The Hiking Gardener And His Misunderstood Dog.

Alport Castles, Win Hill, Derwent Edge.

2010-04-29T18:10:00.017Z

These are some of the pictures I took during my last walk. These deal with the route I took, mainly the forward view but there are a couple looking back. The green line indicates the line of the path I took.

Looking back down the path through the forest after leaving the car park.

Heading for Alport Castles.

The route down the valley to the Snake Pass road (A57).

Looking back to where we just came from.

Win Hill is what we're aiming for next that they is where the red dot is.

The some of the route forward from Win Hill.

Looking back over the Ladybower Reservoir.

Looking across the valley to Win Hill.

The route to Back Tor.

The Route to Lost Lad.

Across the moor to the Derwent Valley.

Down there at the end of that water is the end of the walk but you know Bob won't let you get away with it that easy. Instead we have to turn and head off in the other direction for another mile as there is something I want to show you although knowing you lot all this extra two miles won't even raise a comment but thats the way I am, I just think about you all the time and will go out of my way just to try and make you all happy...

So here is what I wanted you to see, its turned a bit dull and misty but hopefully you can see why I bought you all this way round.

Moscar - Rowsley (The Last Part)

2010-04-07T18:33:00.007Z

As promised here are the rest of the pictures of my last walk through Chatsworth Estate to my destination at Rowsley. First of all thought here is a link to Chatsworth so you can get more info on the place if you wish.

http://www.peakdistrictonline.co.uk/content.php?categoryId=1074

The first picture shows the cricket field and pavilion in Chatsworth Park, when I was a garden boy and learning my trade one of my jobs after I'd been there a few years was to be sent down here once a week through the summer to mow the grass. You can't tell from the picture but the pavilion has a thatched roof.

In this next picture you will see Queen Mary's Bower, for more about this go to the link above as really I'm no history teacher so you're best to learn about it from someone who knows what they're talking about.

I include this next picture simply because in the far distance you can just make out the Village of Beeley which is where my dad's side of the family come from. I never actually lived there myself, when I was born we lived up on the hill you can see behind the village. I did go to Beeley school though so from age of five I used to walk from home down through the woods and fields you can see on the hillside behind the village every morning and then back again in the evening.

After a year at Beeley school part of our house blew down one night in a storm and we had to move out to a place in the Village of Rowsley which is only a mile from Beeley. So really Rowsley is my home and my parents still live in the house I grew up in and that is where I was headed this day. Here you see the route by the River Derwent just a short distance before it enters the village.

This is my parents house and where I lived from the age of seven, this picture was not taken on the day though and is one from a while ago.

Longshaw To Baslow.

2010-04-06T17:15:00.006Z

In this post I will show you some of the things I saw between Longshaw Lodge and Baslow.

Longshaw Lodge is now owned by the National Trust but was originally built by The Duke of Rutland as a shooting retreat. The lodge was built near to a toll road but the Duke liking his privacy got the road diverted. This shows the power these people had in Victorian times.

The walk through the Longshaw country park is level and on a good track at the end of which is the pub. I didn't get a picture of the beer Sara because I didn't stop - I know, how boring am I?!! Anyway all along the path there are good views to be had over the Derwent Valley, there are even better to be seen after the pub though.

On the hill just before desending in to Baslow is Wellington's Monument ....and close by was this character with a few of his mates.

In the next post we will be taken in Chatsworth Park.

Stanage Edge (Part Three).

2010-04-04T13:55:00.006Z

Hello everyone,

Here are some more pictures taken on my last walk, they are some of the interesting things I saw along the way.

I've been given several explanations as to what purpose the item in the first picture serves but I can't make my mind up which one to believe so I won't risk telling you something that isn't true. What is obvious is that they are intended to catch water presumable for something to drink. Not the two channels carved out in order to catch and then divert the water that runs down the rock and guide it in to the small bowl. There are many of these along Stanage Edge all of which are numbered this being number 4.

As you can see from the picture in the previous post Stanage Edge is a almost vertical cliff which is very popular with those that like to go rock climbing, it is easy to spend too much time there admiring their skills and what too me seems like bravery.

Many years back now these places had a much more productive roll to play in providing work for local people and different stone products for businesses such as mills and farms. Today the item below would look fine in many a garden and would cost a great deal to buy, here though it lies unfinished as an unofficial monument to the past. If you look inside you can still see the marks left by the person working on this project also I think the outside would have been finished to a much higher similar to the few inches at the top of the trough.

This next picture is something else that would have been made in such a place as Stanage Edge, its the old millstone outside the old flour mill in Chatsworth park.

I hope you find these things as interesting as I do, I will show you some more things from the walk when you've digested this lot. If you want to read more about Stanage Edge click on the title of this post.

Moscar - Rowsley (Part Two)

2010-04-02T19:43:00.013Z

I have all the pictures ready now from last weekends walk, this is to be just the first post of several and mainly shows the route, I will present the side dishes in following posts as this is a very interesting walk. It totals eighteen miles in length but if you are capable of walking twelve to fifteen miles in the day you should manage this walk okay as it's easy walking mostly on the flat or down hill. There is a bit of a climb to start with but its very gentle. Also at the half way point there is a pub, the front door of which you pass unless you're tempted inside. It would also be a good place to break the walk up if you didn't fancy doing the whole thing in one go. So is Bob spoiling you or what? Not only does he find you a walk on a good path that's nearly all down hill, he provides a view at nearly ever single step and throws in some bonus points on interest and gives you a pub half way along the route, it doesn't get much better than this I tell you.

[As always click on the pictures you wish to enlarge]

This first picture is taken looking back to the A57 at Moscar which is where Vicki dropped me off. Thats the truth - she did drop me off and not kick me out and tell me to walk home. Shortly after starting this your route for the next four miles or so, all the time to your right there are staggering views to be had, in fact to the left also.

After the four mile walk along Stanage Edge we then follow the valley all the way down to the Longshaw Estate between Carl Wark and Burbage Edge.

Entering the Longshaw Estate.

The walk through the Longshaw Estate, the pub is not far away now.

Looking down the Derwent Valley, the walk ends somewhere in the far distance. From here we leave the high ground and walk by the river Derwent through the Chatsworth estate.

Looking back to Chatsworth House from the park. My route passing in front of the house.

Approacing the old mill that was closed in I think the sixties when I tree fell on it during a bad storm.

This next picture is the last for this post and shows the route between Calton Lees and Rowsley.

Whilst this is the last picture for this post its not the last of the walk. In the next post I will show you some of the interesting things I saw along the way so I hope you will join me another so I can share them with you.

Moscar - Rowsley

2010-03-26T20:24:00.002Z

Tomorrow I'm off on another walk, as is the norm for this time of year the length of the walk has been extended over any previous ones under taken this year although the walk itself is easy and mostly on a good path and with lots of interesting things to see. This walk is not a round trip as vicki is dropping me off and picking me up later in the day. For those interested part of the route card and some details of the walk are printed below.

[Click to enlarge]

Edale, Hollins Cross, Kinderscout.

2010-03-20T13:29:00.016Z

Here are some of the pictures from last Saturdays walk. This walk was around twelve miles in length measured by my satnav, a wonderful thing not only for showing the way but also for gathering data about the walk. I can remember when I first started walking for pleasure distances had to be calculated using a piece of thread and then I got hi-tec and bought a little wheel thing that you pushed around the map trying to follow the route. I also had a thing that I clipped to my belt that was supposed to caculate the distance by how many steps you took but what that didn't take in to account that no step was ever the same length so that was never to be relied on. You're lucky now though because when I say I walked however many miles we can be pretty sure thats how far a did walk and not a rough guess. Another very useful addition to navigation is 'Mapyx Quo' GB mapping software, the application is free but you buy the maps that you need which I think are reasonably priced compared to the paper versions. By using this software you know before you start lots of data about the walk that you are to undertake like for instance last week the minimum altitude of the walk was 765 ft and the max was 1986.5 ft the average altitude being 1500 ft. Total ascent was 2377ft. I spent 5.97 miles climbing, 5.46 miles descending and 0.61 miles of level walking. When I've planned my route I can then download it to my Garmin satnav and also print off a route card to leave with someone in case something goes wrong and they have to send out a search party.

Anyway here are the pictures from the walk which was mostly around Edale taking in Mam Tor and part of Kinder Scout. If you're looking for a peaceful walk with few people I suggest you take a day trip by bus to London as you are sure to find more solitude there than you will on this walk. Even on a cold March day the place was full of people most of whom didn't even seem like they want to be there. For these reasons I rarely venture near Kinder Scout these days but as you can see from the above data its good for putting ascent and descent on your legs.

[Most pictures will enlarge when clicked on]

Edale Village

Crossing the valley

The ridge walk to Mam Tor

Rushup Edge

View from Rushup Edge
Looking towards Jacob's Ladder from Kinder Scout
As you can see from this picture one is never short of company
Looking down on Edale from the top of Grindsbrook, almost at the end of the walk.

Saturday's Route Card

2010-03-10T20:38:00.003Z

On Saturday I'm planing on going for a walk, below is the route card giving details of my intended route.

[Click the pic to enlarge]

Heading off in to the sunset.

2010-03-08T21:03:00.001Z

The hiking gardener and misunderstood dog heading off in to the sunset.

Lockerbrook, Alport Castles, Derwent Reserviors

2010-03-01T19:47:00.017Z

Here are some pictures from the walk I under took last Saturday. This walk is a pleasant and easy walk with plenty of variety packed in to it's eleven and a half miles. It's based around the Lockerbrook, Alport Castles and the Derwent reserviors, if anyone would like more detail just ask and I will do all I can to help you.

The only real climb of the day from Fairholmes car park to Lockerbrook.
Time for a rest and a look back through the trees.

A small waterfall and watering hole near Lockerbrook Farm.

Heading over Rowlee Pasture things became quite wintery.

Could this be 'Sasquatch'?

A little shelter should the weather turn bad.
Dropping down through the trees in to the valley.

A woodland stream.

The ice covered Howden Reservior.

An ice circle
Foot bridge at Slippery Stones, always a good place to take a break.
The long road home.
Water flowing over the Derwent Dam.
The car park is just a few hundread yards from here.

Good Idea.

2009-08-12T22:08:00.005Z

Hello everyone,

You won't have seen me on here for a while as I haven't been doing any walking this year, I'm having a gap year LOL! I know, I'm supposed to have had it when I was younger but I didn't so I'm haivng it now - okay?

Actually I'm only writing this because Vicki came up with a good idea, she suggested the other night that I walk across England. Well that sounds great thought I, but then it always does while you're sitting on the couch, even the planning is fun but the night before you're due to embark on your carefully planned adventure you suddenly realise you forgot something, its not easy walking non stop for two whole weeks carrying your home on your back. Its no surprise why snails move so slow, its cos they're knackered.

Anyway I will keep you posted on what happens next - if anything.

Margery Hill Walk.

2008-08-02T18:52:00.023Z

This is a pretty easy route to follow having Abbey Brook and then the edge along Margery Hill on your left for most of the way and then the Howden and Derwent reservoirs to your right on the return journey.

There are no really hard climbs, I think the most physical part being between the junction with the Smallfield Path and the Margery Hill Edge where it can be boggy, it could also be easy to stray of the way in bad visibility but with the waypoints provided at the end of this post you should have no trouble following the route, especially with a GPS. All grid references were taken during the walk and not from a map so should be spot on accurate. I’ve used the 10 numbers given to me by my GPS but if you prefer to use the usual 6 numbers just omit numbers 4,5,9 and 10 and you will be left with the usual 6 number grid reference.

If anyone does use this post to walk the route I would love to hear how it goes for you. The pictures included are to highlight parts of the route rather than the best views along the way so don’t go thinking I showed you everything there is to see.

Date
26th July 2008

Distance
12.5 miles

Time Taken
7 hrs 8 mins

Moving Time
3 hrs 36 mins

Derwent Dam - SK 17428 89881

Approaching Bradfield Path - SK 17353 90905

Approaching Abbey Brook Path - SK 17353 90905
Path splits through the gate, (keep left) - SK 17251 91967

1st stream crossing - SK 17762 92020

Approaching 2nd stream crossing - SK 18497 92233

Nearing Junction with Lost Lad Path - SK 19698 92370

Junction with Smallfield path - SK 20762 93420

Margery Hill Edge 1 - SK 18941 94736

Way Point 4 - SK 17683 95453

Approaching Slippery Stones - SK 16957 95243

Approaching the 1st Coldside Gate - SK 17230 94355

Fairholmes - SK 17255 89287
Derwent Dam - SK 17428 89881
Bradfield Path - SK 17353 90905
Abbey Brook Path - SK 17353 90905
Path splits (keep left) - SK 17251 91967

1st stream crossing - SK 17762 92020

2nd stream crossing - SK 18497 92233
Junction with Lost Lad Path - SK 19698 92370
4th stream crossing - SK 20111 92323
Junction with Back Tor path - SK 20760 93197
Junction with Smallfield path - SK 20762 93420
Way Point 1 - SK 19828 94120
Way Point 2 - SK 19457 94450
Way Point 3 - SK 19119 94590
Margery Hill Edge 1 - SK 18941 94736
Margery Hill Edge 2 - SK 18715 95722
Junction with Slippery Stones path - SK 18567 96058
Path To Slippery Stones - SK 18306 95880
Way Point 4 - SK 17683 95453
Way Point 5 - SK 17338 95326
Slippery Stones - SK 16957 95243
1st Coldside Gate - SK 17230 94355
Howden Clough Path - SK 17410 93188
Howden Dam - SK 17134 92398
Abbey Brook Path - SK 17065 91933
Bradfield Path - SK 17353 90905
Derwent Dam - SK 17428 89881
Fairholmes - SK 17255 89287

Day Seven

2008-07-11T20:10:00.001Z

Day seven on the Pennine Wet was WET! If anyone thought this was going to be a picnic they were wrong, there are no teddy bears around here. This is trial by water, day in, day out. There is nothing I have with me that isn't wet by some degree. Even my boots gave up the fight today which was understandable because for the whole 20 miles of todays walk one or the other of them has been up to the ankle in mud and water. It hasn't stopped raining for one minute since I set off to the time of writing this. I've seen no one all day apart from the family guy sticking his head out of his tent when I left thiis morning, then when I got here a kind lady in the caravan next to my tent made me a cup of tea.Unfortunately I have to go now as the battery is nearly out on my PDA. There will be no more updates for a few days now until Vicki returns home. Bob.

Day Six

2008-07-10T20:08:00.000Z

Day six on the Pennine Way was wet(just for a change) LOL! I climbed Great Shunner Fell in very heavy rain driven by a strong cold wind, thankfully the rain eased in the afternoon on the walk to Keld and then on to the Tan Hill Inn. The climb up Great Shunner Fell was a pretty desperate affair as you can imagine with no reward of a view of any kind on reaching the summit. I phoned home then got on my way as I was frozen by the wind blowing through my wet clothes. Once through Thwaite the weather started to pick up and continued to improve for the reat of the day and tonight is quite pleasent. Because of the weather and everything being soaking wet I ask at the inn what accommodation they had to offer, I felt the price they were askng for a room was a bit much and was going to take a bunk in the bunk house but then I decided to give myself a break for a night so now I'm living it up in my own room in the inn. I haven't bothered going down for a meal, mostly because my clothes are half rotten after nearly a week of being wet, also I think I probably spent enough on the room so I've just had my camping food in my room. Also last night after writing my report to you I went for another pint of cider which was very good, I was about to return to my tent when this guy came in and started talking to me about my walk, he seemed quite taken by what I was doing and called his wife in to come and meet me. He then saw my glass was empty and bought me another drink and he and his wife joined me and we had several more drinks and didn't get back to my tent until gone ten. They were also staying in a tent near to mine but I didn't get to see them this morning before I left. Today I arrived here at the same time as the dutch lad I met the other day so I had a drink with him before he went on his way, I don't expect to see him again as he will be a way in front of me now. A short while ago I saw the man with the two boys outside the inn, not sure if they're in their tent or the bunkhouse, I haven't seen them to speak to for a couple of days now. I will be a bit later setting off tomorrow as they don't start breakfast until 8 and I'm usually getting away by that time but you can't have everything, at least I will start the day with everything dry.

