The Way We See Things

I’ve seen God.

At least, I think it was Him: with piercing gaze, trademark long hair and big, bushy beard, He looked just like He does in all those Renaissance paintings.  So it must be true, right?

Cleverly, though, in order to pass unnoticed through His people, he had swapped the traditional flowing robes for a faded sweatshirt and jeans, and instead of descending triumphantly to Earth by the traditional conveyance of a cloud, heralded by Cherubim and Seraphim and backlit by celestial light, He opted instead for a Y Reg red Fiesta.

Perception. The way we see and understand things can be affected by so many factors: quality of information, assumption, learning, stereotyping, or – sometimes – just a simple misunderstanding of the facts.

Before last weekend, if anyone had asked me how we were doing on the mileage front compared to late March any other year, I would have said we were well down. Lack of time and poor weather for the first few weeks must have impacted on our total. With evidence like that, it must be true - right?

Climbing out of Carding Mill Valley

But today's walk of 10.75 miles has nudged us over the hundred-mile-cumulative mark, and this puts us pretty much slap bang in the middle of the spread of totals from previous years.


Last Sunday we took on a circuit we have done several times before - from Church Stretton, on to the Long Mynd via Carding Mill Valley, over Pole Bank, down Minton Batch and back on a lower route of field paths and lanes through Little Stretton.

As we began our climb out of Carding Mill Valley, the schizophrenic nature of the day's weather showed itself: one moment we were bathed in spring sunshine, the next we were assaulted by winter sleet and hail.



Looking to Corndon Hill, with snow capped Cadair Idris just visible on the horizon



But by the time we had reached the top, conditions had settled and a gradual improvement to the day commenced. The walk along the top of the Mynd is easy enough, with good, clear paths all the way, and sections of metaled road in places. However, despite the ease of progress, the views remain excellent, and we could see not only the summits of the nearby Stretton Hills but further afield as well: enough to see that some of the other tops were getting a squally shower – and a light dusting of snow capping distant Cadair Idris.



Descending into Minton Batch

By the time we began our descent, spring had returned, and layers required to keep rain and wind at bay were hastily shed. Minton Batch is an attractive clough, and one of the quieter ways off the hill: still subject to the odd strafing by MTB riders, but comparatively peaceful for the most part. The only downside is the farm at the bottom: as we have commented before, the owner must have lost all sense of shame and self-respect, and – if anything – it was a worse mess than last time we passed: this being a matter of fact, not perception.

What a mess: since our last visit, a selection of three clapped out old
tractors has been added to the collection

More mess: black plastic wrapping hanging from skeletal tree
branches like huge dead bats

The final stretch passes along lanes and via fields through Minton and Little Stretton before meeting the road back into Church Stretton. Despite a relative lack of “match fitness” we were pleased to see our moving speed and walking time stats compared quite well to our norm, so perhaps we are not as far behind other years in that respect, either. 

Perception: it just depends on how you look at things. In this case, wrong about our achievements so far this year, but right about that farm!

 

Spring Has Sprung ….

Finally, after it was beginning to feel like we’d never see the back of winter, spring appears to have arrived. OK, so there’s been the odd cold, wet back-slip-to-February kind of day here and there, but increasingly the sun has shone and temperatures have been creeping up – first into double figures, then breaking the 20°C barrier.

Along with the obvious signs of spring, May has also heralded the beginning of a busy summer season of walking, and the trips we have been planning throughout the long, dark winter months are getting steadily nearer. Routes have been researched, plans have been made, and gear has been bought: all of which will bear fruit in the months to come.

Besides this, we have stepped up the walking, coped with a draining time at work and been involved in several family-and-friend commitments, the result of which has been a busy few weeks – hence this summary rather than detailed posts on a route-by-route basis.

Since Easter, we have concentrated in topping up our walking fitness in readiness for the treks to come – 8 to 12 miles every other weekend (a typical winter schedule) is not the same as the 15 to 20 miles per day on consecutive days that we will need to be doing. Mostly, this has taken the form of some local circuits to get some miles in our legs, coupled with a few longer ‘training’ walks to add time on our feet and a few hills to the mix.

