.uk/">Leeds-Carlisle</a> line, easily reached from either end. Getting back from Grinton involves taking the <a href="http://www.dalesbus.org/">Dalesbus</a> from Grinton to Richmond, and onto Northallerton for the nearest train station. Richmond makes a nice stop for a pot of tea if you have to wait while changing buses.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong><em></em></strong></div><div><strong><em>Where to eat, drink, sleep</em></strong></div><div>Lots of options in each of the Dales - the ones mentioned in this blog were all very cosy and friendly, but better to make up your own Dales' route -there are loads of great places to relax after a day's walk!</div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div></div></div></div>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-11005909131274148512008-11-13T06:47:00.000-08:002009-04-22T04:24:03.812-07:00The northern end of the Nantlle RidgeOnce known as Snowdonia’s best kept secret, the Nantlle Ridge is an eye-catching line of six hills lying southwest of the Snowdon massif. These days, the narrow crests and rocky peaks attract their fair share of walkers and scramblers, but rarely suffer from <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUagWXtJI1vocb8HdF2ZsgKDHrd3Z4IZycheVSvi7n1S5HXQA50Go9S7pc4_S5Z7ymFY69kuP9QphktmDX_Z3xyv9cPwKoveGo84NZNhMallNfIKCWAc2cx2N3nQP82zB1_4QynLCqxa8/s1600-h/CarFreeWalk05.10.08v.jpg"></a>the overcrowding that afflicts other parts of the National Park. If the views alone don’t take your breath away, then the sharp breezes that whip in from the Irish Sea will finish the job. <div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3kTtRqkWhQIMU8_BWkbtEb3oK-b9KpFvPsXar6DoQFCvwzH5g44Rsoc9uZnvoVfncrHkwIehM7hXIrXrpzcW60Tvp09NELh5u2NS2Sew-Ab8SAR-4s12iQTki2iCOhD46RQjEjFpi3MA/s1600-h/CarFreeWalk05.10.08x.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268161601721531538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 303px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 197px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3kTtRqkWhQIMU8_BWkbtEb3oK-b9KpFvPsXar6DoQFCvwzH5g44Rsoc9uZnvoVfncrHkwIehM7hXIrXrpzcW60Tvp09NELh5u2NS2Sew-Ab8SAR-4s12iQTki2iCOhD46RQjEjFpi3MA/s320/CarFreeWalk05.10.08x.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />To walk the whole ridge in one attempt presents major logistical problems; the six summits are laid out in a line, meaning there is no easy way to reach all the peaks without a long track back along one of the adjacent valleys. But a day traversing the four northernmost peaks combines the best these hills have to offer; enjoyable scrambling, the finest ridge walk this side of Crib Goch and the best views of Snowdon you can find.<br /></div><div><br />This circular walk takes you over the peaks of Y Garn (633m), Mynydd Drws-y-coed (695m), Trum y Ddysgl (709m) and Mynydd Tal-y-mignedd (653m), finishing with a descent through the dense conifers of the Beddgelert Forest. The route starts and finishes at the bus stop in Rhyd-Ddu, which means you to travel using the <a href="http://www.visitcaernarfon.com/sherpa/index.html">Snowdon Sherpa</a>, the walker-friendly bus network that serves the Snowdon region so well. <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">Leaving the car behind</a> allows you concentrate on the stunning scenery in this part of the world, rather than the busy winding roads.<br /><br />From the bus stop, head up the hairpin road behind the Cwellyn Arms pub. At the first bend in the road, take the bridleway heading out across farmland. The path starts to climb the grassy flank of Y Garn, taking no prisoners as it heads straight up the steepest line on the hill.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhUyRb90sakHeFDxw9wMyvEkJS5bxCnT5GVyV2j1WqyiS4UncyN-UF2SsKE6W_Gl5F6rJ9T8VRMZuXdIoHu1hVyYd5_OtyRmaNLGFdKAe-mTwR22iyFJFssSt5jwM5p-qWqfXFmeQ3Tyg/s1600-h/CarFreeWalk05.10.08n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268163085529619138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhUyRb90sakHeFDxw9wMyvEkJS5bxCnT5GVyV2j1WqyiS4UncyN-UF2SsKE6W_Gl5F6rJ9T8VRMZuXdIoHu1hVyYd5_OtyRmaNLGFdKAe-mTwR22iyFJFssSt5jwM5p-qWqfXFmeQ3Tyg/s320/CarFreeWalk05.10.08n.jpg" border="0" /></a>The summit of Y Garn offers the first great views of the day; to the north is the dramatic face of Craig y Bera on Mynydd Mawr, rising up above the Nantlle valley; looking east is Yr Aran, one of <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZJ73gkSjkaU-cENJZEY8aMX89tEFohRlJDqyrZwlTQo0ODBUg5j656ReB9VUrDB-8lqOoLtfwz22VILXhGjubF_Hx72xF76gIXowlMg_E4Zpk2v8PTx1KuojETJcyleTFckk0zn83Go/s1600-h/CarFreeWalk05.10.08n.jpg"></a>Snowdon’s most photogenic outposts. The summit of Y Garn also poses one of those enduring mysteries of the countryside – why did someone need to build a dry stone wall up here, and how long must it have taken, bearing in mind the journey to work each day? The wall that takes a near-perfect line down the rocky north-western shoulder is even more remarkable; anyone who has spent time attempting the arduous task of drystone walling will be impressed.