Day Five

2008-07-09T20:07:00.000Z

Day five on the Pennine (not so) Wet has been much better, the best day so far. I'm feeling much stronger now and so I'm able to push on for several miles at a time without needing to take a break.Today I could have lingered as the walking was good as was the weather but everyone I met told me this wasn't going to stay this way so I pressed on in the hope that I could beat the rain. I was intending to stay the night at Hawes but decided to go o couple of miles further to Hardraw. This meant me missing out on fish and chips but I made up for ir when I got here by having a pint of cider, I think after the days walk I enjoyed the cider more than I would the chips anyway. I'm camped up at the back of the pub so I think I may pop back for another one before I turn in for the night. I arrived here just in time to beat the rain, I got my tent up and went to look at the highest waterfall in England which is in the grounds of the pub, by the time I got back it was spitting with rain, now its throwing it down but I don't mind as long as its stopped by the morning.I spent quite awhile walking with a Dutch man today, he too is walking alone so I think it was nice for us both to have some company. I've not seen the man and two boys today, they were in the same camp as me last night and were till there when I left this morniing.So tonight I'm camped near to the highest waterfall in England and with luck tomorrow night I will be camped next to the highest pub in England.

Day Four

2008-07-08T20:05:00.000Z

Day four on the Pennine Wet has been wet! Everyday so far has been wet but today it made a special effort. It showered all night so when I woke and it was dry I went to get packed up as quick ass I could before it started again but I was too late so went back in my tent to sit it out but it didn't stop so oit got to the point where I pressed on regardless or stayed put all day, so I pressed on.The da started with a big climb to the top of Malham Cove follwed by two more big climbs over Fountains Fell and then Penyghent. Fountains Fell was just a hard slog in driving rain, the wind was bitterly cold when I reached the top. By now the rain had found its way in to everywhere so to stop long on the top would have seen me perish from the cold so after phoning Vicki I pushed on back down and then up to Penyghent, at times a near vertical climb in heavy rain and strong wind. All this climbing was for no other reason than to get to my destination because all around there was heavy grey damp mist so no views to be had of any kind. I did manage to take a few pics but I don't know what they will turn out like as the camera was under restricted use because of the rain.When I went to pay for the site tonight the man at the farm seemed to think I'd been here before. He is right of course but he must either be thinking of someone else or have a really great memory because it was over 20 years since I stayed here, I didn't shatter his memories though.I had some bad news today, it seems that Vicki's boss can't manage without her all of next week so our holiday together is to be cut short which is a bit disappointing.If there was one word to sum up todays walking I would say that word is GREY. Its been draining of both body and mind, Its all part of the experience though.

Day Three

2008-07-07T20:03:00.000Z

Day three on the Pennine Way has been wet, so there is nothing new to report there. Today its been showers more than persistant rain, this meant putting on waterproofs and taking them off on a regular basis until I got fed up and took shelter if there was any. I usually managed to find a tree to hide behind or a bridge to hide under and if it wasn't raining too hard I just ignored it as the heat from my body soon dried it from my clothes.I've seen the guy with his son's a couple of times today, they travel faster than me so we tend to keep passing each other along the way, we even had a little joke this afternoon, I'd always seen him as an over serious person up to then. I think they must have found a different campsite to me because they aren't on this one.Today the way has been mostly across farm land as I crossed the Aire Gap. My legs are starting to feel much stronger, most hills I can plod up now without needing to keep taking a breather. The rucksac is the worst problem at the moment as it weighs really heavt at times, I think some of that is because of all the water in everything. I had to pack my tent up wet this morning so that was extra weight to start with.I managed tp phone home this morning and got a nice surprise. As you know Vicki is coming to spend the weekend with me, the good news is that she is now going to be staying the whole week with me. I will carry on the walk of course but instead of spending everynight on my own in this stupid little tent I will spend it with Vicki in a B&B. The bad news for you of course is that she won't be able to keep you posted on my progress. Never mind I willl be able to do it when I get back.As I arrived in Malham tonight I was approached by three young giirls looking for the campsite, after consulting my map I Ipointed them in the right direction before setting off there myself, from the noise they are making it seems they have bags of energy left.

Day Two

2008-07-06T20:00:00.000Z

My second day on The Pennine Way has been wet. It didn't rain as hard as yesterday but its rained for longer and there has also been thunderstorms.I left camp this morning ar 8 just after the guy from Scotland left, he was heading in the opposite direction to me so I won't be seeing him again. I didn't see the man with the two boys untill later in the day, they passed me and then I repassed them and met up again later at the place we are camped at tonight, They aren't very talkative. I've not seen anything of the boy from London since last night.Today has been spent walking through Bronte country first with a visit to Top Withens and then the way went past Pondon Hall which is reputed to be 'Thrushcross Grange' from the book Wuthering Heights. I'm finding theh pack is still weighing heavy, inparticular on my shoulders and I can feel all the muscles in my legs but hopefully this will improve with time.Tonight I'm camped on someones front lawn along with the man and boys plus another guy who is travelling in the other direction.Tomorrow promises to be a bitg easer day which will take me to Malham, hopefully the weather will also be better as everything is damp and this is also adding to the weight of the pack I'm sure.I'm going to make some hot chocolate and then get off to bed ready for another early start tomorrow.

2008-07-05T20:36:00.001Z

Well day one on the pennine wet has been - WET! This morning was the worst, it came on just after crossing the M62 and it didn't stop until after Stoodly Pike, it was real mans rain too, I managed to keep pretty dry though. I met a man who told me it would get better later, he wasn't a weather guru or anything, the truth was it just couldn't get worse, unless it came on to snow. Anyway it did pick up later and even with the way the weather was I enjoyed it.My boots are working out okay, no blisters or sore feet. I got to the camp at 4PM, they haven't charged me for camping here but they have a little farm shop so I bought some beer and chocolate.I just got my tent up and someone else came to camp next top me, he is going the opposite way to me though.Since then another lad has come plus an older man with two boys.I was pretty glad to get here as I was beginning to tire, I don't think it helped with all the water soaking in to everything also I was a bit tired anyway from the early start, I am going to get an early night tonight as there isn't much to do.

2008-07-05T20:36:00.000Z

Distances.

2008-07-02T21:13:00.004Z

Tonight I'm going to list the mileage and dates to the different sections of my walk along the Pennine Way. I hope to keep Vicki posted as to my progress and in turn if she has time she will let those of you who are interested know how things are going so I hope some of you will visit me along the way and even add the odd comment too as I'm sure it will be a great encouragement to me, or better still email me direct as I can recieve emails on my phone. You will find my address in my profile, just click on the word 'email' or write to robertharrison3@yahoo.co.uk

First of all I will just point out that because I want to spend a day with Vicki and also the first part of the walk is close to my home and so I walk it regularly I'm starting my journey along the Pennine Way at the 31 mile mark.

The walk will start on the morning of the 5th July and will be 13 miles in length which will take me to Colden at 44 miles

6th July will be 17 miles and take me as far as Lothersdale at 61 miles.

7th July will be a bit shorter at 16 miles and this will take me Malham, a place I always look forward to visiting.

8th July will be 15 miles and will take me to Horton In Ribblesdale at 92 miles.

9th July will be an easy day of just 14 miles taking me to the market town of Hawes.

10th July will be the longest day so far at 19 miles and this will take me to the Tan Hill Inn which is supposed to be the highest inn in England, the pitch is behind the pub so not far to stagger back to the tent, we will be at 124 miles by this point.

11th July will be an even longer day than yesterday at 20 miles and this will take us to 144 miles and the village of Holwick.

12th July will be 18 miles and will take us to 162 miles and the village of Dufton which is where I am to meet Vicki that evening. There will be no camping tonight as we have a B&B booked. This day will be a good day provided the weather is okay because I know from past experience that the walk will be full of interest.

13th is a day off.

14th July is a very short day of 10 miles and will take to the Greggs Hut and my first wild pitch of the walk

15th July will be 17 miles and will take me to Slaggyford at 189 miles.

16th July is another day of 17 miles and during this day I will reach Hadrians wall so although the day will start a bit dull it will end with great interest, tonights camp will be below the wall at a place called Once Brewed at 206 miles.

17th July will be 19 miles in length taking me to the small town of Bellingham.

18th July will be the longest day of the walk at 21 miles and this will take me to the Roman camp at Chew Green on the border between England and Scotland, my second wild pitch of the walk at 246 miles.

19th July 16 mlies taking me to just beyond the Cheviot Hill which again will be a wild pitch at 262 miles.

20th July and the last day of the walk will be just 8 miles to Kirk Yetholm at 270 miles.
All distances are based on those given in A Wainwright's 'Pennine Way Companion' guide book, this is the guide book I will be using along the way.

While I am away Vicki will post updates to my other blog only which is:

http://the-estate-gardeners-diary.blogspot.com/

What I Carry.

2008-07-01T18:13:00.000Z

To night I'm going to show you what I will have to carry with me when I go for my walk next week. I've numbered each item to make them easy to identify, you may need to click the picture and enlarge it to see the numbers more clearly though.

1 Rucksack

2 Sleeping bag - this is my down filled bag, I have a fleece one which is a bit lighter and would probably be good enough for this time of year but last week we had some quite cool nights so I thought I wouldn't risk it as there is nothing worse than lying awake because you're cold.

3 This is my sleeping mat, again it is the heavier of the two that I have but by far the more comfortable so I will suffer the extra weight.

4 Is my home made Yew walking pole. I do have a proper alloy walking pole but don't find it as nice to work with.

5 Is my tent.

6 Are the tent poles in their bag and wrapped in some plastic. I have this plastic sheet to put under the ground sheet of the tent just as a precaution really as the ground sheet on light weight tents aren't very thick.

7 Is just a little pouch with headache pills and bandaids and things that I might need but usually don't - as long as I take the pouch.

8 Three spare gas canisters for the stove.

9 Are my waterproofs, coat, trousers, gaiters, and gore-tex inner boots which I shouldn't need if my new boots do what it says on the tin. I'm not taking a chance on that though as wet feet are very bad and wet socks even worse when you have no way of drying them. With this set up I've crossed rivers that have been knee deep and still kept everything dry so I know it works.10 Is enough food for the week, that includes the green pouch below the packets with the number

10 on it.

11 Maps and guide books.

12 Cooker and its carrying bag. I just use a basic camping Gaz cooker. There are probably better these days but it still works and has not let me down or anything in all the years I've had it plus I still have four new gas canisters so why swap it yet.

13 Is the pan for boiling water, thats the only cooking I will do, a blue plastic mug, a plastic bottle with powered tea or chocolate, not decided which yet. I don't carry milk so whatever I take will have to be ready to go by just adding water. There is also a yellow plastic bowl in the picture but I don't think I need that as you can eat the food straight from the pouch.

14 Water carriers, a plastic water bottle which I will carry full during the day to drink from and a water bag that will only be used in camp unless the weather is hot and I need to carry more water during the day in which case I will put a drop in the bag, you have to be careful how you pack it though as it could easily puncture.

The only other things that I will carry that aren't in the picture is a wallet with some beer money, my new satnav, camera and mobile phone. At that the pack weighs in at 40 pounds, I know the army carries more but I'm not on a route march so I don't want to go any higher than that if I can help it. With the lighter mat and sleeping bag I could probably have kept it down to around 36 pounds. My new boots are over a pound lighter than my old ones and its said that a pound on the foot is equal to on the back so I reckon at that rate I will be jogging the Pennine Way.

The Pennine Way (Daily Stages).

2008-06-16T20:39:00.000Z

Hello everyone, I haven't posted for a while, mostly because I've been busy planning my walk which is due to start on the 5th July and finish on the 20th. I got my pitch lists (places along the way where I can pitch my tent) from the backpackers club so I think I now have all the daily stages planned out. The longest day being 21 miles (3 days from the end) and the shortest and last day just 8 miles, all the rest being somewhere in between but mosly around 16 miles which will be okay. Vicki is coming to join me on the weekend in the middle of the walk and I will have the Sunday off and we will go round and visit a few places and have dinner out and what have you. I've given my gear a quick check over to make sure everything is that and working that I will be taking with me, I have it packed in my rucksack and so far it weighs in at 35lbs or 16kgs. It would be nice if I could keep it at that but there are a few things still to be added. That weight includes a weeks food plus a bottle of water so the more I eat the lighter it will become.

Kinder Scout 10th May '08.

2008-05-12T17:53:00.009Z

Here are a few pictures from my walk on Saturday, I call it a walk which I suppose it was but it was not like any walk I've been on for a long time. It was never meant to be easy as I'm trying to build myself up for the walk in July. But the whole day got messed up right from the start. I was parked up for an hour on the way to Edale because the police had the road blocked because of an accident so that made me late getting started. Then, although you wouldn't think so from looking at the pictures, it was very warm and humid, just the slightest movement had me sweating buckets so by the time I'd climbed on to the top of Kinder Scout it was pretty obvious I hadn't brought enough water with me so in the end I had to cut short my planned route and I was just about done in by the time I got back to the car having only completed 12 miles, it felt like twice as many.

Edale Village with Kinder Scout beyond.

An interesting water feature at the visitor centre.The footbridge out of the village.

The path to the Kinder plateau.

Kinder Downfall, this is where the river
Kinder flows over the edge of the plateau.

A view along the northern edge of Kinder Scout.

Bob's short cut home, not for the faint hearted or weak of knees. When it became apparent that I wasn't able to complete my planned route I decided to cut straight across the plateau which is full of 15 feet deep gullys, bogs and thick heather, I'm not really sure how much of a short cut it was in the end, it was shorter but far from easy. So some time soon I need to go back and try again because if I can't do better than this I wouldn't feel confident about undertaking my long walk.

I joined The Pennine Way Association.

2008-04-13T17:05:00.006Z

Hello everyone, thanks for all your best wishes with regard to me walking the Pennine Way. Jeanette and Jim asked how long I am planning to take. I haven't actually worked that out yet, I intend to take 2 weeks off work which will give me 16 days to play with which would be just about enough time to allow me to do the whole thing in one go which is what I would like to do but I don't want it to be a route march, I want to enjoy it so as the first part of the way is not far from where I live I might do a couple of legs one weekend before hand which would then give me 18 days to complete the whole walk and I think that would be plenty if everything works out okay. I think I'm more or less committed to camping, I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand it would be nice to carry a lighter pack and stay in a proper bed everynight but on the other hand a tent does make you more flexible and independant and then of course there is the cost, its much cheaper to camp. Although having said that I may need to buy a new tent as the one I have is all patched up which is okay for a one night stand but I don't want something thats going to fall to pieces on me when I'm doing a walk like that. Anyway I will have to see about that sometime. So really I'm looking to do it all in about 17 or 18 days, the main part of it being done in a two week stint in July.

Today I sent for the accommodation list published by the Pennine Way Association, in fact I went and joined the association because it was almost as cheap to join for the year as it was to just buy the list and if you join you get the list for free plus other bits and bobs too. so when that comes through I will have a better idea of what my plans are as a lot of the planning revolves around where you are going to be able to stay each night. I will keep you all posted on that as it happens.

Bob.

Pennine Way Plans

2008-04-09T19:21:00.003Z

As some of you will know Bob has been dropping hints of a little project he has lined up for this summer. Well now is the time to let you all in on the secret, not that its really a secret. Anyway I plan to walk the Pennine Way. Here are a couple of maps showing the route the way takes through England and in to Scotland, as you can tell I plan to be walking from south to north. Below the maps is a description of the walk which I didn't write myself but took from the website of the link at the bottom of this page.

This, as someone once said, is the Big One.