The good thing is that the effort seems to have paid off. Last weekend we did the second of two jaunts over the Long Mynd and back again (about 13.25 miles each time, and the source of the accompanying photographs) with no discernable difficulty, even though we felt a bit tired and our energy levels seemed low right from the outset.

The Long Mynd: Carding Mill Valley & Minton Batch – 10.75 miles

Saturday 16th February 2013

Map: OS Explorer OL217 – The Long Mynd & Wenlock Edge

Church Stretton – Carding Mill Valley – The Port Way – Shooting Box – Pole Bank – Minton Batch – Minton – Little Stretton – Church Stretton

At last, a proper walk!

The triple constellations of climate, opportunity and inclination came into alignment, and, for the first time in a long time, a trip into the hills beckoned.

Carding Mill Valley was beginning to get busy as we made our way through and began to climb out of the valley beside the tumbling beck. Taking the main route it’s a steady pull to the top: nothing too strenuous, but one that works the legs and lungs a bit after weeks of relative inactivity.

We turned southwards, making our way along the summit ridge towards the trig point at Pole Bank. There are great views to either side: Corndon Hill and the Stiperstones to the west, the linear ranks of the Shropshire Hills to the east.

After a brief lunch stop, we dropped down into the steep-sided gully of Minton Batch. The top section was wet and muddy, but this soon gave way to firmer footing – and running water. Apart from the occasional MTB, it’s a pretty quiet route off the Mynd. Buzzards can often be seen soaring overhead in the thermals and, as if in anticipation, the sun came out.

These pleasantly bucolic scenes were somewhat spoilt by the farm at the bottom of the clough. Now I’m the first to accept that the lot of a modern-day farmer is not necessarily a happy one, but we’ve been walking this circuit for three or four years now, and in all that time there has been little or no change.

For the life of me, I can’t see the attraction in living in such squalor – especially since the surrounding countryside is so beautiful, and the Shropshire Hills an AONB. Never mind the accumulation of old tyres, plastic, feed buckets, rolls of barbed wire and so on, you’d think the scrap value of the rotting vehicles alone – two Land Rovers, a tractor, a Transit van, an Escort van and two animal boxes at the last count – might be worth something.

But I digress.

For the remainder of the walk we were accompanied by warm sunshine. Beyond Little Stretton we climbed a steep bank above Ashes Hollow before dropping down to Church Stretton to finish the walk.

So, a first decent outing for some time, and one we definitely needed – both to shake off the lethargy that had begun to settle in and to kick-start the training we need to do to get back into shape. It seems a long way off at the moment but, come spring, we will need to be at our best if we are to get full enjoyment out of our planned route.

Looking Back: Looking Forward (II)

Who knows where the time goes? Sandy Denny didn't, and I’m sure I don’t. And greater minds than ours have long pondered this question without arriving at a conclusive answer. If they can’t crack it I doubt whether we can. What I do know, though, is that another Christmas and New Year have ticked round, and at this time of year it is customary to both reflect on events of the past twelve months and look forward to the year ahead.

2012 proved to be another pretty successful year for walking, something we weren’t quite expecting to be the case given that Missy G’s scheduled op threatened to take several weeks out of our walking calendar. And, as every UK walker will know, it has been the wettest year on record – wet enough to dampen the waterproofs if not the spirits! – and underfoot conditions have at times been what is known in the trade as “testing”. Only in Britain could a bog between two walls be classified as a footpath.

All in all, it would have come as no surprise if we had been considerably down on last year’s mileage, a year in which we achieved our best-ever annual walking total. In fact not only did we come close, we actually beat it – 738.75 miles of pure recreational walking! It just goes to show what you can do if you get organised.

We spent the last few days of the year popping here and there, visiting family and friends, and squeezing a walk in as we could, taking the chance to walk in their part of the world as well as locally in ours: a couple of days in the Shropshire Hills and a few more around Dentdale providing respite from the social demands of the season.

As can be seen from the accompanying photos, the wet trend of the year continued right to the last – and then some! Still, settling down to our New Year’s Eve celebrations round the warmth of an open fire, we could content ourselves with a sense of achievement and bask in a warm glow not entirely derived from alcohol alone. Rather than rely on Jools Holland and His Rhythm & Blues Bore-chestra, we saw the New Year in with Be-Bop Deluxe, Alabama 3, a Rolling Stones compilation and several bottle of decent Rioja. Satisfaction - in more ways than one.