<br /><br />From the comfort of Y Garn, the scramble up to Mynydd Drws-y-coed can look a little intimidating; the drop down the right-hand side over Clogwyn Marchnad commands a healthy respect. But once you are in among the rocks, the holds are large and plentiful and the path follows an easy line. Those who prefer an edge to their scrambling can stick to the crest; for others, there are plenty of routes to the left of the cliff, a safe distance from the foreboding face yet with plenty of enjoyable routes.<br /><br />Along the ridge to Trum y Ddysgl, the walk switches from a rocky scramble to a simple romp over smooth, grass-covered slopes. Before getting into your stride, look back towards the dark, mossy crags of Clogwyn Marchnad, the western face of Mynydd Drws-y-coed. You will no doubt see a few brave sheep risking life and limb to graze on seemingly unreachable outcrops – is the dining there so much better than the gentle slopes around? Maybe some sheep are just born with an adventurous spirit and enjoy a meal with a view.<br /><br />Mynydd Tal-y-mignedd lies across another section of exposed ridge – the wind can take your breath away along here, as well as any stray rucksack covers and maps cases. The summit is marked by a five-foot high obelisk built to celebrate Queen Victoria’s jubilee. From here, follow the wall that runs along the southern shoulder before veering left past the rocky outcrops into Cwm Dwyfor. No clear path here, so just pick a line across open access land and head into Cwm Pennant.<br /><br />The route joins a bridleway through the Beddgelert Forest, a sprawling coniferous plantation that stretches right across to the village that bears its name. The path skirts along the edge of the forest, soon passing an old disused mine shaft, now fenced off to prevent unwary hikers from missing the shaft, hidden amongst a sea of ferns and mosses.<br /><br />There are reminders of Snowdonia’s industrial past all along this route, relics from a different age before the tourists started arriving in numbers. From the ridge, disused slate mines and quarries are clearly visible on many of the surrounding hillsides; at the foot of Elider Fawr, on the western flanks of Snowdon, by Llyn-y-Gader and dotted along Cwm Pennant. Are these an ugly scar on a beautiful landscape, or an important relic from past times in these valleys? Perspectives may differ, but they are an unavoidable feature of most walks in Snowdonia.<br /><br />After leaving the forest, the bridleway skirts the bottoms of the hills you have just enjoyed, before dropping back into Rhyd-Ddu the way you came in. Time for a final gaze upon the distinctive skyline of these rewarding hills. </div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268164469501963090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUkku_1ESCkt6HI6UsDnhQIonKUAOg4mDRB7zM3zzj-ssx_MwljJyyGuYCldhxa8wVZ6X-ATOlTXCio3nSBwdRTfCyZxBxYymr2b-vA15mXnEMJ8v-CJAbLQCWqiWaYNEksiqsc4n10I/s320/CarFreeWalk05.10.08z.jpg" border="0" /><br /><em>(Thanks to Laura Crow for the photos)</em><br /><br /><strong><em>Getting there</em></strong><br />Rhyd Ddu is located on route S4 on the Snowdon Sherpa bus network, which runs between Caernarfon and Porthmadog. A day ticket costs £4.00 (£2.00 for children) and allows you to hop on and off the network as many times as you like. For up-to-date timetable information, visit www.gwynedd.gov.uk/bwsgwynedd or ring traveline on 0870 608 2608.<br /><br /><strong><em>Where to eat, drink, sleep<br /></em></strong>The Cwellyn Arms in Rhyd-Ddu has catered for walkers descending Snowdon by the Rhyd Ddu path or the Snowdon Ranger path for years, with a good selection of hot meals and pre-walk snacks available. Leaving the car at home also means you can enjoy one of the pub’s nine real ales. Near to the pub, the newly opened <a href="http://www.snowdoninn.co.uk/">Snowdon Inn </a>(01766 890321) offers affordable yet comfortable accommodation of all kinds, including Bed and Breakfast, a bunk house and a campsite.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-70192564138426841512008-09-16T02:19:00.000-07:002008-09-23T02:05:35.122-07:00The Tongariro Alpine Crossing<strong><em>The world’s most famous car-free walk?