The Pennine Way is generally regarded as the toughest, most demanding, and most challenging long-distance walk in Britain. That's true enough, but it's something more than that. It's adventurous, exciting and rewarding as well. There is nothing technically difficult about the Pennine Way - you won't find yourself dangling off ropes, clinging to rock faces or staring down terrifying abysses, and there are really only three ascents worthy of special mention. The challenge is, essentially, a mental and a logistical one. Your adversaries on this walk are the terrain, the climate and the awesome sense of loneliness.
Many people imagine that the Pennine Way must be some ancient monument; a route travelled by monks or pilgrims, or a medieval trade corridor to Scotland, or an invention of the Romans. In fact it's almost a modern invention, though it encompasses elements of all the above. It was concieved in the early 1930's by a journalist named Tom Stephenson who, enthused by tales of the Appalachian Way in America, suggested a route of equivalent signifivance in Britain. The Pennines were an obvious choice - the so-called "backbone of England", they form a virtually unbroken spine of high moorland and bleak, empty hill country along the watershed between the east and west coasts, running for some 250 miles from the Trent valley to the Carlisle-Newcastle Gap. Stephenson described a route that would traverse these hills from south to north, encompassing their wide open spaces, their scenic highlights, their moods and their challenges. He had penned many such articles and this one might well have gone unremarked, but it caught a national mood. This was a time of economic depression and the working men of the northern industrial towns were beginning to seek out these wild, empty moorlands as a safety valve, a spiritual escape. Hiking and cycling clubs set out every Sunday from Manchester, from Leeds, from Sheffield and from each and every major town, to enjoy the uplifting experience of these high, empty lands. Yet vast tracts of these moors were inaccessible, enclosed by landowners and guarded by their gamekeepers, the preserve of the hunting and shooting fraternity. Public demand for access became overwhelming and culminated in a celebrated mass trespass of Kinder Scout in Derbyshire.
Officialdom moved painfully slowly. A Pennine Way association was formed and drew up detailed plans for the route. The second world war intervened, but as part of the reforming zeal that followed the new Government set in process a wholesale review of land use and outdoor recreation, leading in 1948 to the National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act. A body known as the Countryside Commission was set up to oversee these developments and the Pennine Way Society's plans were taken up by the Commission. Although much of the proposed route already enjoyed legal public access the rest had to be opened up by negotiation with landowners and due legal process, and it wasn't until 1965 that the Pennine Way was officially opened, by the same Tom Stephenson (by then the secretary of the Ramblers' Association) at a ceremony at Malham, Yorkshire.
The name "Pennine Way" is a bit of a misnomer because the route carries on beyond the northern limit of the Pennines, crossing Hadrian's Wall and traversing half the Cheviot ridge before terminating in the Scottish border village of Kirk Yetholm. But the name "Most Of The Pennines And About Half Of The Cheviots Way", which would be technically correct, doesn't exactly scan. The name stands accepted as the description for Britain's finest outdoor experience, this 267-mile walk from the Derbyshire Peak District to Scotland.
The route starts with one of its toughest sections, the traverse of the Dark Peak - the peat moorlands of Kinder Scout, Bleaklow and Black Hill. Be warned that this terrain is very boggy and in bad weather it is unpleasant at best and hazardous at worst. North of the Dark Peak you come to waterworks country and progress is fast on rough tracks beside silent, brooding reservoirs, with impressive views of Greater Manchester and much of Lancashire to your left. You come down to the Calder valley at Hebden Bridge and enjoy the wooded river valleys hereabouts before climbing out over the Haworth moors, the so-called Bronte country. Ahead of you now is the county of North Yorkshire and the gentler farming country of the Aire gap. Beyond Thornton in Craven you cross into the Yorkshire Dales national park and enter the remarkable limestone scenery of Malhamdale before climbing up over Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent, the first major hills of the Way, to come to the ancient drove roads connecting Horton-in-Ribblesdale with the market town of Hawes. Another summit, that of Great Shunner Fell, is crossed to reach the serene beauty of Swaledale. From here the Way winds northwards to Tan Hill, England's highest pub on the borders of Yorkshire, Cumbria and Durham, and then crosses Sleightholme moor to the Stainmore gap. More lonely moors lay ahead before Teesdale is reached, and a day is spent in the company of one of Northern England's liveliest and most scenic river valleys.
From Langdon Beck the Pennine Way turns westwards to cross the vast emptiness of Stainmore common, coming down for the first time on the western side of the Pennines at Dufton, in the Eden valley. A long day now lies in store, the 21-mile traverse of the Cross Fell and its satellites, the highest tops of the Pennines, to reach the town of Alston on the South Tyne. From Alston the Way follows the general line of the Maiden Way, an old Roman road, to reach Hadrian's Wall, the 2000 year-old frontier of the former Roman empire. Eleven miles of Wall is traversed, as far as the fort at Housteads, before the Way leaves the Pennines proper and strikes out across the Northumberland Forest Park to Bellingham on the North Tyne. A further day of lonely moors and forests brings you to the forestry village of Byrness.
Loins must be well girded now, for the final 29 miles of the Way lays along the spine of the Cheviot hills, which mark the border between England and Scotland. There is no habitation. You must either come off the ridge at the Border Gate, having arranged transportation from the remote farm of Cocklawfoot, or you must take a tent with you and camp wild at Davidson's Linn. There are also two emergency shelter huts in which you can sleep rough. The only other alternative is to attempt to walk the whole 29 miles in one day, an arduous journey which is likely to take 15 hours. But, once you drag yourself up the last hill and see the border village of Kirk Yetholm below you in the valley of Bowmont Water, you know that it's all been worthwhile.
LogisticsIf you do the whole route in one go then allow three weeks. It can be done in two but you'll knock yourself up and you'll see nothing. Backpacking - taking your tent, sleeping bag, stove and food with you - is fun but is only for the super fit. The total ascent along the Way is about 32,000 feet and you'll know all about it with a heavy pack.
There are plenty of places to stay along the route - the provision of accommodation has become a growth industry. Most of the recognised overnight stops have youth hostels and there is also a good deal of B&B at local farmhouses. If you prefer to tackle the Way as a series of day walks then there are a number of nearby towns with good public transport links to the Way - Glossop, Skipton, Huddersfield, Barnard Castle, Appleby and Hexham, to name but several. Indeed, something like half the route can easily be reached by train from Leeds or Manchester. But to tackle some sections you'll have to carry your belongings with you or stump up expensive taxi fares. Once you get to the Cheviots there is little choice but to spend a night out in the wild.
On the Pennines, more than anywhere else you've walked so far if you've been following the End-to-End, you need to be well prepared. Wear proper walking boots, take warm and waterproof clothing, and have a 1:25000 scale map and a compass with you. If you can get away with walking the entire 267 miles without needing at least the reassurance of a compass bearing somewhere, you'll be extraordinarily lucky. And remember that you're going to get filthy. The biggest single feature of the Pennine Way is mud. Lots of it. And weather. Horizontal rain, winds that go straight through you, hill fogs that shut out the world for days.

http://www.jbutler.org.uk/e2e/pw/index.shtml

A Blizzard In April.

2008-04-07T19:09:00.006Z

As some of you will probably have noticed we haven't done much walking of late so with that and a little project I have in mind for the summer which I will tell you about shortly I decided that it was time to do some regular walking trips. We couldn't have timed it better because no sooner did I have my boots on and were ready to leave and it started to snow. By the time we got on to the hill it was like a mini blizzard and soon everywhere was white over with snow. For me this was the best part of the day which the snow being driven side ways across the hill by a biting cold wind. It made the going quite hard at times. After about an hour though it gradually eased off and we were able to see more of our surrounding.Here you can see Tommy looking ahead for a place to stop for lunch, I told him there was another mile to go, I knew of a nice place in the shelter of a high wall. We had the place to ourselves for a while, and even then I wasn't aware we had company until Tommy suddenly started his 'Hound Of The Baskervilles' impression. I looked to see what the problem was and saw this guy looking around the end of the wall. By now Tom was in full swing and I just managed to grab his tail and pull him back. The guy asked if he was okay, meaning Tommy. I assured him he was fine, its just that people wearing hoods frighten him. The guy quickly pulled off his hood prefering to risk frostbite to dogbite. He walked by gingerly trying to make friends with Tom who was having none of it for some reason - well, not until he saw the guy getting out his sandwiches and then he wanted to go and make friends with him. I told him it was too late, its first impressions that count and he's blown it on that score. He's such a misunderstood dog!
After lunch we dropped down off the hill and made our way to the head of the dam and the old packhorse bridge at slippery stones. As you can see from the writing below this bridge used to be somewhere else. Long ago before they built the three reservoirs there used to be a couple of villages in the valley, both were covered when the reservoirs were flooded but they removed this bridge and built it at the head of he reservoirs and now it does a good job of making a crossing for the many people who travel this way.

We stopped here for a while for Tom to have a little paddle in the river, don;t ask me how he didn't get cold feet. He absolutely loved it though and in the end I had to drag him away.

From here it was an easy four mile walk back to the car near the Derwent Dam wall which you can see in the picture below.

If anyone wants any information on this walk or any other you read about in this blog please don't be afraid to ask.

Bob.

On Vacation - YIPPEE!!!!!

2007-11-09T19:45:00.000Z

Bob and Tom will see you all in a week or so, take care. By the way, sorry I didn't get to finish off the walk but you know how it is when you're going away.
Bob.

The Estate Gardeners Diary Blogspot.

2007-11-04T21:31:00.000Z

Someone has pointed out to me that they didn't realise I was still posting to 'the estate gardeners diary' well I am, but with no pics of the gardens though. The address is still the same, http://the-estate-gardeners-diary.blogspot.com/ I've just changed the name. I hope to do a bit more with it after my hols or when I finish the piece about my journey along the West Highland Way.
Bob.

West Highland Way. (Note).

2007-10-16T23:45:00.000Z

This story is about my walk along the West Highland Way, Scotland back in 1990. The journey took me over 100 miles from the outskirts of Glasgow to Spean Bridge. The offical way ends at Fort William but I had some time to spare so extended the walk. Its going to be posted in several parts over the coming weeks so if its not all there when you visit pop back in a couple of days for the next instalment which unlike normal will follow on from the bottom of the last post, this is because people coming along at a later date would end up reading the last part first if you see what I mean. So be sure to keep on scrolling down as each new part will follow on from the last.

West Highland Way (Part One).

2007-10-16T23:26:00.000Z

I set off from Milngarvie on the outskirts of Glasgow at 10 am on Saturday the 22nd of December 1990. It was a pleasant autumn morning, quite mild and sunny, a good day for starting a walk.

Vicki, Fallon and myself at the start of the 'West Highland Way'.

To soften the blow of being dumped alone in a strange place, my family along with friends Vera and Pearl accompanied me as far as the first muddy puddle where they made their excuses, said their goodbyes before dumping me alone in a strange place!

Vera and Pearl.

I’d walked for no more than thirty yards when from behind I heard the cries of ‘daddy, daddy’ from Fallon. I turned to see her running after me. I thought I’d managed to get away without any crying but this was obviously not to be. There were enough tears around now to start my very own muddy puddle and I hasten to add that they were all Fallon’s, I’m a man and men don’t cry, they prefer instead to choke on the enormous lumps in their throats. After a lots of hugs and kisses that did nothing at all to take away the pain of parting for a whole week, I went on me way.

Looking back to Milngarvie.

Soon after leaving Milngarvie (pronounced something like ‘mul-guy’) and being English that’s probably not quite right but its probably closer than you were trying to say it! Anyway as I was saying the way was no through Mugdock Country Park. This turned out to be a fairly easy walk through woodland on a good path. Nothing is ever very easy about starting a long walk carrying everything I needed on my back for a whole week. Well almost everything, the only thing I needed to acquire along the way was fresh water. Accommodation, food and entertainment along with a few other essentials were all packed snugly in to my backpack.

The way through Mugdock Wood.

The way eventually came to Carbeth Loch which it followed for away until extensive views north opened out before me. On the horizon I could easily see Ben Lomond. It was also possible to pick out the place I hoped to reach by nightfall tonight. At first it felt good to see my destination so early in the day, it made it seem like I didn’t have far to go but as the hours ticked by and the countryside slipped past the end when it was visible in the distance hardly seemed any closer. I never find the start of any such journey easy. I miss my family, the going is always hard due to the pack and the fact that my body is never up to the challenge. There is a considerable amount of concentration needed just to keep from getting lost which can be a real setback when every step is a labour, the last thing you want to do is cover the same ground twice so much attention to map reading and guide book following is very important. The objective is to be looking for landmarks and know where you are at all times. If the map and the landscape around you don’t gel then stop because it’s more likely to be you that’s wrong and you need to find out why.

Carbeth Loch.

Tonights camp is in centre of picture on far hill.

After lunch at Dumgoyach Hill – one of the remnant volcanoes from which the Clyde Plateau lavas emerged – the way was now mostly along a disused railway track to Drymen (pronounced dim-men). The old track was a blaze of colour from the rose hips and hawthorn berries which hung from their branches like they were dripping blood. The going underfoot was not so pretty though, most of the way being wet and muddy.

Dumgoyach Hill.
Path along disused railway line to Drymen.

Blood red berries.

The biggest surprise of the railway journey, and perhaps even the whole day came after seven and a half miles. On the top of a raised brick manhole was a piece of paper covered in bold red writing. Being a nosey sort of person I just had to take a closer look. It’s a good thing I did too…

West Highland Way (Part Two).

2007-10-16T22:30:00.000Z

On the paper were the words “Daddy love you, Fallon”. What a pleasant surprise, I could have cried – but I’m a man etc, etc…

The first sight of Loch Lomond.

By Drymen I was feeling tired but worst of all my hips were getting sore where the hip belt of the rucksack sat. Two miles further and my legs joined in the protest and began to ache in a big way. The first day is never easy but I’m sure it was made worse because for one reason or another I hadn’t put in the mileage before hand. I was looking forward to the nights pitch, a concessionary pitch provided by the Forestry Commission. It wasn’t love at first sight of my first campsite along the West Highland Way. The site was a small clearing of uneven ground covered in vegetation and rotting tree stumps. It was puzzling as to why they should choose this as a place to pitch tents. During the walk through the forest from Drymen I’d been tempted by several places far better than this. But don’t think for one moment I’m complaining – I’m not. Apart from the fact that beggars can’t be choosers I’ve heard it said that silence is golden. If this is so, then that night I was a millionaire. Everything was natural except for the forest and my belongings.

Saturday nights camp. 16 miles.

I quickly – well, as quickly as my now feeble body would allow – got to work on the usual camp chores. To relaxed beforehand would have been fatal. As this was a wild pitch with no water on tap, one of those chores was to find a stream. This I did and thankfully not to far from camp. It was only slow running though, hardly more than a trickle. So to be on the safe side I sucked it up in to my water bottle through a water filter. A laborious task at the best of times but just about the last straw when performed crouching in the bottom of a ditch at the end of a long days walk. That night I slept the sleep of the dead. Had I known what tomorrow held in store I think I might have slept a little less easily…

West Highland Way (Part Three).

2007-10-16T21:01:00.000Z

Sunday dawned warm and sunny. I’d got 18 miles to walk today, 16 of which were along the eastern shore of Loch Lomond. I’d anticipated the walk along Loch Lomond to be a steady stroll. I’d sampled part of the route earlier in the year on returning from climbing Ben Lomond. Unfortunately the bit that I walked that day turned out to be the easiest part, unfortunate in that for my walk today I was not prepared for what I was to face.

I left camp dragging my right leg behind me, and it was still refusing to co-operate ten minutes later when I reached the edge of the forest. It was here that I got my first view of Conic Hill. I had to climb this hill before descending to Balmaha on the shore of Loch Lomond. But first things first, before I could climb the hill I first had to climb a stile that had style. It was by far the biggest stile I’d ever seen. I cranked my stiff legs into gear and hauled me and my 50 pound pack up and over the top.

First view of Conic Hill.

A stile with style.

The climbing of Conic Hill was quite easy with the reward of excellent views of Loch Lomond far below. The way down to Balmaha was quite steep in places and far from easy, I had legs of jelly long before reaching the bottom, every step was a struggle against gravity.

The path up Conic Hill (16.25 Miles).

Looking north from Conic Hill (17 Miles).

Looking down on the southern end of Loch Lomond.

Balmaha was the start of a 16 mile trudge to Doune bothy – and that nights camp. I dislike admitting that any walk is a trudge, in my mind it means I failed in someway. My first failing was to not get pleasure from this part of the walk. I got so little pleasure from it because I failed to do my homework properly before hand. There was certainly no shortage of delights for people with the time to enjoy them. But because I failed to anticipate how exhausting this part of the way would be I hadn’t the spare time to relish them. Even driving myself continuously I fell behind schedule. There was no single reason for this, it was a combination of factors that tried in vain to bring me to my knees. 18 miles with a heavy pack is quite a distance at the best of times, and this was definitely not one of the best of times. Parts of the track were narrow and rocky with steep accents and decents. The weather also played its part as it was very warm at times. Then there was the rucksack which was proving to be very uncomfortable. Non of these would have been more than an inconvenience on its own. After all I’d walked more than 18 miles in the day on several occasions, and although the path was rough there were also considerable stretches along good roads, and even though the weather was unbearably hot at times it would have been far worse had it been raining and needed to wear waterproofs. As for the rucksack this was a problem I didn’t understand as I’d never had trouble with it before yet this day I was constantly having to adjust belt and straps in an effort to obtain some degree of comfort which I never did achieve for several days.

It was during this part of the walk that I piece of music by Steve Earle came to mind and it stayed with me on and off for the rest of the walk. On this occasion the words that sang in my head were,

“Nobody said it would be easy,
But it don’t have to be this hard,
And if you’re looking for the reason,
Just stand right where you are.”

Had I been able to spare the time to stand right where I was I’m sure I’d have seen the reason because I know that all around me was a beauty hard to imagine, I just didn’t have the time to enjoy it though.

The shores of Loch Lomond at Balmaha (19.5 miles).

