Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Fox’s Pulpit & Crook Of Lune Bridge From Sedbergh – approx 10.00 miles

Sunday 2nd October 2011

Fox’s Pulpit & Crook Of Lune Bridge From Sedbergh – approx 10.00 miles

Map:

Ordnance Survey Explorer OL19 – Howgill Fells & Upper Eden Valley

Route Summary:

Sedbergh – Howgill Lane – New House – Bramaskew – Dales Way (N) – Hole House – Crook Of Lune Bridge – Davy Bank – Hilltop Heights – Fox’s Pulpit – New Field – Lincoln’s Inn Bridge – St Gregory Church – Underwinder – Howgill Lane - Sedbergh

Services:

Sedbergh: Pubs, Shops, Cafés, Accommodation, Transport

Weather:

Overcast all day, with drizzle and rain.

Route:

IT’S OFFICIAL! Yesterday was the hottest October day on record, with temperatures reaching as high as 29.9°C down in the South East! So here in the North West, with a wonderful forecast promised for today for the whole country, we pulled back the curtains this morning to reveal blazing sunshi ……

Errr ……. No, actually. Beyond the curtains we were met with a murky morning, thick with mist and drizzle sweeping slowly across the dale. Yesterday may well have felt like high summer, but today was definitely October. Oh well – onwards and upwards, as they say.

Due to an amazingly poor piece of planning on my part – of which the less said, the better – we needed to partake of a little emergency clothes shopping. So, breakfast eaten, we drove over to Kendal thinking we could hit the shops while the weather cleared.

The first part of the plan worked a treat, and a couple of hours later we were parked up in Sedbergh, new clothes in the boot, and boots on ready to go. The second part of the plan was less successful, though – despite what we were promised, it was still raining. Weather forecasting, eh? Little more than divination and soothsaying but with lower accuracy!

Still, having travelled so far for the weekend, we were not going to be put off by a bit of rain. Instead we opted for familiar paths – with no mapwork required making for easier navigation in the wet – and with waterproofs donned we set off along Howgill Lane, skirting the lower flanks of Winder to our right.


After about a mile and a half, we left the lane for the field path towards Bramaskew where we joined the Dales Way. Turning northwards, we passed through Hole House and onwards to meet the riverside. There the rain relented slightly so we took the opportunity to stop for lunch, huddling under a tree to eat our soup.


Moving on, we traced the riverbank for a further mile or so to reach Crook Of Lune Bridge. Here, road, river and rail converge at this pinch point between the hills, with Lowgill Viaduct and the M6 mere yards away.



But still the fells dominate, and we began our climb out of the valley towards the narrow lane that runs the length of Firbank, pausing periodically to catch our breath and to evade a sizeable bull parked slap-bang across the path and giving us the evil eye.


By the time we reached the lane the rain had largely relented. Only the merest hint of drizzle hung in the air as we trundled past Fox’s Pulpit, although low cloud remained to stifle the views. Despite everything, the day remained quite warm – even up on the fell – providing a test of breathability for our waterproofs. Eventually we ditched them in favour of shirtsleeves, this being the better way of staying dry.


From the tiny group of houses marked as New Field on the map, we took the field path towards Bridge End that descends steeply South East through Hawkrigg Wood and crosses a minor road before reaching the main A684. The road is busy, and care is required especially when crossing Lincoln’s Inn Bridge. Soon, though, the tiny church of St. Gregory in Lunedale is reached – notable for it’s unusual stained glass.


Our next objective was Underwinder – another small agglomeration of properties, this time clustered around a cobbled courtyard. Here the path actually passes directly through one of the gardens, slightly odd but all perfectly legal. By now the rain had returned in earnest, and the final steady pull up to Howgill Lane once again tested jacket breathability to the full. Then all that remained was the gentle walk along the lane into Sedbergh.

We have done this walk – or variations on it – many times before, and always find it a good standby. The mix of farmland, riverside and fell provides plenty of variety, and, even on a grotty day, the views along the Lune Valley and over to the Howgills are sure to be inspiring. And it fits nicely into a good half day – just in case you need to do a bit of emergency shopping, too!