Of course it remains to be seen how 2013 will develop, but we are already planning a few things that will hopefully take shape over the coming weeks. And, given the relative success of 2012, we shall be aiming for another record-breaking mileage – topping 800 miles would be nice, although we will have to go some to achieve that. OK, so we’ve had a slow start to the year so far, but there’s no harm in aiming high.

As for resolutions? Well I’ve made none as such, other than the usual: to do as much walking as possible and try to read more. Also I’d like to keep more up to date with the blogging (both my own and keeping up with others’) which has taken a bit of a node-dive in recent weeks. It's certainly good to have the renewed sense of enthusiasm the beginning of a new year can bring. 

Finally, on a slightly humorous note, we came across this scene while out walking on New Year’s Eve. As a way of summing up what this Christmas break has meant, I couldn’t imagine a more pertinent metaphor for a holiday if I tried!

Anyway, that’s enough for now. I’m looking forward to another great year, and I hope you are too: a new year full of excitement and adventures from everyone that will no doubt be shared across cyberspace. If it’s anything like last year, it should be a good read.

To be honest, I can’t wait!

A Long Weekend Round Bishop’s Castle – Part 2

Carding Mill Valley & Ashes Hollow – approx 8.00 miles.


Tuesday October 9th 2012

Map: OS Explorer OL217 – The Long Mynd & Wenlock Edge

Church Stretton – Carding Mill Valley – Long Mynd – Shooting Box – Boiling Well – Ashes Hollow – Little Stretton – The Owlets – Church Stretton.

Monday turned out to be a bit of a washout. We managed to complete a few more jobs in the morning, did a bit of shopping around Ludlow, and found ourselves in Knighton for lunch. Later, we went out for an unsatisfactory wallow from Llangunllo: a wet, muddy plod in rain and low cloud. Considering we were close to Glyndwr’s Way (and had meant to incorporate a stretch into our circuit) we were quite disappointed with the state of these connecting paths. Progress was generally awkward: slippery, poorly signed, and with gates difficult to open – and, given we were following a bridleway, some were tied irrevocably shut (get your horse through that). So we did something we very rarely do: turned back.

So, for today, we wanted to do something a bit more enjoyable – and reliable. In such circumstances the Long Mynd often comes to the rescue, with clear paths and straightforward route finding making for easy going.

We took the popular route into Carding Mill Valley, then on up to the broad ridge of the Long Mynd, dodging school parties as we went. We do this route quite often – after all it is one of the main routes to the top – but it always seems to have something to offer every time. Today the stream was in high water after copious recent rains, and it never ceases to amaze me just how Alpine the upper reaches of the valley feel at times.

On top it is a different world, with heathery moorland being the dominant landscape. We followed the main path towards Pole Bank, turning left shortly before the summit to meet the road at Boiling Well and the start of the route into Ashes Hollow.

I must confess, despite having walked the area quite a lot in recent years, we have never taken this major route before. And what a revelation! After a muddy start, the path plunges through scenery not unlike Grindsbrook Clough or one of the other streams tumbling off the Kinder plateau. We managed to pick a line that closely followed the stream, offering a few easy crossings and a bit of hands-on work too – nothing too taxing, but a bit of fun nonetheless.

From Little Stretton, we took a path atop a steep bank before descending towards the road, through The Owlets, and back into town. Three and a half lovely hours before the drive back home and work tomorrow.



A Long Weekend Round Bishop’s Castle – Part 1

On Offa – approx 13.00 miles.

Sunday October 7th 2012

Map: OS Explorer OL216 – Welshpool & Montgomery

Bishop’s Castle – The Wintles – Seven Wells – Shepherdswhim – Bishop’s Moat – Dog And Duck Cottage – Offa’s Dyke Path (S) – Nut Wood – Churchtown – Knuck Wood – Shropshire Way – Reilthtop – Middle Woodbatch – Bishop’s Castle.

Weather forecasters, eh? What an unreliable bunch.

As our long-awaited long weekend in the Shropshire/Powys border area drew nearer, we’d been keeping a close eye on the forecast – only to be promised the kind of weather that would have Noah whetting his chisel.