At 1:05 pm I stopped for lunch, I was around 21 miles in to the walk having only covered 5 miles of the days 18 miles. Whilst sitting in a clearing with my back against a tree eating my biscuits my mind did its best to frighten me to death. I noticed lots of green hairy humps, all of which lay motionless whilst my eyes were upon them, but in the stillness of the forest I got the feeling that when my gaze left them they crept a little closer. I was resigned to my fate as I was in no fit state to run anywhere.

Hairy humps slithering through the forest (20.75 Miles).

After the short break it took ten minutes to kick start my right leg back in to action, I knew I should have brought my grans walking frame.

West Highland Way (Part Four).

2007-10-16T20:48:00.000Z

I reached Rowardennan at 3:40pm. This is the end of the road for public motor cars. At Rowardennan was a sign which informed me Inversnaid was seven miles further on, and my target for today – Doune Bothy was another two and a half miles beyond this. I reckoned that at my present rate of travel I still had nearly six hours walking in front of me. This would mean at least an hours walking in the dark then there would be the camp chores to be attended too. With this in mind I decided to fill my water bottles at the toilet block in Rowardennan car park. Four pints adds quite a bit of weight to the already heavy pack but I figured it would be better than stumbling around looking for water in the dark if I ever reached Doune Bothy which was by no means certain the way things were going.

When the time came to leave Rowardennan I was still coming to terms with the fact that I’d only covered half the distance for the days walk. What a daunting prospect to think I’d still got as much to do again, and in less time if I was to make it before nightfall. But it was like the song in my head was once again saying,

“No one else can get you through,
Right or wrong win or lose,
It’s all up to you.”

Looking back down Loch Lomond.

The first five mile of the way after Rowardennan was along a good forestry road. I made good time on this part of the journey which lifted my spirits no end. Even with a stop for a ‘Mars Bar’ I averaged 2.7 miles per hour. This was one of the parts of the West Highland way that I’d walked earlier in the year, it was easy to see how I’d been fooled in to thinking the way up the side of Loch Lomond would be a walkover, not that its any excuse. You can see on the map if you care to look that this stretch is an exception.

The way after Rowardennan - the good bit!

Once the forestry road came to an end my pace over the rest of the distance was a dismal 1.4 miles per hour. I was once again back on a switchback of a trackwinding its way through forest. It was the sort of path to amble along at a slow pace. It consisted more often than not of rocks, not the nice flat sort but the kind designed to trip, sprain and break human bodies – and minds in this instance. There were also fallen trees to overcome, or undercome, sometimes on hands and knees.

A fallen tree on the way to Inversnaid.

I was never allowed to get in to a rhythm, so even under full sail as I was one could never manage more than an ambling pace. Every step was a tiresome balancing act.

Shortly before reaching Inversnaid I passed three action men laid flat out in the grass. It was a case of the tortoise and the hare as earlier in the day they’d stormed past leaving me looking like the cripple I was feeling. But now the boot seemed to be on the other foot. I straightened my bowing legs and arched back, put the tongue back in my mouth and strode up to them like Clint Eastwood on a good day.

‘Now then lads, are you okay’? I asked.

Above the whimpering I heard one of them say they were staying at Inversnaid and asked was I.

I dauntlessly said, ‘no, I think I will press on to Doune Bothy’.

With that I said goodbye and breezed off in to the sunset to resume my tortured gait just around the next corner. This was not to say that there was any sort of contest going on between us, you just like to think you can hold your own with the young guys.

It was 6:55pm when I walked over the bridge by the waterfall at Inversnaid. By now I was hoping for a miracle because I knew that even under average conditions I was not going to make it to the bothy by nightfall and the circumstances were well below average and would become more so as the light failed…

West Highland Way (Part Five).

2007-10-16T20:04:00.000Z

Two miles from the bothy the sun disappeared behind the mountains on the far side of the loch. It soon grew quite dark under the trees and the light took with it any thoughts of reaching Doune bothy this day.

Sunset over Loch Lomond.

My thoughts turned instead to finding a pitch while there was still a little bit of light left. Within minutes my prayers were answered as I emerged from the trees in to a beautiful clearing overlooking the loch. It was idyllic, it was also lighter once out from under the trees and with the light returned thoughts of Doune Bothy, perhaps I could get there after all. I stood there in the clearing for what seemed like ages debating with myself whether to press on or stay. The place was heavenly and normally that alone would have decided things for me, especially as it had been an absolutely murderous day. I was on my last legs and my hips felt like they were cut to the bone by the hip belt of my rucksack. But I just couldn’t give in, not when I was so close. The thing that eventually made my mind up was the knowledge that if I stopped here it would me having to add another one and a half miles to the next days walk. For sure the going would probably going to be easier tomorrow but I didn’t know that for sure, there was nothing to say that it wouldn’t be even harder than today. So in the end the thought of staying here in the clearing and so making my walk tomorrow over twenty miles was too much so with this in mind I hauled up my sack on to my weary back and pressed on, back in to the forest, back in to the darkness, back to slipping and stumbling over the rough path. Within a quarter of a mile I was once again stopped, this time contemplating returning to the clearing I’d just passed, the going now in the dark was even more pitifully slow. There was to be no turning back though, I’d made my decision so I would abide by it whatever the outcome. The outcome was that after another half mile of stumbling along in almost complete darkness I stopped again, this time to get the torch from my rucksack. To have continued without it would have been very dangerous.
Now with the torch lighting the way I was able to place my feet with more confidence and it was reassuring to know that barring battery failure I would eventually reach my destination. But because of my now limited vision I was unable to pick out any landmarks so was not able to judge where I was on the map. There was no sense of travelling, like walking in the fog. I kept on putting on foot in front of the other and hoping I was going in the right direction, I could see the path okay so I just hoped it was the right path and it was taking me to Doune Bothy which must be getting close by now. Occasionally something would dark across my path, I think I saw a fox, and somewhere to my right there was a hoot of an owl away in to the forest. It was quite spooky with lots of noises noticeable that you don’t hear during the day. Somewhere close by there was for a short while some considerable amount of fluttering of wings, I have no idea what it was, I just kept on walking. I walked for what seemed like hours although it wasn’t maybe only one hour before I eventually brole free of the forest. The torch picked out something quite large up ahead. Was it a building or just another large rock? As I got closer I could see that sure enough it was a building, two buildings in fact. One was off to my left but it was the one directly in front of me that I was most interested in. The door was wide open and as I passed through I could see with great relief that this was it. The whole of one end was taken up by a raised area, at the opposite end there was a fireplace with a raise area to each side of it. I chose the end with the large raised area to dump off my rucksack for the last time that day. I chose the larger sleeping platform because I fancied doing some lying down in a big way! With this in mind I went over to the corner of the sleeping platform to fetch the two sleeping mats that some kind soul had left. I pick up the first one to find there was something on it, a closer inspection with the torch revealed that someone had been sick on it. It took all my self control to stop myself from adding to it. I realised that this was not turning out to be one of my better days. I would have moved to the other end of the bothy by the fireplace but by now I was having trouble standing up never mind doing anything complicated like walking. I knew I should have packed my grans wheelchair.

Night time at Doune Bothy (9:15pm).

Before going any further I will just explain that a bothy is some kind of a building, more common in Scotland than in other parts of the UK. They can be any sort of old building from say a shepherds hut to an old railway truck. If you want more information please visit http://www.mountainbothies.org.uk/

West Highland Way (Part Six).

2007-10-16T19:01:00.000Z

After a breakfast of hot bran muesli and a cup of tea I packed up and was away by 9am. I was surprised by the lack of aches and pains, I thought after yesterday I would be feeling half dead today but not so. My legs were in better shape than when I started yesterday so I think things must be looking up.

The morning in Doune Bothy, (9:00am).

Doune Bothy from the side that I approached it last night.

Within half a mile the path left the shoreline of Loch Lomond and almost at the same time the path improved quite considerably. I had now reached the head of the loch and was approaching Beinglas Farm.

View back down Loch Lomond, (36.75 miles).

The View forward to Glen Falloch, (37 Miles - 09:55am).

After which I came to a good track beside the river Falloch at the start of Glen Falloch. Shortly before reaching the Falls of Falloch the path once again took a turn for the worse becoming wet and boggy. I persevered for a short while dodging back and forth to avoid the worst areas. Apart from make progress slow it was also trying it’s best to make me wet and muddy. As a rule this wouldn’t bother me, a bit of mud won’t hurt you, but when the only clothes you have are the ones you’re wearing for the sake of respectability at a later date you have to take a bit more care to keep them clean.

The Falls of Falloch.

Away in front I could see two other people, and judging by their actions they were having the same problems as me. This made me decide to put on my gaiters now rather than later. It was a bit of a bother having to stop and unpack them when I was in my stride but I knew it was for the best and after all it’s why I was carrying them. It was well worth it because now I didn’t have to tread so carefully or do so much dodging back and forth, I was able to make much better and easier progress.

In no time at all I’d caught up with the people who were in front of me. They turned out to be a young man and woman. As I drew level with them at a particularly wet bit the girls feet slipped from under her and with a shriek and a splat she landed on her back in the quagmire. It was the sort of thing you can see and feel happening yet all you can do is stand and watch. The man and I stood and looked at each other whilst the girl tried in vain to brush off the mud and her embarrassment. She assured us that the only thing hurt was her pride. I figured this would perhaps mostly easily cured by me not being there so I said my goodbyes and left them, I thought as I walked along how unfortunate life can be sometimes. I was probably the first person they’d seen all day and there was a good chance I’d be the last until Crainlarich. To fall in the mud when on your own would have been bad enough but to do it in front of an audience adds greatly to ones embarrassment.

West Highland Way (Part Seven).

2007-10-16T18:52:00.000Z

Half way up the glen at Derrydaroch – a small farm where I stopped for lunch sitting by the river. From here the way crossed the river and continued on a much better path. After a further mile I had to cross first the railway and then the A82 road. I say cross but on both occasions the path went under by way of low narrow tunnels rather than over the obstacles. Again this brought even further improvement under foot, I was now walking on a good path to a forest at the head of the glen. Shortly before entering the forest I looked back to see some other walkers and although they were quite some way behind I could see one solitary walker a short way in front of three others. I assumed that the three were the action men from yesterday although they never got close enough for me to confirm this.

The path beside the river Falloch just beyond Derrydarach, (42.5 miles).

The next part of the way was through a young forest which at first gave views of Crainlarich and on up the Strath Fillan towards Tyndrum which was to be tonight’s resting place.

Looking to Tyndrum, (45.5 miles).

I was really enjoying the walking today, especially the walk down in to Tyndrum – it was nearly all down hill on a good path. That’s not to say I hadn’t enjoyed the walk up to this point because I had but in a different sort of way. The first two days had been a slog, there was no two ways about it. But I know by now that its always like this in the beginning while the body gets used to a different way of life.

The river Falloch from Auchreach, (3:42pm).

Goats at St Fillans

From now on I knew it would be easier, I felt good as I strode out down a good path into Strath Fillan and on past the ruins of St Fillan’s chapel and so on in to Tyndrum.

The ruins of St Fillan's chapel.

To enter the campsite I had chosen you have to first cross over a small river by way of a wooden bridge. Just as I was about to do this I noticed something on a big old log a few yards on up the way. On investigation I discovered much to my surprise that it was another note from Fallon, this turned out to the most memorable thing about my visit to Tyndrum.

The tree with a message.

Whilst the campsite was not bad it wasn’t that good either. The surface was very stony which made getting the tent pegs in a nightmare. I’d booked in and was pitching my tent by 5:15pm which just goes to show how difficult yesterday had been. Today I’d completed more or less the same distance but in three hours less time plus more rest breaks along the way.

Tyndrum campsite, (4:45pm - 52 miles).

West Highland Way (Part Eight).

2007-10-16T17:11:00.000Z

I was on the trail by 9:50am and once again the weather looked promising, I was starting my fourth day and I’d yet to see any rain. I was in no great hurry today as it was to be a short day of just thirteen miles, that was the plan anyway but as things turned out the day eventually became another day of nineteen miles. Within a quarter of a mile of setting off the three action men came storming past. I re-passed them a quarter of a mile later whilst that were buying goodies at the Clifton tuck shop.

Approaching Clifton, (53.75 Miles - 10:00am).

One mile out of Clifton the West Highland Way, the railway and the A82 road ran side by side into the narrow pass between the mountains of Beinn Bheag on my left, and Beinn Odhar on my right. Three miles in front stood the massive bulk of Beinn Dorain. I think only the most apathetic of travellers whether it be by way, rail or road could remain unimpressed by its grandeur. Once again the song came in to my head,

‘If you’re looking for a reason,
Just stand right where you are’.

The words were true enough, if I was looking for a reason as to why I was doing this walk then all I needed to do was stand right where I was.

Looking to Beinn Dorain, (55 miles - 11:06am).

This is what I was doing – admiring the view down to Bridge of Orchy – when once again the action men came stomping along, this time they stopped for a chat. At some point they had recruited a fourth member, he seemed even more keen to get on with it than them and was off down the track before the others had finished talk to me.

Approaching Bridge of Orchy station, (1:06pm).

At Bridge of Orchy I took the opportunity to phone home. Also at this point the road and the railway took an easterly route up and over Rannoch Moor where as we on the West Highland Way took a westerly route around Loch Tulla via Victoria Bridge and Black Mount, the beautifully situated home of the Flemmings, one of whom was author of the James Bond books.

Crossing the River Orchy, (1:27pm).

Some of the views on the way to Victoria Bridge.
Looking back of the days walk to this point, (60 miles - 2:15pm).
Loch Tulla, (60.5 miles - 2:33pm).
View towards Victoria Bridge, (60.75 miles).

Victoria Bridge would have been a lovely place to spend half an hour or so taking it easy, unfortunately I arrived at the same time as a party of about twenty other walkers. I’m not one for crowds at the best of times and it came as an even greater shock to the system after four days of virtual solitude. I took a few photo’s and was about to set off up the track that leads to Rannoch Moor when through the crowd – and much to my surprise – burst the three action men. I must have passed them somewhere along the way, perhaps at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel. They seemed to have lost their fourth member, or more likely he’d lost them. Anyway they were now off, burning up the tarmac to Rannoch Moor, I set off after them at a more leisurely pace.

A view from Victoria Bridge, (62 miles - 3:20pm).

(I will try and find you a map of the way Merle and let you have it.

West Highland Way (Part Nine).

2007-10-16T16:08:00.000Z

Since Tyndrum I’d been walking on General Wades military road. The going was excellent, it was 3:30pm and I’d only another three miles to go, things were going well.

Looking back from Rannoch Moor, (63.5 miles - 4:01pm).

The only problem I had was the same one I’d had since the start of my journey and that was the problem concerning my hips that were still as sore as ever. I make no apologies for keep mentioning this as it was a major source of discomfort. I felt sure the basis of the problem lay with the new trousers I bought for this walk in particular the zips on the pockets. I tried adjusting them this way and that without much relief, after all there is only really one position for a pair of trousers to be worn, other than that they are either to far up or too far down or you end up with your knickers in a twist. A man can only take so much though and I’d put up with it until the 64th mile. At that point I threw off the rucksack at the same time uttering a few choice words in frustration. I’d decided new trousers or not something had to be done. I whipped out my pocket knife – its okay I’m not about to slit my wrists or anything. I set too and hacked off all the teeth on the zip to the right hand pocket threatening the left zip that if this experiment proved a success it would be receiving the same treatment. Successful it certainly was, so much so I was attacking left hand zip like a mad axe man one mile later. The difference it made was unbelievable, I cursed myself for not thinking to do it 63 miles ago.

Looking forward, the way goes over the hill in centre of picture, (65 miles).

Tonight’s pitch was to be a wild pitch, that’s if things had gone to plan, unfortunately they didn’t. my problems started shortly before I reached my intended site. In the distance I could see something white, I jokingly said to myself, because by this point in the journey I was talking to anything that would listen, that looks like a 4x4. I didn’t believe it for one minute, I was in the middle of nowhere, why would it be a 4x4, let alone a 4x4 right where I’d planned to pitch my tent for the night, plans that were made 300 miles away at least 6 months before hand, it couldn’t be. As I got closer I could see to my disbelief that it was a 4x4 and worse still the owner was standing by the side of it, someone must have ratted on me! There was no way I was going to be pitching my tent there that night. I stopped for a minute trying to think what to do next.

‘No matter which way the wind blows,
Its always cold when you’re alone’.