<br /></em></strong><br />New Zealanders proudly proclaim the <a href="http://www.doc.govt.nz/templates/trackandwalk.aspx?id=36028">Tongariro Alpine Crossing </a>as “the world’s best one-day walk”. It’s a challenging 18.5 km hike across dramatic volcanic landscape in the heart of New Zealand’s North Island, where dark red craters with smoking fumaroles rise up amidst ancient lava flows that spread across the valleys. The sparkling Emerald Lakes provide the perfect lunch stop at halfway, followed by the Blue Lake and Ketetahi Hot Springs – the natural wonders along this walk get more spectacular with each step.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypaf-iXTgkLK34wDNl7V6E7VMVVGnnCaxSFZFA1W-uLk0VMZ9697q19AU5mIsABFSoZjJs854RdSQzQJtxZWw3I45-4D5KCoETR64ZfJ1wHmgeLq0SguE_Y9xIT9Qxl-Foy_BwR_Ca6I/s1600-h/Emerald+lakes.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249139643051246722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypaf-iXTgkLK34wDNl7V6E7VMVVGnnCaxSFZFA1W-uLk0VMZ9697q19AU5mIsABFSoZjJs854RdSQzQJtxZWw3I45-4D5KCoETR64ZfJ1wHmgeLq0SguE_Y9xIT9Qxl-Foy_BwR_Ca6I/s200/Emerald+lakes.JPG" border="0" /></a>At times, the region seems like something from another world. It’s no surprise the mountains of Tongariro provided the setting for Mordor in the recent ‘Lord of the Rings’ film trilogy, with the textbook volcano of Ngauruhoe doubling as Mount Doom. With so much to see in one day, and the route being achievable for most walkers, the Kiwis have a strong claim to the “world’s best walk” title.<br /><br />Another great feature of this walk is that it is easy to reach without a car. Many of the thousands of walkers who visit each year use the specially arranged buses that serve the start and finish of the walk. Early morning, buses drop the eager ‘trampers’ (the local name for walkers) at the Mangetepopo Valley – the start of the route. After a memorable day’s walking, the weary crowds finish at the foot of the Ketetahi Track. Sitting in a forest clearing, they can check the day’s photos as they wait for the pick-up buses.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8exVXkxkQyPYw_jvxONNkAh4oJHFoM1mYNLqW_yil1SVoi8l7qeq90dGPUqYqFQIy6U3umYvzgyp6KGJ0_AQXza2QeQubYNpKW-aJWTC3IIhbEwUTiL-OHurCd9wB_SjbqbJv-yOfmE/s1600-h/Volcanoes.JPG"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqTyjVikXM69p9hkkxZsRB79lpF82c4Ncnho0-eXC4aSQ484YDw5UrE3a4ktaBY8Dvv25urbx1mKmvkCCtnU_7sumpu7ienLsDAlDdosh-kg8gZfG4LH0u1HU2x_vmhxEt8Ty_dyDXU8/s1600-h/Volcanoes.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249139257722151730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 157px" height="151" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqTyjVikXM69p9hkkxZsRB79lpF82c4Ncnho0-eXC4aSQ484YDw5UrE3a4ktaBY8Dvv25urbx1mKmvkCCtnU_7sumpu7ienLsDAlDdosh-kg8gZfG4LH0u1HU2x_vmhxEt8Ty_dyDXU8/s200/Volcanoes.JPG" width="228" border="0" /></a>This is how walking should be – taking time to explore stunning scenery, walking from A to B, with no need to back-track halfway around and return to the car. The linear nature of the Tongariro Alpine Crossing – the famous geological features are handily spread out along the route – makes these buses essential to many visitors.<br /><br />The transport system in this part of New Zealand runs so smoothly that few people even consider other options – a big achievement in a nation where many people are dependent on cars. Fourteen local bus companies collect people from nearby Turangi or Taupo – many of these are run by the backpacker hostels and guesthouses in these towns, making it an easy option for the backpackers that flock to New Zealand to go hiking. The several pick-up buses run throughout the afternoon and evening. This means there are no long waits for walkers who arrive earlier than expected and no rush to get a particular bus, allowing people to spread out along the route, going at their own pace.<br /><br />It’s the same set-up for all of New Zealand's <a href="http://www.doc.govt.nz/templates/CustomSummary.aspx?id=42468">Great Walks </a>– when you book up the route, the <a href="http://www.doc.govt.nz/">Department of Conservation </a>staff will help you to arrange transport to and from the walk. For walkers, it’s a cheap, reliable and efficient system. For the park managers and local conservationists, encouraging people out of their cars helps to prevent congestion and pollution on the roads that take people to New Zealand’s wild and wondrous outdoors.