So we had planned accordingly. Though Saturday’s weather was nothing special, we’d managed to squeeze a short stroll in between the showers and the errands we had to run. Sunday was due to be awful, with low cloud and heavy rain set to dominate, and we held out little hope of a meaningful outing.

But we woke to an unexpectedly bright morning that had us reaching for our kit much earlier than planned, and I hastily cobbled together this route to take advantage of the sunshine and blue skies. As many of you will know, Shropshire is well-endowed when it comes to footpaths, but flaunts her charms demurely, with both major routes and minor paths being well represented.

Our route was a circuit linking parts of four of these paths. From the centre of Bishop’s Castle we followed the route of the BC Ring, a 60-odd-mile circuit encircling the town, heading west towards The Wintles. The BC Ring is not marked on OS maps though it is clearly waymarked, and the route is described in a small booklet available locally.

A gentle climb rewarded us with views back over town and north towards Heath Mynd and the Churchstoke hills; Corndon, Roundton, et al. After a mile or so of open field paths, the BC Ring takes to the network of narrow tracks and lanes that criss-cross the area, heading west at first before swinging southwards past the scruffy farm of Shepherdswhim to join the Kerry Ridgeway at Bishop’s Moat.

The Kerry Ridgeway is a curious track. Running between Bishop’s Castle in the east and Newtown in the west, it was a major thoroughfare in its day. Its origins are uncertain at best, but it is believed to date from the Iron Age some 2,000 to 2,500 years ago. Not that you could tell that by looking at it nowadays, as today this section is a metalled lane frequented by walkers, cyclists and the occasional car. Still, it provided us with a good two miles worth of easy walking as we continued our westerly trend.

In relation to the Kerry Ridgeway, the 8th century Offa’s Dyke is something of a Johnny-come-lately. Again there are uncertainties regarding its history and purpose, but conventional wisdom has it that it was built during Offa’s reign to keep the marauding Welsh at bay define the western borders of the Kingdom of Mercia.

Whatever the actual reasons, it remains an impressive structure. Between the Kerry Ridgeway and Knighton it is possible to walk right beside (and even on) some of the most complete sections of the Dyke. Mindful of potential invaders, we scanned the horizon to the west as we sat to enjoy our sandwiches. Cunningly, today’s raiders-to-be seem to have disguised themselves as harmless-looking sheep.

This section of the Offa’s Dyke Path runs through some superb countryside and is one of the most scenic of the whole trail. It is also considered to be one of the toughest – and with good reason. Often referred to as the Switchback section, a series of steep, relentless undulations accumulates hundreds of metres of energy-sapping ascent and descent. Here, a clear section of dyke can be seen ascending the opposite hillside: the path runs to the right hand side of the ditch and is every bit as steep as it looks.

A knee-jarring descent brought us to Churchtown, a tiny hamlet with a large church, which we popped in for a quick look round.

Beyond Churchtown, we joined path number four: the Shropshire Way. This was to be our companion for much of the return leg: through Churchtown Wood and Knuck Wood, above Mainstone and along to cross the road at Reilthtop. The early sun and clear skies had gradually faded to overcast, but it made for pleasant walking through archetypal, rolling British farmland.

Now we could see Bishop’s Castle in the valley below, with the bulky ridge of the Long Mynd beyond. Skirting Henley Wood, we passed through Middle Woodbatch Farm and joined the quiet lane for a gentle trundle back to town.

Along the lane we passed a couple of groups of Sunday strollers: incredibly, on such a lovely autumn Sunday, from leaving BC early this morning to nearly being back again – around 11 miles – we saw no other walkers at all.

Edgton, Kempton & Hopesay – approx 8.00 miles

Saturday August 18th 2012

Edgton – Hazel Knap – Short Wood – Kempton – Shropshire Way (E) – Nichol’s Barn – Hopesay – Hopesay Hill – Terra Incognita – Shropshire Way (N) – Basford Bank – Edgton

It was a grey, overcast morning as we rolled into Edgton, a tiny village situated beneath the southern end of the Long Mynd, hidden at the centre of a web of narrow lanes. Flecks of rain dotted the car windscreen we searched for a parking space – luckily the Village Hall car park came to our rescue.