Is what the song was saying. In the end I decided to go on past him now resigned to making the rest of the day up as I went along. Maybe there would be a decent place to pitch my tent around the corner, maybe there wouldn’t – who knows, the plans were out the window and blowing away across the wilderness they call Rannoch Moor. I’m sure there are many plans running free in that remoteness.
As I got level with the man who was scanning the wilderness intently he lowered his binoculars and said good afternoon. I replied likewise thinking it was a great afternoon until you went and spoilt it but you can’t hold that sort of thing against a guy, not when he wishes you well so I stopped and started talking to him, as I said earlier I was into conversation with who or whatever, it had become a new found passion of mine. I asked him if he was a shepherd, he said not and went on to inform me that he was stalking deer. Now these guys are not far removed from gamekeepers so not the sort of person you would ask to move their vehicle a little so you can pitch your tent. I was scrabbling around in my brain trying to find a plan that involved soft soaping deer stalkers when he asked if I was going to Kingshouse for the night. I thought, this is my chance, he seems a decent sort of chap, I’ll ask if it would be okay for me to pitch my tent somewhere along the way. So I opened my mouth and said, ‘YES that’s right’. Now I can see how to you that might not make much sense, to fully understand it you would need to be a coward like me.

Views of Rannoch Moor.

Its not all easy being a coward, I’d just landed myself an extra 5 miles to the days walk. There was only one thing to do now so I set about knocking off the miles to Kinghouse Hotel. It was 5pm so with a good track underfoot and the wind behind me I should be there between 7 and half past. I could just make out the action men on the horizon 2 miles in front of me. This encouraged me to set a cracking pace. I never expected to catch them up but to my surprise on rounding a bend at the 4th mile in to my extension to the days walk I came upon them a few hundred yards in front of me. I eased my pace as I didn’t really want to catch them, it was getting embarrassing. So I followed them down the track to the Kingshouse Hotel, which is Scotland’s oldest inn. I never saw them again. That is just about the saddest part of being a long distance walker, no matter whether they are good, bad or ugly they are only ever passing ships. I’ve met hundreds of people, I can count the bad ones on just one hand, all the rest were great guys and gals, the best I’ve ever known yet they only belong to that moment in time – it’s so sad.

Approaching Kingshouse and Glen Coe.

West Highland Way (Part Ten).

2007-10-16T16:00:00.000Z

It was turning out to be a dirty night, I never really noticed the weather turn, it came from nowhere like a bad mood. I knew from looking at my list of campsites earlier that they allowed camping here, what I wasn’t sure of was where to get permission. I stood in the twilight and steadily falling rain, a shiver ran down my spine as I looked through the window at the people eating their dinners, I wasn’t at all sure about walking in on them but I had to do something so I made for the door at the same time I noticed a sign on the stone wall which read ‘Climbers Bar’, an arrow directing me around the end of the building away from the suits eating dinner, ‘Climbers Bar’ sounded more like my sort of place.

As I entered the bar I could hear someone playing the blues. In one corner sat a man who looked to be in his twenties. Behind the bar stood a bonny Scots lassie who spoke with an equally bonnie Scots accent when I asked for a pitch which as it turned out was free and a pint of beer which was I forget how much. I looked around taking stock as she pulled the pint. The furnishings were basic, floor coverings that would take heavy climbing boots without complaint. The walls were covered with photographs of climbing visitors past. The one that caught my eye was one of Sean Connery. I was told later that he earned his place on the wall by paying the establishment a visit whilst filming ‘The Highlander’.

I was sitting at one of the tables studying tomorrow’s route on my map when the man in the corner introduced himself as John. He then went on to explain that he had come up from London to do some climbing, he expressed disappointment at how quiet the bar was. I didn’t disagree, but in my heart I was quite pleased to have the place to ourselves. I hate crowded bars, I hate crowds. As it was I got some what comfy so I decided to give myself a treat and ordered some food, looking at the menu I chose to have chips, sausage and beans. John was kind enough to buy me another beer to go with it. Whilst devouring my feast, and to me it was a feast, for the past four days I’d been living morning and evening on freeze dried food from packets supplemented with 5 chocolate digestive biscuits for my lunch with a break for a ‘Mars Bar’ at 4pm. This has been my routine on all my long walks. It might not seem so good to you but it works, I don’t feel hungry, it’s simple to prepare, light and gives me the energy I need. As I was saying, I was part way through my meal when in walked another man. He looked to be in his thirties and frightening in appearance. He was well build with shoulder length blonde hair. Without meaning to be unkind he was scruffy, probably much the same as I was after four days on the trail, he looked like a cowboy without the big hat. He was obviously a walker and so that alone told me there was not really much to fear as I’ve yet to meet a bad one, its as the song says,

“There ain’t no one out to get you,
Because they’ve got to walk in their own shoes”.

The wild places are a great leveller of men, you can’t afford to be mean to anyone because you don’t know when you might need a friend and out there you can’t pick and choose. I discovered later that his name was John too and he was from Glasgow. He went and sat on a stool by the bar and waited patiently for the barmaid who by now had left the hubbub of the climbers bar. I was sitting studying the last remains of my banquet wondering whether it would be greedy of me to order a sweet to follow when the second John expressed a disappointment at the quietness of the climbers bar… I decided against the sweet and was about to leave when in walked the barmaid. The second John ordered his beer and asked if me and the other John would join him. I wanted too but I really needed to get my tent pitched. Thankfully I’d put it up that many times by now that I could do it with my eyes closed so I wasn’t really expecting any problems as long as the ground was something like decent. I left thanking him for his kind offer saying that I might return later. I knew as soon as I walked out in to the cold night air that I would return. The cold chill of winter was blowing up from Glen Coe. I hurriedly pitched my tent close to another one and returned shivering to the warmth and stories of the climbers bar.

On entering the second John was up from his seat in a flash and was ordering me a beer. He, like me was a walker rather than a climber but unlike me was not walking a definite path, he was more of a drifter going where the fancy took him and finishing when he felt like going home, his only tie being to get home in time for work on Monday morning. He had started his walk at Spean Bridge although I wasn’t sure of this at the time as he pronounced it as ‘Spin Brigg’. As I didn’t want to show my ignorance I made no attempt to enlighten myself on this matter which was something I was to regret later on that week. Judging by his description of his walk and a bothy he used somewhere in the Glen Nevis area I think we must have taken the same route between Fort William and Spean Bridge and three days later I would have been glad of his experience with regard to river crossings and the location of the bothy he used.

The only other person to enter the bar that night was the chef of the house, apart from his flaming red hair and bad limp he was a replica of Billy Connolly and the opposite of me. After the second John had made the introductions Brian the chef bought us all a beer. It was easy to see John and Brian as friends, which by their chatter obviously were. I imagined that in their younger days they were leather clad tearaways riding their motorcycles to the brink and back just for the hell of it. Brian now took centre stage and before long was asking the barmaid to change the music, I don’t think Brian was one for singing the blues, he wanted something loud and heavy, apparently he liked his music like his women! Unfortunately and much to his disgust the barmaid couldn’t satisfy his wish so he left the bar vowing to return with some real music. This he did in no more than five minutes. The wind in Glen Coe has the effect of making one quick about their business. The rest of the evening turned in to an Alice Cooper appreciation evening. What Brian didn’t know about Alice Cooped wasn’t worth knowing. It was also getting to the point where if someone went to the bathroom instead of them walking around the tables and chairs the rest of the party who were sitting would move them out of the way thus proving a clear passage. Despite this I felt I should offer to pay my round. From what I remember that beer went down listening to the first john tell us tales about spitting camels and disgusting monkeys, he was a zoo keeper at London Zoo.

That night I went to sleep on a cushion of alcohol and slept the sleep of the dead.

West Highland Way (Part Eleven).

2007-10-16T15:28:00.000Z

I woke the next morning to find much to my surprise that I had a clear head, I felt no ill effects whatsoever from the night before. I also found when I awoke that the tent was covered inside and out with ice. Cocooned in a sleeping bag filled with duck down as I was I felt nothing of the cold.

Due to the extra miles walked yesterday I’d got an easy day today, just eleven miles to Kinlochleven. The second John was away before I was, I never saw the first John or Brian, just three more passing ships.

Kingshouse Hotel (9:50am).

The air was crystal clear this morning which served to enhance the views as I made my way down to the Devils Staircase. I was particularly enthralled by the view of Glen Etive. To me the Devil’s Staircase conjured up a horrific climb but really it turned out to be a pussy cat. At the top I stopped to savour the views and eat my five chocolate digestive biscuits and Pineapple juice, I don’t remember where I picked that up from as I usually just have plain old water from the tap. From here it was seven miles nearly all of them down hill to Kinlochleven. There, didn’t I tell you we were in for an easy day!

Looking to Glen Etive.

Glen Coe (73 miles-11:15am).

View from the top of the Devil's Staircase.

As I looked down I could see the path stretching out before me twisting back and forth down the hillside, there was no doubt which way I was to go. The most noticeable occurrence on the way down took place about three miles before Kinlochleven at a wooden bridge over a fast flowing mountain stream. I’d seen two people with bicycles ahead of me when I was climbing the Devil’s Staircase, now at the bridge I caught up with them. It was a young man and woman, the woman was on the bridge with her bike, the man and his steed were in the stream. I asked in passing if they were okay, the man replied that it was until they got a puncture, he seemed rather disgruntled about this. The woman then went on to say how she’d fallen off several times on the way down. This didn’t surprise me as the path was quite rough in places. When I enquired if she had hurt herself she said she had a few bumps and grazes but was enjoying it never the less.

The path to Kinlochleven.

I can’t say I was impressed with Kinlochleven, the way entered the village from behind an aluminium works which came as a shock to the system after the beauty of the hills and as first impressions are usually the ones that count the most I think my view of Kinlochleven was tainted before I even got too it.

Kinlochleven (79.5 miles).

One welcome sight as I approached Kinlochleven was the array of signs offering accommodation. It was the first and last time that I was to see this sort of thing. This practise was quite common when I’d walked the Pennine Way. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to come across a sign in the most remote of places, offering accommodation up to two days walk away.

Sings of things to come (79.75 miles).

My site for today was at Narrach Bridge one and a half miles beyond Kinlochleven on the road to Fort William. It was a beautifully situated site on the very shores of Loch Leven. I had the place to myself so I chose to pitch close to, and overlooking the loch. During the time it took to pitch my tent the wind got up quite considerably. So much in fact that I even considered moving to a more sheltered place. In the end I decided to put in more pegs. The wind was up and the sun was gone and I would hardly see it again for the rest of the walk. There were no chips, beans and sausages on the menu tonight, and no beer either. I had to make do with shepherds pie followed by apples and custard from foil packets and instead of the beer was a mug of tea. The rest of the night was spent generally lazing around. I wrote a couple of postcards while there was still enough daylight to see. I also did camp chores and took a stroll around the campsite.

Camp chores - wash up time.

The end of the day usually comes with a cup of tea being drunk whilst lying in my sleeping bag. Zipping myself in to my sleeping bag at the end of the day is to me one of life’s exquisite pleasures, especially after a long day on the trail.

My little tent.

West Highland Way (Part Twelve).

2007-10-16T14:29:00.000Z

One of the worst things is packing up all my stuff on a dirty wet morning which is what I woke too this morning. After putting on my waterproof trousers, coat, inner boots and gaiters which is an ordeal in itself I then set about packing the rest of my belongings, hopefully without getting them wet, this is very important as the only clothes I have are the ones I stand up in and I have no way of drying anything. When you wake to a wet morning at home its an inconvenience at worst, when out on a long walk as I was a wet day takes on a whole new meaning and one that has to be taken far more seriously. For this reason my sleeping bag and anything else that needs to be kept absolutely dry I have a waterproof liner into which they all go never having left the tent even though it is quite a struggle trying to pack things up in such a small tent, its better than getting them wet. Once they are safe everything else has to take pot luck.
Today is my last day on the West Highland Way and it started almost at once with a steep climb up a slippery slope to rejoin the way proper. This sort of start to the day comes hard, especially as it was quite mild and I was having to wear cumbersome waterproofs. At the top I paused for to catch my breath and take a look at the view back to Kinlochleven.

Looking back to Kinlochleven (81.5 miles).

It was now 10:45am and I was standing on a good track at the eighty one and a half mile mark. I had just thirteen miles to go. looking at my map I saw three miles on there was a building called Tigh-Na-Sleubhaich and then another one mile beyond that called Lairigmor. Both were in the middle of nowhere, as I made my way towards them I wondered to myself if they would be intact or just another ruin. I was secretly hoping that at least one of them would offer me some shelter from the rain whilst I eat my lunch. The track was a good one winding its way through the hills.

The track to Tigh Na Sleubhaich (83.5 miles-11:02am).

I was at Tigh-Na-Sleubhaich by 11:40am, it was derelict but it was a bit too early to make a stop for lunch anyway. I scouted around the place just out of curiosity. There was evidence that at some time in the past the place had been on fire, I wondered if it were this that had driven out the occupier or had the fire happened afterwards. There was obviously a tale to be told in there somewhere. I’ve heard it said that walls have ears, whenever I’m in the midst of a ruin I wish they had mouths was well. As ruins go I would say that Tigh-Na-Sleubhaich had been vacated fairly recently. In what was left of an out building there was still a 4x4 parked up which on closer inspection looked to be in a similar contition to the rest of the place. Scattered around were other pieces of farm machinery, all of it quite dated and of little use except to a scrap yard.
During the mile to Lairigmor I mused over what I’d just seen. At sometime in the past someone had used and manipulated nature to suit their own ends. Now they are gone and as sure as god makes little green apples nature will reclaim what is rightly hers. Like you and I the farm machinery and the rest of the debris will be consumed by the earth, and judging by the progress so far I think we will be devoured long before the remains of Tigh-Na-Sleubhaich.

Looking back to Tigh Na Sleubhaich (85 miles).

On arrival I could see that Lairigmor was in a far more advanced state of reclamation by nature. The only evidence of man here was the skeleton of what was once the homestead. I stood for a while gazing out through a paneless window at the wilderness. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to live and forage for a living in such a place as this. As a child I can remember playing on the stone slabs of the kitchen floor. I remember my mum filling the paraffin lamps, I remember having no bathroom, proper toilet or even hot water from a tap. These might seem like hardships in this day and age but I’m sure the people who lived at Lairigmor and other such places had it even harder than I did when I was growing up. I stood there until I was perished but really I still don’t think I had a clue as to what life was really like in such a place. The trivialities of a modern world had lowered my sense of adversity to such an extent that I could be stood there to this day and still have not a clue of the reality.

Before leaving Lairigmor I stole a glance back up the track, I could see several walkers and wondered if it were the action men. I stopped for lunch at 12:20pm at eighty seven miles. I sort the shelter of a rocky outcrop above and overlooking the track. Before long the walkers I’d seen in the distance passed by. I made no attempt to conceal my presence yet they passed by unseeing. I sat there and marvelled, watching them until they were out of sight. How could they not see me? Would I have seen me if I’d been them? What else had they not seen along the way? To them I would never exist! In days of old they would have been easy prey to the ruthless highway man, they were yet another victim of the modern world because for sure they would have had their wits about them more in days past.
The same could be said for the next two to pass, this time though I was up standing about to move off. I stood watching and wondering, wondering if something had occurred to cause me to become invisible, maybe I had been consumed by the spirits I’d spent time with at Lairigmor. It was only the scrape of my boots as I landed on the stone track just a few yards behind them that alerted them to my presence in this world. Once they overcame the shock we introduced ourselves. One was a middle aged man called Martin and the other was called Sean and looked to be in his twenties. Both were from Congleton in Cheshire and this was their first long distance walk. I hit it off with these two straight away, I got the feeling they were glad of my company. I walked with them for the remaining eight miles to Fort William. I’d never walked this far with strangers before and I’m surprised at how much I enjoyed it, just for a change. Although I think its fair to say that I didn’t get as much out of the actual walk. I can see how the group of walkers passed me by without seeing me earlier. You become so engrossed in conversation that your little group becomes detached from the surroundings. I remember very little of my surrounding during that last eight miles. What I do recall is more in relation to the group rather than what is happening outside it. For instance when I was on my own in the morning the thoughts of the conditions were always close to my thoughts yet in the afternoon I don’t recall is raining but I know it was because I recall Sean had problems wearing the hood of his coat over his cap. The afternoon was made up of individual memories because I can’t recall enough of what happened in between to be able to string them together.

Sleubhaich Speaks.

2007-10-16T11:59:00.000Z

I would like to thank anonymous for taking the trouble for the comment they made about Sleubhaich, I'm so pleased that you contacted me and would love to hear more about the place and your life there. My visit to the place was no more than few minutes on a wet miserable day but it had such a big effect on me that even to this day I can still remember it with clarity and feeling. If you want to say more you can, either in the form of a comment or directly to my email address which is rob@communique4u.fsnet.co.uk all the best Bob.

Our Wedding Anniversary.