<br /><br />Could similar services run in the UK’s most popular walking regions? there are few services than run specifically to meet the needs of walkers – the <a href="http://www.visitcaernarfon.com/sherpa/index.html">Snowdon Sherpa </a>being a notable exception. Many popular walks are circular by nature – the glacial valleys in the Lake District provide many famous ‘horseshoes’, such as Fairfield – and many people take the easiest or most popular route to go up and down mountains. Starting and finishing walks at the same point encourages people to go by car. But there are many, many routes in these islands that are crying out for their own, tailor-made walker’s bus service, which would reduce congestion and open up whole mountain ranges to the joys of linear walking – completing a ridge in one go rather than going round in circles. Here are a few possibilities that spring to mind:<br /><br /><strong><em>The Brecon Beacons, South Wales</em></strong><br />Most walkers tackle the three highest peaks – Corn Du, Cribyn, and Pen y Fan – as a circular walk from either Brecon or Storey Arms. A better day out is to complete the whole range in one go, continuing on to Fan Y Big and Waun Rydd . Buses could collect walkers from near the Talybont Reservoir and return them to the nearby towns, villages and campsites.<br /><br /><strong><em>Aonach Eagach, Glen Coe<br /></em></strong>This fantastic ridge demands to be done in one direction; there’s no easy short cuts down. A dedicated and regular bus service for walkers could drop people off at Alt-na Reigh and collect them at the Clachaig Inn, which would also enable a linear traverse of the Three Sisters on the opposite side of the valley. This would reduce the number of cars speeding along the A82 and make the road considerably safer for everyone.<br /><br />Of course, there are many pitfalls that would need to be overcome, such as cost recovery, reliability, seasonality and persuading enough people out of their cars to justify the service (a bit of stick as well as carrot would be needed). But with so many keen walkers in the UK, it’s hard to believe the potential demand is not there. More buses run specifically to meet the needs of walkers would also help to further promote the UK as an ideal walking destination, especially for tourists who visit without cars. And who knows, one of our mountain ranges could start to challenge the Tongariro Alpine Crossing for its ‘World’s Best’ title.<br /><br /><em>(Thanks to Jimmy Johnson at DOC for the photos)</em>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-25495242640314822282008-09-07T14:00:00.000-07:002009-04-22T01:51:54.197-07:00A tale of two valleys: my first car-free walkEvery weekend in the summer, people swarm to the Lake District’s myriad attractions. The campsites book up months in advance, spilling over with families, barbeques and guy ropes; crossing the field to join a toilet queue becomes an SAS-style mission. Fortunately for those who prefer to watch the sun set without a Frisbee flying across it, there are endless opportunities for wild camping – pitching your tent in the wilderness, miles from anyone else.<br /><br />A long weekend away was also an opportunity to think through an idea for a new walking website. Whilst a few guidebooks and walking magazines now mention how to get to a route by bus or train, the nearest car park is still what most walkers look for. I wanted to create a <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">website</a> where people could share walks in the UK that could be reached by public transport. A few nights alone in the quietest corners of the Lakes would be the perfect opportunity to think through ideas, work out a plan and, most importantly, think up a name.<br /><br />After booking some very cheap train tickets from London to Windermere (a bargain £19 each way with <a href="http://www.thetrainline.com/">The Trainline</a>), and packing a brand new Terra Nova tent into a well-worn backpack, I head north. I time my arrival in Windermere at late afternoon, when most walkers are trudging down from the summits. This is a well-known wild camping trick; just 30 minutes later on Orrest Head (an easy 238m ascent), there is no one to disturb the views across Windermere and the golds and russets of the fells provide the perfect backdrop for people enjoying England’s largest natural lake from their rowing boats. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZblVCMnaU4ohK7wTNtX5P36C0lD8OrCE0GC-dPamLZfuvNsNxWIlvfbe9TpMH9egYlVJG2nhmYB35b6oZqiAzVUj5iq7Tn_mc46Oh7YfiFBPlosxniNqcxrlqbr0De4KzwwQxD-niCM/s1600-h/IMG_0065.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243391274082912450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZblVCMnaU4ohK7wTNtX5P36C0lD8OrCE0GC-dPamLZfuvNsNxWIlvfbe9TpMH9egYlVJG2nhmYB35b6oZqiAzVUj5iq7Tn_mc46Oh7YfiFBPlosxniNqcxrlqbr0De4KzwwQxD-niCM/s320/IMG_0065.