A few minutes later we were rising gently across the fields towards Short Wood, the views opening up to the northwest.

Soon we were skirting the southern edge of the wood on a path clear at first, but increasingly overgrown and indistinct. Fortunately the handrail of the trees made for easy navigation, particularly where the way markers performed a disappearing act.

Having crossed the ridge, the views were now open to the south and west where the distinct camel-hump of Burrow Hill dominated the foreground.

An overgrown, nettle-strewn copse proved tricky to negotiate until a rickety stile deposited us on to a clear track of limited headroom.

A little further on, the path cut into the trees. It was a warm, humid morning – especially under the trees – the kind of conditions that gave the thick undergrowth a distinctly jungle-y feel. Our route cut a feint line through head-high brambles and bracken, still soggy from recent rain.

Before long we reached a clearer track through the woods, and exited into the open once more. A handy tree-stump provided the opportunity for a snack break before we made our way down into Kempton, a tiny village straddling the B4385.

Here we picked up the Shropshire Way, heading eastwards. This route was now to be our companion almost all the way back. A clear, metalled track rose steadily out of the village – making for easier going and route finding – whilst behind us the views opened up once more.

At the brow of the hill, we took to the fields again. As we had found in Short Wood, this year’s warm, wet summer had encouraged hefty plant growth: both weeds and crops – seemingly equally rampant – lay collapsed in a soggy tangle across the path.

To our right, Burrow Hill rose steeply to its crowning hill fort, whilst ahead the more obvious tops of the Stretton hills were coming into view.

A steady descent brought us into the third village of the day – Hopesay. Quite by coincidence we passed a teashop. Should we go in? Well, it would have been rude not to, wouldn’t it?

Two cream teas later, we were climbing out of the valley on a steep path that cut a clear swathe through the bracken up on to Hopesay Common. The view behind us – back over the village towards Burrow Hill - was worth the climb alone.

For the next mile or so, we were walking into the unknown. “Here be dragons,” proclaimed maps of old in the face of uncharted territory. There may well be dragons hereabouts – after all, we were close to the Welsh border – but there were none in evidence today: the Shropshire Way is well signed and clear on the ground and the turn northwards very apparent. We followed the handrail of a wire fence rising gently on a grassy path with fantastic views all round.

As we neared the road we passed a stile marked with the legend “The Moving Finger Writes” – a quote from one verse of Edward Fitzgerald’s translation of The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khyyam, and the origin of the title of Agatha Christie’s novel featuring Miss Marple.

The verse in full is:

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

Put simply: whatever you do in life is your own responsibility, and you can’t go back and change anything you later regret – so choose wisely! Quite what the connection is between the quote and the area (if any) I’m not sure, but it’s an interesting way of individualising a stile!

The final section of our route followed quiet lanes, still mostly keeping to the Shropshire Way. Since Hopesay the cloud had gradually been clearing. Now bright sunshine accompanied us as we trundled back into Edgton.

All in all, it had been a good walk: a little overgrown in places (especially Short Wood, where the sodden, head-high vegetation and muggy atmosphere made for an uncomfortable passage) but in the main offering varied going and some fabulous views given the relatively small stature of the hills we traversed (in particular those to all quarters from Hopesay Common).

We’d definitely do this circuit again, although we both reckon it might be at it’s best on a frosty, winter’s day – crisp underfoot, and with a light dusting of snow on the higher tops.

So, having writ, I’ll move on – without regrets!

The Long Mynd & Golden Valley From Bridges – approx 9.25 miles

Sunday 13th November 2011

The Long Mynd & Golden Valley From Bridges – approx 9.25 miles

Map:

Ordnance Survey Explorer OL217 – The Long Mynd & Wenlock Edge

Route Summary:

Bridges – Coates Farm – Medlicott – Medlicott Cottage – Pole Bank – Shooting Box – Shropshire Way – Ford – The Port Way – Betchcott Hill – Golden Valley – Lower Darnford – Ratlinghope – Bridges

Services:

Bridges: Pub, Accommodation

Weather:

Fine and sunny, warm but hazy and a cool breeze on the tops.

Route:

After yesterday’s Bah! Humbuggery, today was the day when we were to get our proper reward for running the Christmas shopping gauntlet – a super walk in great countryside with a bit of peace and quiet thrown in for good measure.