2007-10-14T17:25:00.000Z

Hello everyone, I hope y’all having a good weekend. Yesterday I went over to see my mates Jo and David and we went and did a bit of shopping and just generally had a fun day so that was good. I wasn’t late back as Fallon was away playing hockey and I didn’t know when she would get home so I didn’t like the idea of Vicki sitting home alone all night. As it turned out Fallon was home for about 8 and treated us to a Chinese meal so had that and watched a couple of movies on the TV, one of which was way too violent for me to enjoy. It never used to bother me but these days I just don’t see death as entertainment, especially as they bandy it about like life and death mean nothing.

Today is our wedding anniversary, we’ve been married 18 years now, there have been hard times but lots of good ones too. Vicki likes the cloud tree that I’ve trained for her, I bought a nice pot to put it in too and told her that if she didn’t like the tree she could use the pot for something else if she wanted.

Thanks everyone for your kind words about my tidy desk. Its like it is at the mo because I had to clear everything off to re-arrange it all, I often getting it looking this way with no clutter about but bit by bit it ends up looking like a refuge dump, this time though I’m more determined to keep it tidy, I’m not sure how long I will remain determined though!!

I would like to thank Phil Voice for offering me some sort of guest posting in his own blog, I think you were perhaps thinking that I was giving up blogging when you made the offer Phil, I do appreciate it and you are very kind and I think had I got my ‘nice matters’ award for this blog instead of my other one I would be passing it on to you.

I wouldn’t say I was depressed Kimmie, although its true to say that I wasn’t as motivated in my work last week as usual. I once told my boss here that I do all the extra things and go the extra bit that makes all the difference because I like the place and it’s more than just a job to me, but when the place kicks you in the teeth you see it for what it really is, which is just a job. So I think that’s what happened last week, I’m not depressed, and I’m not motivated very much either which is a shame but I’m sure with time it will pass, and of course I find this time of year very uninspiring anyway.

As I can’t show you pics of the gardens anymore I’m working on taking you on a trip along the West Highland Way, as its an hiking trip I have to try and fit into this blog somehow. As I obviously can’t write it all in one posting I’m going to write a bit each day but I don’t want it to be fragmented by present everyday stuff so I think what I’ll do is find a separate place for it and then put a link to that place somewhere in my daily posting – what do you all think?

Well better be off now as my dinner is nearly ready, I sure wish you could all smell it!!
Bob.

Back In Action.

2007-10-12T20:42:00.000Z

Hello everyone. Everything is back in order now and jolly fine iit is too even if I do say so myself. In the first picture is where my computer is as I'm sure you can see.To the left of the computer desk is another where me and sometimes David, like to play at being boy racers, we have some right laughs I can tell you.

Its been a shooting day here today - and guess what? Dick Dastardly and his merry men managed to shut the garden gate behind them. Actually I was a bit disappointed in a way because I've adopted a new relaxed approach to the rabbit problem. It occurred to me that its not really any skin off my nose if they get in to the garden, its not like its my garden or my plants and the boss knows who is breeding the rabbits and letting them go so if they do get in teh garden and eat her ladyships prize plants from Castle Howard guess who will get the blame. Yes, I know - me probably! But if rights right then it should be Dick Dastardly shouldn't it. Also if one of her ladyships plants were to die, I could give the dogs a break and blame the rabbits! I know, I'm an evil minded so and so but some people have that effect on me.

This morning I had to deal with an Ivy problem, it was climbing up and over the barn so I removed a two foot wide strip across the full width of the ivy so hopefully it will eventually die off and can be removed. It was really hard work because it was a massive plant some six feet wide and stems as thick as my wrists. I chopped across it with a big axe and then got a big iron bar behind it and levered it away from the wall until it broke off. I felt like Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk hacking down the beanstalk.

This afternoon I tidied up a couple of corner beds in the courtyard area, I didn't rush at it as I wasn't in a rushing mood, haven't been all week really.

I'm off to spend the day with David and Jo tomorrow so I'm not sure if I will have time to post anything or not.

Well I'd better be off now.

Bob.

Refit & Overhaul.

2007-10-11T19:41:00.000Z

Hello everyone. This is just a very short post as Dreadnought is operating on a very limited service at the moment due to my work station having a refit and overhaul, below is an example how things are progressing.

Hopefully things will be sorted out by tomorrow night so will post properly then provided I'm not overcome by fish and chips and fall asleep in the armchair.

Bob.

A Sting In The Tail.

2007-10-09T19:04:00.000Z

Hello everyone, how are you today? Bob has had another bad day, I think I'm just going to stay in bed tomorrow but the way things are going at the moment the bed will probably collapse or something. I woke this morning to pouring rain but I still take the dogs out because they don't seem to mind but because it was raining I put on my woolly hat that had been hangin' in the porch since the last time it was raining which is quite a while now. All of a sudden I started to feel something sharp keep sticking in my head, so eventually I took of my hat only to discover a wasp in it, the darn thing had stung me in the head, it felt like I'd been hit in the head with an axe. I tell you what though, it doesn't half wake you up in a morning!! I'm not sure why but I looked inside the hat just to be sure there were no more and good thing I did too cos there were four more wasps inside, it was really creepy. So they joined their mate on the wooden dogfood box in the porch to await execution. I don't like killing things but boy did I savour that moment!

Five squished wasps.

I found this tonight when I was looking through some things, its a news paper cutting from 1962, its of the first house that I ever lived in, to see the article you will need to click on it, if that doesn't work let me know and I will do it so you can read the writing. I don't want to go to the trouble of copying it out if you can read it okay without.

With it being wet most of the day I've spent it messing around in the greenhouse and potting shed. I made another Sempervivum ball so that I have one for each side of the door in winter. Of course I stayed behind after work and did this.

To answer your question Elaine, yes for sure I do intend posting here as often as possible, this is my blog now and it will be better than the old one.

Well you know what they say Merle, small things amuse small minds!

Yes Jeanette I did get your message thanks, and thanks too for everyone elses.

Kimmie, Can you tell me what part of Scotland Uncle Fred comes from as I've been to many places in Scotland which is my most fav place to visit after the Peak District.

Best Wishes,

Bob.

Look Where Bob's Taking Us.

2007-10-08T19:31:00.000Z

Hi Guys, guess what Bob just did? He went and booked a holiday kennel and he's going to take me and Tippy and Vicki on holiday to Scotland in November - its enough to make me spin round in circles and chase me tail. This is the kennel he's taking us too.This is the couch, it sure looks cumfy, not sure where anyone else is supposed to sit though.

This is the room where we like to get in Vicki's way, its real good fun tripping her up so she drops food for us to help clean up.
Mmmm... I can just see myself lying in front of that stove after a hard days sight seeing.

Here is Bob and Vicki's bed
Guess who sleeps here?!!

Ha ha - yeh right Tom, Black dogs in white bedding - I don't think so mate.

Bobs just mad cos he's had to pay an extra £20 for each for us dogs to go, anyone would think we weren't worth it.

Tom

The Back Stabbers.

2007-10-08T19:09:00.000Z

Hello everyone. As those of you know who managed to read about it before it disappeared I had to have a walk around the gardens with the boss yesterday, I could tell by the way the lady of the house was acting that they had something lined up for me. It turns out that someone had seen me and Vicki taking a picture of Debbie, presumably on the north front as I don’t recall having taken any other pics of her by the house. She just wanted to show her mum when she got home. As you will probably know to your own frustration I don’t photo the house out of respect for the owners so that alone should tell you how revealing the picture was. Anyway the boss said that for security reasons they would rather I didn’t take pictures of the house, or at least I think that’s what he was saying as I was by this time spitting feathers thinking someone was telling lies about me. As you know Debbie visited over 3 months ago now and the matter so trivial that I had clean forgot about it. It wasn’t until sometime later when I was talking to Vicki about it and we were trying to work out what he was talking about that we remembered Debbie’s visit and how we have taken a walk around the village and ended up back at the hall where we took the picture. Don’t get me wrong I’m not upset at the boss, I can understand the cautious approach to security in a place like this, what annoys me is that some tittle tattling busybody should stab me in the back with a trivial incident that happened so long ago that no one but them could remember it. All I could find out from the boss is that the cowardly swine is a male, but then he could have just been laying a false trail so now everyone is viewed with suspicion. Anyway I’m sure you can all see now why I deleted my blog if they found a couple of pics of Debbie such a threat that its dwelt on their minds for over three months! It sort of makes you wonder about the lives they lead when Bob is the hot topic of the big house LOL!

Sneaky Bob.

2007-04-27T11:58:00.000Z

I don’t have any walks to tell you about today, we did go on a walk this morning as usual, it started to rain and Bob had left his coat at home so we came back after a short way. Of course the minute you look like you are going in to the house Bob is telling me to stay on the door mat,

‘You’re not coming here with those feet’, he says.

Well its okay for him, he can take his feet off! So I have to wait on the door mat while he fetches my breakfast. The minute I get done though he’s telling me in a stern voice to ‘Stay’, or sometimes he will tell me to get my feel licked. My feet are too dirty to walk on the kitchen floor but he expects me to put them in my mouth.

He’s been trying to trick me today. I’m having forty winks on his bed and I hear him sneak in from work, I can’t be bothered to get up though so I lie there a while until I hear him sneaking up the stairs so I quickly jump off the bed and meet him before he can see me on the bed. I’ve caught him twice with his camera today, I know he’s trying to get a picture of me, he’s got to be quicker than that to catch me though – LOL!

Anyway it’s like I keep telling him when he’s pulling my leg about being a useless guard dog, if he wants me to be a guard dog I need a wage rise, a nice plate of liver and onions or a steak a day isn’t too much to ask for is it?

Best wishes,
Misunderstood Tommy.

Bleaklow Stones.

2007-04-25T12:17:00.000Z

For the first part of this walk see Tuesday, October 24, 2006 as it’s the same route as far as Alport Castles. Bob didn’t have his usual camera with him and it wasn’t until nearly reaching Bleaklow Hill that he realised he wasn’t using it right. He should concentrate on what he’s doing instead of keep telling me what I should be doing.

This first picture is as we reached Bleaklow Hill, we’d already had a break at Alport Castles but Bob was ready for another one by now as it was quite a long way across those moors.

We quite enjoyed ourselves looking around at all the rocks, Bob told me that it was the weather that carved all the different shapes, I thought this one looks like an anvil.

Bob liked the one below, he reckons that if a human carved this he would be called a genius and be able to buy a small house with the money he could get from selling it. I’ve been trying to tell him for ages that humans aren’t as smart as they think they are cos mother nature carved it for free without even trying, that’s what I call genius.

Well come on now, we’ve still got a long way to go, I think Bob would still be there now sleeping in the heather if I didn’t go and sit on him, I wanted to get going though because I could smell a hare just down the hill from where were resting. Unfortunately as we got closer Bob made me walk to heel, I didn’t want too but I chased one earlier and Bob got angry cos I ran off so he fastened me to the lead and made me pull him up the hill so I did as I was told this time. He said I was a good boy and gave me a biscuit so I guess it was okay really.

A bit further down the hill we came upon a small lake, I really wanted to jump in because that’s my fav thing to do, I wasn’t sure Bob would like it though so I waited by the edge until he caught up with me and guess what? He told me to jump in the lake, it was so good and I really enjoyed splashing around trying to catch the ripples.
The next bit of the walk was down a deep gully cut in to the peat, Bob said we could do with some of this peat for our garden, it would have been a long way to carry it home though.

In this next picture I’m just on my way back to see what’s keeping Bob, he’s a bit slow sometimes.

We had to cross the river you see below, it was a steep climb up to the track from the river so we stopped for a rest and Bob took this picture to show you where we had just come from.

As we walked down the track to Slippery Stones the weather brightened up no end, it had been quite dull for most of the walk. I think Bob was getting ready for another rest because I was having to keep waiting for him. I kept on wishing he would let me go play in the river but he never said anything so I just stayed on the track.

At Slippery Stones we stopped for another break, I like breaks because Bob shares his cheese sandwiches and cake with me. This was a really nice place to stay because it was right by the river and Bob let me play in it while he rested. We had such fun I didn't want to leave.

There was still another four miles to walk and after already walking thirteen miles we were getting a bit tired and the time was getting on so we had to leave but Bob promised to take me there again one day. On the way back from Slippery Stones we met up with my grandma who had been having a little walk by herself – she is even slower than Bob so can’t walk very far so she went by herself. With all the excitement I hadn’t realised how tired I was but when I saw the car I just wanted to get in and have a sleep. Bob Lifted me in the back of the car because I didn’t feel like jumping. We had a really good day and we went back to grandma’s to eat some fish and chips.
Tom.

Note 'Walking Into A New Life'.

2007-01-01T17:35:00.000Z

The story below, 'Walking Into A New Life' was written 18 years ago shortly after the walk was completed. I won't give any details here but will explain that it was not only my first walk in Scotland but my first ever visit there so everything was quite a novelty to me. I realise that in places I talk about walkers not being in abundance and compared to where I come from that is still true to some extent but there are more walkers visiting Scotland than I was aware of at the time, just that they are so obvious due to the extent of the wilderness. No doubt there are local people who think that they are over run by tourists but compared to the Peak District where I came from Scotland at the time felt deserted. Also I talk about Kinlochbervie not being somewhere you would want to stay. At the time of this walk the place was a mess due to a lot of work being done in the village and docks. I've been back many times since and it is very pleasant. If anyone should want details of anything they see leave me a comment and I will do my best to answer. This story is going to be posted in several parts over the coming week so if its not all there when you visit pop back in a couple of days for the next instalment which will follow on from the bottom of the last post so be sure to keep on scrolling down.

Walking Into A New Life (Ledmore To Clachtoll).

2007-01-01T11:00:00.000Z

I started my walk to Sandwood Bay close to a place called “Ledmore Junction”, which is situated about fifteen miles north east of Ullapool. It was only a small place as were most of the places I passed through, quite often there were more letters in the name than there were houses in the village.

As I waved goodbye to my parents I felt this was going to be a greater adventure than even the Pennine Way had been. I immediately felt at home in these surroundings, even though I’d never been here or seen anything like it before. I greatly appreciate the wild places close to where I live, and consider myself quite fortunate, but they are no more than a child’s toy compared to this. This is a real wilderness, it would take me a life time of Saturdays to fully explore this place.
The first part of my walk took me down GlenCanisp, the weather was as beautiful as the scenery, everything was perfect. After only a few minutes walking I came upon my first loch, Cam Loch. From here I could see the mountain called Suilven, which lay in my direction of travel and was really where I wanted to be by lunch time. Before then I’d got to carry on along the shores of Cam Loch, turn north and then cross a ridge to pass Loch an Fada and the mountain of Canisp. Both lay to my right as I walked down the glen eventually reaching Loch na Gainimh, which lies below the towering Suilven. I went to the end of this loch and stopped for lunch.Afterwards I continued along the rough track which was becoming more distinct all the time, to Glencanisp Lodge which stood amongst trees on the banks of Loch Druim Suardalain.

There’s one aspect of walking where I’m really lacking in confidence, and that is when it comes to passing through people property. E.g. farmyards, and gardens etc., Glencanisp Lodge was one of those places. It was a big house with an even bigger garden, not that I paid much attention to either. I passed through the garden and in front of the house looking nowhere but straight ahead and trying without much success to be as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Once through the garden I began to relax again, I was now walking along a tarmac drive, and the air was filled with the scent of flowering Gorse. After a mile the open drive became a walled lane, which led to the small port of Lochinver.

As I walked along the sea front Loch Inver to my left and Lochinver to my right, I realised that for me life could get no better than this. I wanted for nothing – well almost nothing, I did need a couple of postcards, so I popped into a shop and bought a couple.

My present situation of contentment began to go down hill whilst on my way up hill out of Lochinver and it continued to get worse over the next day or so. Soon after leaving Lochinver, and just before the road to Clachtoll a car came up from behind and slowed to a halt alongside.

“where are you going?” asked the man driving the Ford Cortina Estate.

Why couldn’t he have asked me something simple – like who is Jacques Alexandre C’sar Charles?! I could have answered that. But oh no, he had to be difficult and want to know where I was going. How do you tell someone you are heading for Loch Leadhed a’ Bhaile Fhoghair? I did try but by the look on his face I got the impression that he thought I was swearing at him. So not wanting to cause offence I quickly stopped and instead showed him where I was going on my map. He was out of the car and had the back up ready to put my rucksack in before you could say Loch Leadhed a’ Bhaile Fhoghair!

“I’m going that way myself, I’ll give you a ride”, he said.

I don’t know what it is about me when I’m on a long walk, but people continuously seem to take pity on me. Try as I might I couldn’t make this man see that I enjoyed walking up hills with a forty pound pack on a boiling hot day.