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Heading deeper into <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/walks/115/troutbeck_valley_-_the_first_car_free_walk">Troutbeck Valley </a>along the Garburn track, the trickle of evening walkers dries up completely. As dusk settles, I pitch my brand new tent on the grassy flanks of Ill Bell alone – the Lake District to myself at last. Some inquisitive sheep wander over to see what’s happening, unused to intruders disturbing their peace at this time of day. The setting sun sends soft purple shadows across the silent valley, and the scent of wild grass and bracken just overpowers the smell of damp boots.<br /><br />By 7am the next morning, I’m heading north towards Stony Cove Pike. The plan is to head towards Helvellyn and wild camp near Red Tarn. Three glorious hours pass before meeting the first walker of the day. He issues a cheery “good morning”, displaying the bonhomie that flourishes between walkers in Britain’s mountains. By mid morning, the crowds are out in force, jockeying for position around the famous Fairfield horseshoe. And ever more they come; on Helvellyn, after the 200th “hello” of the day, my good spirits are in dangerously short supply – the solitude of a wild camp can’t come soon enough.<br /><br />‘Closing Time’ syndrome strikes again as the sun goes down, and the fells are soon deserted apart from a few stragglers carefully descending Swirral Edge. Dark clouds are gathering, though, and neither my new tent nor tired limbs fancy a cold, soggy night on higher ground, so I head into Grisedale Valley to look for shelter. Some hope. As the winds pick up and the clouds explode, the tent starts playing games – there hadn’t been this many poles last night, surely?<br /><br />But 10 minutes later, the stove is bubbling and the boots are off. I sit in the small porch to watch the storm unleash its fury on Patterdale and Ullswater. And there’s no better way to enjoy the Lake District than sheltered by canvas with a whole valley to yourself, whether it’s lit up by lightning or a sunset.<br /><br />Next morning, the inclement weather means an early start (the rain started at 5am) and a head-down, hood-up quick march back over Fairfield and into Ambleside, where warm pubs and foodstuffs other than cereal bars await me. Refreshed, it’s a short stroll for the final night’s camping – this time in the relative comfort of the campsite behind <a href="http://www.rydalhall.org/index.php?page=camping-info">Rydal Hall</a>.<br /><br />The final day presents a situation that will be familiar to many other <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/register.php">car-free walkers</a>. Anxious not to miss my train (pre-booked tickets are rarely changeable), I was again off early over Wansfell, taking the scenic route back to Windermere station rather than walking alongside the A591. But arriving two hours early left a slight dilemma; how welcome would I be in the Booth’s café, after three days of camping and little more than a splash in the sink as a token nod to hygiene? The scent of fresh coffee and the enticing smells of cooked breakfasts proved too strong; dropping my bag near the door, I sheepishly made my way to the counter to order. “Been out walking, love?” enquired the waitress. “You’ll be hungry, then. What would you like?” Clearly they are used to bedraggled walkers round these parts. The breakfast soon arrives, and I can stretch the weary legs and take out the notebook to write up my <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/walks/115/troutbeck_valley_-_the_first_car_free_walk">first car-free walk</a>. Now, all I need is a name for this <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">website</a>…Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2588178592984165504.post-22989486802108369722008-08-19T09:59:00.001-07:002008-09-07T14:24:42.719-07:00Welcome to the Car Free Walks blog!Welcome to the Car Free Walks blog! This is linked to our website, <a href="http://www.carfreewalks.org/">Car Free Walks</a>, where walkers can share walks in England, Scotland and Wales that can be reached using public transport. On this blog we will be sharing stories from our own walks, suggesting our favourite car-free walks, bringing you news from the the world of walking, and occasionally having a rant about cars, roads, traffic jams in the Lake District etc.<br /><br />So come and visit us once in a while!Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0