The forecast was good and we had decided we wanted to explore the Long Mynd again, but this time from the quieter western side. We left the car at Bridges, following the lane southwards towards Coates Farm and slowly climbing the valley side. Before long we could see back over the village.

From here, we could have taken the Shropshire Way over Adstone Hill – something we might do next time we do this circuit – but today we opted for the simpler route and kept following the lane, which is, in itself, a pleasant walk because the countryside is so fantastic.

Although it seems churlish to say so – it is November after all – the only drawback was that we were walking southwards, and the bright sun washed out the distant views to the Kerry Ridgeway beyond. From Medlicott, a hamlet consisting of barely more than a farm and a house or two, the route began to steepen as we made a more direct assault on the hillside.

 

 
Beyond Medlicott Cottage the track became rougher but the gradient relented a little and the summit ridge was within striking distance.
 

 

We were now getting more expansive views, but conditions were hazy especially to the south and west – Corndon Hill was barely more than an outline and even the nearby Stiperstones were all shape and no detail.

 

Last time we had walked this way, over this year’s Easter weekend, we did so in the opposite direction – nearing the end of day two of a 3-day route (described here). It’s surprising how different it felt this time – approaching from a different direction, at a different time of day and in a different season – although on both occasions it was unusually warm and sunny for the time of year.

On reaching the main ridge we took a slight detour to Pole Bank, the high point of the Long Mynd. We stopped for a coffee break and something to eat, watching as a steady stream of walkers and cyclists passed us by. I mentioned earlier about the west side being the quiet side of the Long Mynd (and will do so again later!) but it really is true, access and infrastructure from the Stretton side being so much more comprehensive.

But despite the relative crowds, a walk along the top is worth it because the views are superb. Even though it was hazy, the sight of rank upon rank of Housman’s “blue remembered hills” is more than enough to draw a wistful gaze.

Leaving Pole Bank, we walked north along the ridge picking up the line of an ancient prehistoric route, the Port Way. Like others in the area, it is referred to as a ridgeway and keeps to the high ground – in Neolithic times, when the surrounding countryside was more heavily wooded, these high trade routes were safer and avoided multiple river crossings. Later, many became used as drove roads.

Beyond the turn for Carding Mill Valley, things began to quieten down again. We continued to follow the Port Way, which now forms part of the well-marked Shropshire Way, turning northwest towards Betchcott Hill and suddenly leaving the moor for more agricultural land. Once again, we were on our own.

A low bank made the ideal place for another stop, so we did – eating the rest of our lunch and lingering over our coffee. In the distance we could see the northernmost tail of the Stretton Hills and the flat plain beyond. In better light, we may have been able to see the high ground of the Peak District.

Closer at hand was the valley of Darnford Brook, our next objective, surrounded by some of Shropshire’s most iconic hills.

Moving on again, we passed over the top of Betchcott Hill then – keeping to the Shropshire Way – left the Port Way, and dropped down, steeply at first, into Golden Valley.



By now, early afternoon, the sun was surprisingly warm, and the drop into the shelter of the valley had us rapidly shedding layers. In the glorious autumn light the valley looked more like the lower sections of a Pennine clough than of the Marches.

The path followed Darnford Brook, keeping a line a little way up the valley side. The going was easy, and gradually we descended to the wooded riverbank.

Before long, we had reached the lane and wandered the final few yards, past the Youth Hostel, back into Bridges. I said I’d do this, so here goes: this really is the quiet side of the Mynd. Between leaving the moorland and reaching Bridges we didn’t see a soul. But don’t go telling anyone about it, will you? Otherwise I might just have to kill you.

Now for the final part of our reward: the pub in Bridges has had a chequered recent history. At one time it was a well-loved venue, then it became subject to intermittent opening hours and an unusual concept of customer service that resulted in it closing down two or three years back. The good news is it is now open again, restored to it’s former glory; the better news is that it has been done by the Three Tuns Brewery and serves their superb range of beers.

To be able to sit outside after a wonderful walk in the sunshine, supping a fine pint of Ale in November – rewards don’t get much better than that! I might even be able to face up to more Christmas sho …….

Oh, no;  hang on a sec. Let’s not get carried away, eh?