“No, it’s alright, I’m on a walking holiday, I’m enjoying myself.” I said.

It was no use, the more I refuse the more he insisted. He was almost begging by the time I agreed to let him take me, this made his day! He told me he used to be a builder from Brighton and that he had moved up to Sutherland to run a guest house and to get away from the rat race.

It was during this part of my journey that I discovered I was something of a novelty in these parts, or at least what I was doing was. He was really interested in my walk so much so that by the time we reached Clachtoll I felt quite a celebrity. Clachtoll was the place where he dropped me off saying – “There, that was better than walking wasn’t it”?

I hadn’t the heart to tell him that is wasn’t.

At Clachtoll there was a camp site which I decided to make use of, it was close to Loch Leadhed a’ Bhaile Fhoghair so it made very little difference t the mileage I would have to do tomorrow.

The owner of the site was very apologetic at having to put me so far away from the toilet block. Once again I felt a certain amount of pity aimed in my direction, after all what does three hundred yards matter when you’ve already walked eighteen miles.
After a meal of Shepherds Pie followed by apples and custard and a mug of tea I decided to explore my surroundings and I discovered beauty at every turn. At one point a beam of multi-coloured light burst through the clouds to target itself on a now distant Lochinver.

It was like something from a sci-fi movie. After a couple of hours wandering and with rain threatening I decided to return to my tent. As I was approaching a green and cream caravan an old lady came towards me, I politely bid her good evening. I was to regret this later for without a doubt I wold have enjoyed the rest of my holiday far more had I completely ignored her. But I didn’t and now I had to pay the price.

After a few minutes idle chit chat the lady asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Like a fool I replied, “Yes please, as long as it’s no trouble”.

The lady assured me that is wasn’t.

“Come in to my caravan”, said the lady to the walker.

This I did and willingly so. It was like walking in on the ‘Waltons’, you know, the ones from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. There wasn’t as many of them but the welcome was just as warm. They soon had me sat down on one of the beds. I sat drinking coffee whilst we talked about the usual things strangers talk about. As is the case when one id enjoying one’s self the time passes quickly, so before I knew where I was the time had come to say, “goodnight John Boy” or in this case Pearl, Vicki, and Fallon.

I lay in my tent feeling mortally wounded, embedded deep in my heart were three arrows fired from cupids bow.

To be continued below....

Walking Into A New Life (Clachtoll To Quinag).

2007-01-01T10:00:00.000Z

Today’s walk was to seventeen miles in length, all but the last three miles being along a public road. The road was like a roller coaster, up, then down, twisting first this way, then that. Always the scenery was beautiful. Even though my heart wasn’t in the walk, I never tired of it for a moment. I passed from one bay to the next, one loch to another, each one different from the last, and each one had its own special beauty. A mile from Clachtoll I passed the Bay Of Stoer, followed by Clashnessie Bay, Loch Drumbeg and Nedd.

It was shortly after Nedd I got my first good view of Quinag. I was aiming to spend the night at Loch an Bealach Cornaidh which is on the eastern slopes of Quinag. But before that I’d another seven miles and more bays and lochs to pass.

The first being Loch Ardhhair followed by another climb, this one leading to excellent views to my left of Eddrachillis Bay.

Still the road stretched out before me. It lay draped across the landscape like a piece of discarded string, and as the road continued on its way so did I, to Loch a’ chairn Bhain.

From this point I could see the Kylesku Bridge, it was also at this point, or shortly afterwards that I left the road to find a place to pitch my tent.

Kylesku Bridge in the far distance.

I was sorry to leave the road, for one thing the occupants of the few cars I’d see during the day had either given me a friendly toot-toot on their car horns, or a cheery wave as they passed by. I found it to be a morale booster, and morale had been in very short supply since leaving Clachtoll. My other reason being, once off the road walking became very strenuous, mostly over trackless, rough, and boggy terrain.

From leaving the road to where I pitched my tent was three miles and it was the roughest and wettest three miles I’d ever walked. After two miles of excessive exertion, and intense concentration I trod awkwardly on a tussock of grass and a part of my left leg immediately snapped in protest. Thankfully it was nothing serious and after a short rest I was able to press on with very little discomfort.
On reaching my intended campsite I had a decision to make, between pitching on boggy ground or on a tussocks of grass. I couldn’t make my mind up at first, I didn’t fancy either so I dropped my rucksack and scouted around for something better, if there was anything I couldn’t find it so I returned to my sack. It would be more comfortable lying in a bog, but having a lightweight tent meant I also had had a lightweight ground sheet, I could see that even a pin prick of a hole would cause the tent to become flooded. So I chose the site with the tussocks. As it came on to rain this was the point where my morale was at its lowest ebb, things couldn’t get any worse. Apart from my now stiffening leg, and the heartache I felt for my three friends from Clachtoll, I now had to live with an enormous tussock plonk in the middle of my tent.

I remember going to bed early that night for no other reason than to escape the utter misery.

To be continued below...

Walking Into A New Life (Quinag To Scourie).

2007-01-01T09:00:00.000Z

Things did improve the next day, so much so that by nightfall I would once again be full of high spirits. Again I woke to the sound of gently falling rain, Quinag was shrouded in mist, and my leg was as stiff as the fastener on my wallet – who said things couldn’t get any worse! I rushed breakfast and broke camp in record time, all I wanted to do was to get away from that godforsaken hole – or in this case – hump! I did think of taking a photo of the offending tussock, but not for long, who needs to be reminded of such things.From the camp I had a mile to walk across more rough terrain, before I once again reached a public road. After ten minutes walking down the public road I came to the junction with the coastal route that I’d left late yesterday afternoon. Today’s target was Scourie.

When planning the route it had never been my intention to visit Scourie, instead I was going to leave the coast road and head inland to spend the night at another wild pitch somewhere close to Ben Stack. However given last nights performance and my present frame of mind, I decided to seek the sanctuary of Scourie campsite. That’s the beauty of backpacking, one is almost as free as the birds. Just before reaching Unapool, I saw an old man and woman who appeared to have spent the night in the back of a van parked in a lay-by. Judging by the looks on their faces, their night had been as uncomfortable as mine. The woman was washing herself and he man was cooking breakfast by the side of the van. They gave me the sort of look my granny usually saves especially for rock bands like AC/DC!

As I reached Unapool the rain stopped and when crossing the Kylesku Bridge one and a half miles later the sun tried to shine. There, didn’t I tell you things would get better. Kylesku Bridge is a new bridge, it was opened by Her Majesty the Queen on the 8th August 1984. before the bridge was built the only way across the water was by ferry. By all accounts this was a desperate bottle neck which at times meant long delays.

Now there’s a big new road two lanes wide, this was a road with a purpose and pride. This road didn’t dodge mountains or loch, this road had bridges and blasted straight through the hard rock. Nothing stood in its way, for me this was to be the road to Scourie Bay. Gone were the waving tourists of yesterday, to be replace instead by stern faced white knuckle drivers who knew their way. The scream of their steeds could be heard for miles, the occupants of whom all passed without smiles. At the sight of their plight I soon realised it was wrong to spend the day feeling demoralised.

For six miles I walked this road, eventually coming upon a sign intended to goad, “Private Road, No Vehicles, Walkers Welcome”. Since Ledmore Junction this was the first sign I’d had that walkers existed in Scotland, let alone that they were welcome. I must add that this sign was at the entrance to a nature reserve, I couldn’t help but wondering with walkers being scarce so far north if this was the way of attracting a rare species to their reserve, anyway it worked. My walk through the nature reserve was a delight, the route I followed was the route of the old coast road which had lain abandoned since the new road was built. Before long the road forked, the left hand going in to the sea, like a slipway. The right hand road disappearing around a corner, I decided the right hand road was the better alternative.

The sun was now shinning strongly, so I chose a comfy place overlooking Loch Duarlbeg and had my lunch.

After lunch I left the nature reserve and passed through Lower Badcall. A short way down the road was Upper Badcall, and later the next day I was to pass through another, this one was simply called Badcall. I arrived at Scourie at about five in the afternoon. I found the campsite, and then the warden, who found me a pitch at the top of a series of terraces overlooking Scourie Bay.

I’d pitched my tent and was enjoying what I thought was a well earned cup of tea when I heard a familiar voice, it was Fallon, the little girl from Clachtoll. I couldn’t believe it, the effect the Sound of her voice had on me can be likened to the effect of a starting pistol has on a sprinter. I’d got my boots on and was out of the tent in a flash, despite my aching leg. They seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see them. They informed me that they were taking a run up to Durness and that they would pop in and see me on the way back. As they were about to leave, into the car park drove my Mum and Dad, where were all these people last night? Thankfully my friends were as good as their word, and called in to see me on the return journey. They spoke with great enthusiasm about the golden sands at Durness and of a multi-coloured rock face at Laxford Bridge. I spent another enjoyable hour in their company. This time before saying goodbye I persuaded them to let me take a photo of them, I also got their address.

This piece of information made parting much easier. In fact the paper with the address written on it was like a peace treaty. The battle inside me was now over, I was once again my old contented self. My heart and my head were again pulling in the same direction. I went down to the waters edge and listened, and watched the calm sea gently slapping the rocks. The evening air was warm, not only was there peace within me, but there was peace all around. Everything was perfect —even the sunset over Scourie Bay.

To be continued below....

Walking Into A New Life.(Scourie To Sheigra).

2007-01-01T08:00:00.000Z

I left Scourie early the next morning. I’d got more than twenty miles to walk today, and it looked like being hot. Again the day’s walk was to be along public roads to either Oldshoremore or Sheigra, depending on whether or not I liked what I found at Oldshoremore. When I talk about walking along public roads, don’t get the impression that I was forever dodging cars or whatever because there were no cars — well not many anyway. A lot of the way the road was nothing more than a single track road with passing places. My first port of call today was Laxford Bridge seven miles from Scourie, which I reached after passing Loch na Claise Fearna, and Badnabay.

The views I had over Laxford Bay were stunning, the sky was almost totally clear and blue, the water was crystal clear and invitingly cool.

Shortly after Laxford Bridge I came to the multi-coloured rock face Pearl had told me about the night before - it was truly marvelous, although I was to see some even better the next day.

Five miles on from Laxford Bridge I arrived at a place called Rhiconich,which is situated at the south eastern end of Loch Inchard.

After Rhiconich I stopped for lunch, I sat under a blazing sun, to the northwest I could look out over the dark blue waters of Loch Inchard.

To the southeast I had an excellent view of the mountains, Foinaven, Arkle and Ben Stack, So clear was the day it was hard to imagine Ben Stack was seven miles away.

The following four miles to Kinlochbervie which is situated at the other end of Loch Inchard could be classed as a built-up area in these parts. I must have passed nearly thirty dwellings which made up the three villages of Achriesgill, Inshegra, and Badcall.

No matter how benevolent one is you would be hard pressed to say that Kinlochbervie was anything but a mess when I passed through it. The road into and through the village was being considerably upgraded. Then there was extensive re-development going on around the docks area. All in all I was pleased to put the fishing port of Kinlochbervie behind me.

I was also just as pleased to reach Oldshoremore two miles further on.

The heat of the day was beginning to take its toll. The sun was still beating down from a cloudless sky. Apart from making me hot, it was also making me very weary — and sunburnt!

Leaning against a fence post, just before reaching my intended camp site at Oldshoremore was a sign that read, "Camping", And an arrow pointing down a narrow, steeply descending road that led to the sea. Mmm! I thought, it would be nice to spend another night camped by the sea. So, I decided to check it out. On the way down the hill I passed a bungalow, in the garden an old man sat in a deck chair, looking out over the beautiful sun drenched bay. Ah! thats the life, I thought to myself. Sadly it’s the sort of life that was not a part of mine. Instead I had to press on down the ever steeper hill, past a large caravan that was home for a lot of brown hens.

"Enjoying your holidays, ladies?" I asked, very softly, just in case someone was listening. The sun had addled my brain but I didn't want everyone to know it!

The camp site at the bottom of the hill was heavenly. I could quite happily have spent the night there had it not meant sharing the field with four cows. Sure there was already a tent and three caravans in the field and the cows weren't paying them the slightest bit of attention. However, knowing how inquisitive cows can be I decided not to chance my luck, besides there were two more sites close by, and even if neither of those were satisfactory there was no shortage of moorland to choose from. I reckoned it was better to spend another night sleeping on a tussock than have a cow spend the night sleeping on me!

So, with reluctance I retraced my footsteps back up the hill, past the hens who cocked a head calmly, and on past the old man who must have thought me barmy, to the second camp site at Oldshoremore. This one was as ugly as the last one had been beautiful. The site was small, surrounded on three sides by tall conifers, the fourth side being occupied by a large house. If it was part of your garden, it’s the sort of place where you would keep the dust bins, or make the compost heap. The day and my mood were much too bright to have to stay at such a gloomy site. I put my rucksack down, then sat on the warm, soft grass drinking water and looking at the map ‑ it was so hot! Perhaps the cool shade of those trees wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. But even more tempting was the sight that greeted my eyes as I gazed at the map. The impression it gave was of the camp site at Sheigra being really close to the sea and a sandy beach. If only Sheigra wasn't a further three miles along this narrow, twisting, melting road. But, even so the temptation was too great, and so off I set once more, first of all cursing my leg for being so stiff, then after a while the glorious scenery once again started acting like a pain killer and I started to thank my lucky stars that I had two legs thus enabling me to enjoy such a wonderful pastime.

The walk past Oldshore Beg, Blairmore, Balchrick, and on to Sheigra was an absolute delight. To the right was endless sun drenched, rugged moorland, to the left, the dark blue sea. After Balchrick I descended a hill, rounded a corner, and came face to face with paradise.

Paradise of course means different things to different people. If you like busy streets, bright lights, amusement arcades, and noisy nights, then Sheigra is not for you. Sheigra is situated in a sheltered hollow, one end of which opens out to the sea. It had an air of peace and tranquillity about it that appealed to me immensely.

The campsite was situated just behind the little sandy beach. I pitched my tent and promptly set about preparing a shepherds pie, which I demolished with no problem. This was followed by a fruit cocktail and a cup of tea. After which I went exploring. First the beach, followed by a scramble up some rocks to survey my surroundings. Once again I found myself wonderstruck by the beauty before my eyes. The view to the south being particularly grand.

In amongst the rocks were lots of delightful little plants.

The view to the north west wasn't too bad either, especially when the sun was setting.

So captivated was I by this enchanting place I had to force myself to go to bed that night. One of the advantages of being so far north in the summer are the exceptionally long days. I never once saw it really dark, even at Shiegra when I closed my eyes for the last time at 11.45 p.m.

To Be Continued below...

Walking Into A New Life. (Sheigra To Sandwood Bay).

2007-01-01T06:00:00.000Z

The next morning dawned overcast. I wanted to get off to an early start, ,even though it was only five miles to Sandwood Bay ‑ my target for this walk. My need for an early start was a result of an ambition to walk along a deserted beach, in this case the golden sands of Sandwood Bay. I don't know why or when this ambition was born, but to achieve it would be the icing on the cake. So I set off at 8.30 only taking with me the things I required for the day, leaving the rest of my possessions in the tent. I won't do that again, not that it was a problem, but I can see how it could have been. For instance, had it not been my last day it would have been blissful to spend the night camped at Sandwood Bay, but you can't do that if the tent is at Shiegra.
From Shiegra I had to retrace some of my steps of the previous day. As I passed through Balchrick I couldn't help but marvel at the tiny post office a tin hut on the end of a house.

Between Balchrick and Blairmore I left the public highway for a rough track heading north. After walking for a mile down this track my hopes of finding the beach at Sandwood Bay deserted were seriously dashed. Along the rough track came a car, in it was a man and woman. The car bounced and swayed along at a crawl, a crawl that happened to be three times faster than I could walk! All I could do was quicken my pace and watch in dismay as they disappeared down the track. But as long as you don't give up there's always a chance. I knew they'd have to leave their car at some point. According to the map the track came to an end at Loch a' Mhuilinn.

Fortunately they had to abandon their car before the‑tracks end, but even so they were still quite away in front. They were now travelling on foot which meant it was now that I had the advantage. While they picked their way slowly over the rough ground, I took rocks, boulders, and mud in my stride. It wasn't long before I'd closed the gap between us and was extending it again. This time in my favour.

There was now just one more hill to climb, as I crested the rise the whole of Sandwood Bay stretched out before me. It looked very beautiful, as I was sure it would from the things I'd read about it.

I suddenly felt excited, like a young boy at the start of school holidays. I longed to run down to the beach shouting 'I've made it I've made it!' On the other hand I wanted to stroll through the sand‑dunes and revel in my moment of glory. Walking on to the beach was like walking onto a stage, I expected a round of applause, I didn't get one, but it made no difference, the thrill was just the same.

I hope you enjoyed that little walk as much as I did and now you also know how I met my wife. We did keep in touch when we all got home, her to Coventry and me to Derbyshire and just over a year later we got married and moved to Scotland for five years. We have been back to Sandwood bay many times since but were stopped from doing so in the last year because for some reason someone has taken it upon themselves to ban dogs and as we can't leave them anywhere for the day its stopped us from going not only there but it is not often we visit that part of Scotland now as there are limitations on the beach at Oldshoremore too, or at least there was the last time we were there. You just don't need the hassle when you're on holiday so we take our money and spend it at Poolewe instead.

One more thing, if you ever visit Sandwood Bay, never take anything from it because apparently the place is haunted, the ghost being seen several times by different people and it's said that if you take home a pebble from the beach it will bring you nothing but bad luck!

THE END

Note

2006-11-14T21:41:00.000Z

These walks are posted in such a way that to follow on from one part to the next you just need to keep scrolling down the page. If anyone local to the area or visiting wants details of any of the walks I feature I will only be too happy to give what advice I can. Under the right circumstances you may even be welcome to join us.

Autumn Storms Over Cakes Of Bread (Part 1)

2006-11-13T18:09:00.000Z

Last Saturday me and Tommy drove over to the Derwent Valley where we were to embark on another hike in the hills. Tommy was very excited and never settled down all the way there in the car. When we arrived we had the car parking area to ourselves but before I got my boots laced up and Tommy sorted out another car arrived and even though there was a completely empty car park apart from us they decided they wanted to park right where my rucksack was lying next to my car so I hopped over with one boot on and the other half off and dragged my sack out of the way. I think even Tommy was impressed by the enormous sigh of disbelief I gave and he’s an expert at sighing. I brought along Tommy’s leather harness for this walk as I prefer it to the collar as it pulls more evenly on his body rather than just his neck.

We set off from the car park at around 11 am, it was a bit overcast and breezy but pleasant enough for a walk. On reaching the Derwent water and as there was no one around for him to bother I let Tommy free and he immediately decided it would be fun to chase some ducks so he was soon back on the lead for his troubles. The way along by the water was very colourful, the trees varying from brown to green.

We had the track to ourselves, Tommy’s lead was fastened to the belt of my rucksack, and as long as we were moving forward he seemed quite happy to be dragging me along. I wondered what would happen if he spotted another duck, I had visions of being dragged off in to the water by him. He was very patient though because I stopped many times to take a picture of one thing or another. All the wonderful colours made it hard to pass up a chance to snap a picture every few minutes.
On rounding a corner near the end of the Derwent water we spied the Howden Dam through the trees, it was quite a wonderful sight with it’s stone towers and water running over the wall between them, I half wished we were continuing along the track so we could get a closer look but shortly we are going to be leaving the track and climbing the small path in to the hills by Abbey Brook.

Looking to the Howden Dam.

View back and across the water.

A tree across the water, I liked how the branches showed like veins against the other trees.

Before this however we came upon one of our favourite places to have a break, it’s the seat in memory of James Stanley Byford, if vacant we always stop here for a rest and a look at the view.

A favourite place to sit.

Sit, take in the view and prepare for the hills.

So y’all come and have a sit down and prepare yourself for the climb in to the hills, its going to be no picnic this day so be sure to rest well my friends.

To be continued.....

Autumn Storms Over Cakes Of Bread (Part 2)

2006-11-13T18:00:00.000Z

If you’ve all done sitting on that there seat we will be off a bit further. Just a short way after leaving the seat we also leave the track that we have followed so far, Tommy is now running free once again as we huff and puff our way up quite a steep incline through pine trees to the open moors where the path narrows and levels out. I stop for a minute here to catch my breath. I was telling Tommy to hang on a minute as I was all puffed out but then I got to thinking, was I really puffed out. I don’t know about your part of the world but here one tends to get frowned up on by some for referring to things as puffs. Apparently a better word to use is gay although to me that means you are happy, but then I guess I was quite happy even though I was out of puff.

Well time passed and old Tom was getting bored and had gone in search of a stick which as usual he found and as usual it was the biggest stick around.

Tommy hunting for sticks.

So off we set once more with a spring in my step now that I was no longer all gayed out. Every few yards Tommy would drop his stick and wait for me to pick it up and throw it for him to chase, I wasn’t about to get in to that one at this stage of the walk, there was a long way to go yet, so over it I would step and past me he would rush to retrieve his beloved stick which he did before rushing back past me hitting me on the backs of the legs every single time with that wretched stick.

Tommy waiting in vain to play stick.

We are climbing gently, Abbey Brook is now quite a way below us to the left and the hill climbing steeply to our right as we contoured the hillside through rough brown grass. The path, though narrow is a good one and fairly level and the going is easy except for a few climbs where the hillside can’t be contoured without making long detours. After each climb we stopped for a look back and during each climb I noticed my heel rubbing on the back of my boots.

Looking back.

For some reason that even I find hard to explain I had decided to go walking in my work boots, this despite that fact that I discovered over twenty years ago that they make terrible walking boots and the only thing for walking the hills in are proper walking boots. You can make do with any manner of other things but your boots and pack have to be the real deal. I have a pair of good walking boots but for some reason I decided that I needed reinforce my theory on walking boots versus working boots. I love my work boots they are so comfy – for working in, and I think it was this comfort that lured me in to taking them for a walk last weekend. It wasn’t a serious problem and there were several advantages to be had wearing them apposed to wearing my walking boots, if only that little guy would stop carving chunks out of my heel with his wood chisel every time we climb a hill.
We have now come about five miles and were about to leave the Abbey Brook path and take the path to find the Lost Lad so as the wind was getting up and we have come to a sheltered place in the fork of a valley I think we will stop and have a spot of lunch and I can also try and sort out these darn boots somehow.
Find a place by the stream in the shelter of that wall and hand around the cheese sandwiches, cake and biscuits – save some chocolate ones for me though. I’m afraid there is no tea today, just coffee from the thermos flask. The dog biscuits are for Tommy by the way! He won’t be right pleased if you go eating them! Anyway tuck in and then we will be fit and ready to carry on our walk.

To be continued...

Autumn Storms Over Cakes Of Bread (Part 3)

2006-11-13T17:50:00.000Z

We didn’t spend too long over lunch, just long enough to eat some sandwiches, have a drink of coffee and jiggle my socks around a bit to try and ease the problem with my heels. I thought that if I removed one pair it would loosen my foot in the boots thus taking away the pressure on my heels. It seems that a seam in the heel of the boot was cutting in to me. Anyway soon after setting off for Back Tor it was obvious that things were worse and not better, it felt like the little man was now using a saw instead of his chisel so within a few hundred yards I was stopped re-jiggling the socks back to the way they were before. It did make things a bit better, that and walking as flat footed as possible which wasn’t easy climbing a hill as I was. It was more or less all up hill to Back Tor. After climbing a while I would stop for a rest, usually to look back to see how far we had come but my feet were better off if I just kept going for some reason.

Looking back to Abbey Brook

On reaching the broad ridge that lead to Lost Lad we met the wind in all its glory. Tommy looked at me as if to say, ‘where did that come from’! With a little encouragement from me he was soon chasing round after his tail, that was until he got caught by the wind and was blown sideways in to a bog. I told him that it served him right for playing silly beggars and if he didn’t get himself cleaned up he was walking all the way home.

The climb to Lost Lad was quite easy because we had the wind at our tails. On the top the wind was doing all it could to blow us back off again. All around the sky was grey, the weather was closing in fast and even as we stood there it came on to rain. I’d had my coat on since lunch break but thought it was now time to get my water proof trousers on as well. I got them out of the sack and made several attempts to get a leg inside them but all I achieved was someone sort of dance, a very fine one with many complicated steps I might add but as that wasn’t what we were supposed to be doing and our objectives was no closer than when we started I decided to give up on the trousers and head off for Back Tor were there might be some shelter from the rocks.

The climb to Lost Lad

As we reached Back Tor my phone started to ring, it was Vicki wanting to know if I wanted her to get me a new harness for Tommy, it was just about impossible to hear her with the wind roaring around the rocks and the rain beating on my hood, also Tommy had done a disappearing so I had to cut her off until I could find shelter. I found Tommy hiding in the rocks with an old couple. He was jst telling them how I drag him away from the fireside on these long walks in all weathers without any food, you know, all the usual stuff. I told them to take no notice as he was just playing for sympathy in the hope of acquiring one of their sandwiches. I dragged away, he wasn’t very happy but I told him they were probably all soggy with the rain anyway.

Approaching Back Tor

We found out own little hole in the rocks and phoned Vicki back, then broke open the first aid kit and robbed it of two plasters, one for each heal and then managed to get my waterproof trousers on. Before leaving I got Tommy one of his biscuits, I didn’t want him calling in on his new found friends telling them I didn’t bring his coat along or some other tail of mistreatment.

Looking across the moors to Wheel Stones
The next part of our journey will take us along the Derwent Edge past ‘Cakes of Bread’, ‘Dovestone Tor’, ‘Salt Cellar’, ‘White Tor’ and on to ‘Wheel Stones’.

Autumn Storms Over Cakes Of Bread (Part 4)

2006-11-13T17:30:00.000Z

We set off along the edge, the wind was now coming from our right with such force that staggered along the narrow stone path like a drunk after a heavy drinking session. Each step was a labour the rain hitting me in the face like ball bearings. Many times I was blown from the path in to the long heather and boggy peat. I noticed that even though the rain was really lashing down there were places where the stones were still bone dry because the wind was whipping up and over the edge so fast that the rain didn’t even have time to touch the ground. The good thing about all this was that I was so wrapped up in doing battle with the elements I forgot all about the little guy sawing the heels off my feet.

Dove Stone Tor

Looking west to the plateau of Kinder Scout.

Colourful trees.

Wheel Stones from White Tor.

On White Tor Tommy found a lovely big pool of water to go of a paddle in.
From here we needed to turn right to descend from White Tor, this meant we were headed straight in to the wind. No sooner had we turned and I was blown a good ten feet back off the path. After trying again to descend by the path I gave it up as a bad job and skirted around to the left of White Tor which sheltered us from the worst of the wind.

We were now on the flat once again with the wind rushing in from the right and were headed for Wheel Stones which we reached without further problems. Here we took refuge in a small cave. The wind was roaring around the great rocks like some howling banshee, it was really quite awesome.
We didn’t stay there long as someone else was coming and as the cave is only big enough for two I thought I’d had my turn so now it was theirs also I wanted to get going as I didn’t want to be on the hill when the dark came on. Soon after leaving Wheel Stones we came to a fork in the path, here we had to turn right and head back down in to the valley.
As before when descending over the ridge in to the wind it was all we could do to keep from being blown away, I didn’t know walking down hill could be such hard work. Once over the brow of the hill the wind eased a little and it became much easier and the more we dropped down the side of the valley the less the wind blew.
On reaching an old barn that has been converted in to a shelter for walkers we were ready for a break and another coffee. We weren’t far from the lane that would take us back to the car so I was happy enough to take a minute here.
To be continued...

Autumn Storms Over Cakes Of Bread (Part 5)

2006-11-13T16:01:00.000Z

View from the shelter.

We stopped in the shelter for about fifteen minutes, just long enough to have a drink, finish off the rest of the sandwiches and biscuits and have a chat to a couple of passing walkers also with dogs. They were heading off up the hill and from here we continued on down to the lane that leads back long the sides of the Ladybower Reservoir to the car parking area.

Grazing sheep in the dusk.

As we tramped along the lane it get steadily darker and darker until by the time reached the car it was quite dark. It would have been even darker if Tommy had his way because as we passed the door of the ranger station he was hell bent in going on in there. I’m not sure why unless he had ideas of them calling out the mountain rescue to carry him back to the car. More probable was that he could smell one of the rangers left over cheese sandwiches or chocolate cake. Anyway I managed to drag him away and we were soon back at the car. I was surely grateful of that because the little guy in my boots had managed to get hold of a chainsaw the minute we hit the lane and boy was he giving my poor heels some stick with it.
It seemed like it had been a long day but we only just managed about 10 miles, we had a good day all the same and had it not been for the trials we had to endure it would have probably been not half as much fun.

Autumn Storms Over Cakes Of Bread (Additional Pictures).

2006-11-13T15:30:00.000Z

Here are a few aditional pictures taken in the shelter barn. I thought it was nice the way they were inlayed in to the walls of the old barn.

Fairholmes Via Alport Castles & Slippery Stones. (1)

2006-10-24T09:22:00.000Z

Tommy and I arrived by car at Fairholmes car park at around 10:30 and left on foot some 15 minutes later. Tommy was excited by the thought of a day in the hills as was I to some extent. The first part of our walk was a climb through dark woods to Lockerbrook Farm. Not long after entering the trees I decided to let Tommy off the lead but he was so excited that he just went off in all directions at the same time but worse still he didn’t come back to me when I shouted him so when I finally caught up to him he was put back on the lead at the same time being told that if he can’t do as he is told then attached to the lead he would stay.

Then there was a clearing in the trees there were some good views back across the valley. I wasn't bothered myself, being very fit and what have you but for Tommy's sake I stopped several times to check the views.

View across to Lockerbrook Farm

Looking to Lose Hill from Rowlee Pasture.

After pulling me up the hill to Lockerbrook I think he got the message because past Lockerbrook we headed out over the moors, there was another guy way up ahead but that was all so I let Tommy go again and this time he acted much better and although he strayed from the path a couple of times at first he came back the second I called him and soon he had the hang of following the path and leaving any tempting smells off the path to his imagination. We met someone going the opposite way to us, he stopped for a chat and before leaving gave Tommy a fuss, Tommy took the opportunity to check him out with a few sniffs to the trouser leg.

The Lone Walker On Birchin Lee Pasture.

We crossed Rowlee Pasture and Birchinlee Pasture to Alport Castles where we decided to stop and have some lunch. It was here that we caught up to the other hiker we had seen in the distance some way back, it turned out to be a teacher looking to meet up with some of his pupils who were out for a walk in the hills. He made himself comfortable under the old broken down wall and waited for the pupils to turn up, he was still waiting for them when we left after eating lunch. The wind was fairly whipping up the valley so we too looked for a sheltered place under the old stone wall. Tommy seemed to appreciate the views because he kept on going to the edge of the hill and looking down to the valley floor way below. Every now and then he came back to see if I left him anything which of course I did. He eventually made a bed by the side of me and had a little rest.

One of the rock formations at Alport Castles.

Fairholmes Via Alport Castles & Slippery Stones. (2)

2006-10-23T19:41:00.000Z

The wind was cold on the hill so we didn’t stay too long. We left Alport Castles and headed down off the hill to the Howden Reservoir. We’d not long been walking when Tommy stopped and started to be sick and he continued to be this way for the rest of the walk, I don’t know what caused him to be this way and he didn’t show any other signs of being ill, he still brought me sticks to throw and he was soon jumping around in any streams that we came upon.

The walk along the side of the Reservoir was very pleasant, much warmer than on the hill.

There were quite a few cyclists on this part of the walk too, one nearly made us jump out of our skins as neither me nor Tommy heard him approaching behind us.

We saw several lots of interesting and colourful toad stools on the way to Slippery Stones.

At Slippery Stones there is a river that Tommy likes to play in and there is a tree where I like to sit against and watch him, that’s if I don’t doze off to sleep. The sun was very warm here and so we stayed quite a while resting and drinking coffee from the flask I took along.

The Sleeping Tree At Slippery Stones.

From here it was just 4 miles along the track be the side of the reservoir back to the car. I hadn’t been hiking for a while so I was feeling a bit tired by now so I didn’t rush things, especially with Tommy still being sick every now and then, I was getting quite worried about him at this point.

Tommy Checking Out The Route.

Anyway we just about managed to stagger back to the car. The only thing that happened between Slippery Stones and the car was when we were about half way we stopped to look at some birds and this guy came past us and as he did so I noticed he had a walkie talkie clipped to his belt, this meant he was a park ranger. He got away down the track then turned and came back so I quickly fastened Tommy back on his lead. I don’t think he was bothered but I didn’t want to spoil the day by getting in to trouble for having my dog off the lead. It turned out he was coming back to take a picture of the birds, at least that’s what he said.

On the way to my parents we called in at Stoney Middleton and bought fish and chips for dinner. Thankfully Tommy wasn’t sick in the car, in fact he hasn’t been sick since we stopped walking so I don’t know what was going on with him. Anyway I had a good day and if Tommy doesn’t run and hide next time the backpack comes out I reckon that means he had a good day too.