Monday, 17 October 2011

A Circuit Of Barbon Low Fell – approx 8.00 miles

Saturday 1st October 2011

A Circuit Of Barbon Low Fell – approx 8.00 miles

Map:

Ordnance Survey Explorer OL2 – Yorkshire Dales Southern & Western Areas

Route Summary:

Barbon – Pencil Brow – Barbondale – Blindbeck Bridge – Bullpot Farm – Gale Garth – Brownthwaite Pike – Fell Road – Fellfoot Road – Langthwaite – Fell Garth – Whelprigg – Low Bank House - Barbon

Services:

Barbon: Pub, Shop, Accommodation

Weather:

Sunny and warm at first, hot and hazy later.

Route:

We got out of the car, stretching expansively to rid ourselves of the kinks and cricks accumulated during the long drive north. It was still quite early, but here we were – “up north” – on a warm, sunny morning with a nice little walk to look forward to and all day to do it in.

For those who don’t know it, Barbon is a small, neat village situated in the Lune Valley, slightly to the west of the Yorkshire Dales National Park boundary. But although technically outside the National Park, there is no mistaking the quality of the surrounding hills – to the north sits the massive bulk of Middleton Fell with the Howgills beyond, while barely a half dozen miles east lies Whernside, highest of all the summits in the Yorkshire Dales – and Barbondale cuts a dramatic NE/SW slash through the thick of them.


Crossing the cattle grid on the track out of the village, it felt good to be back in this neck of the woods. It’d been far too long since our last visit – some four months, if memory serves me correctly – something that we were keen to rectify. Under normal circumstances we wouldn’t head up here for just a weekend; the time it takes and the cost of fuel being just two of the reasons why not. But we really needed to do this – to walk these beautiful hills again and to catch up with friends – and the promise of a decent forecast had tipped the balance in our favour. Naughty weather!


After a short stretch through parkland, we struck off east on a clear path through the woods with the rushing sound of Barbon Beck down to our right. Despite the recent warm, dry weather here, under the trees, there were still some wet patches to be negotiated.


Exiting the woods, we found ourselves on a track that contoured the lower slopes of steep-sided Middleton Fell. We made our way towards the footbridge that crosses the beck near Blindbeck Bridge before doubling back on ourselves along the road.


After a short distance we picked up a bridle path heading southwards towards Hoggs Hill that followed the stream dividing Barbon Low Fell from Barbon High Fell. The climb was not steep, but the path rose quickly out of the valley and views began to open up all round. Soon the tops of the surrounding fells came within our sight.


Bullpot Farm inhabits a surprisingly remote spot, ringed as it is by high tops – Barbon High Fell, Casterton Fell, Leck Fell, Gragareth, Great Coum and Crag Hill. We gazed longingly at them before turning away – we must save those for another day.


Today our route followed the road in a southwesterly direction, bringing us to a gateway on the right near Gale Garth that opened on to Access Land. A clear track wound along the side of the hill, rising gently to reach a second gate. We have been here in winter when the bottom of this gate is frozen solid into sheet ice – not a worry today.

Beyond this we left the track in favour of a slightly higher route aiming for the minor summit of Brownthwaite Pike, a small protuberance with an elaborate summit cairn and an airy position overlooking the Lune Valley, where we stopped for lunch.


By now, the temperature was soaring. Fortunately a strong, cooling breeze made it more bearable, but we were careful to slap on hats and sunscreen as these were perfect conditions for unexpected sunburn – and this in October! With a fine view over the valley to Kirby Lonsdale and beyond, it was a perfect place for a rest.

Moving on, we rejoined the main track and followed an arrow-straight path to reach Fell Road where we turned downhill. Our way back was a lower level route across the fields. From Fellfoot Road – a rough track between drystone walls – we entered a network of field paths that linked a succession of houses and farmsteads. Near one of these we were accosted by a friendly local.


Continuing in a generally northerly direction, we passed through parkland belonging to the grand house at Whelprigg and soon saw Barbon ahead of us. Before long we were back in the village, looking forward to a well-earned cup of tea and a piece of cake.


At around 8 miles, this walk is not much more than a good half-day in terms of distance. But in terms of variety and views it has a lot to offer – narrow dale, wild fell, gentle valley and more – and provides a satisfying snapshot of the best this area has to offer.



Thursday, 6 October 2011

Leki Makalu Corklite Speedlock £65 - 24/8/11

I must have looked a bit of a sight this summer, hacking up and down the mountains with a pair of ancient, mismatched Brasher hiking poles, both scratched to ribbons and with paint flaking off, one with a broken adjustable strap, and one with a cord loop and no basket. And both as heavy as a length of scaffolding – these babies were definitely pre- the lightweight revolution!

But, and this is the crucial point, they proved very useful on some long and very hot ascents and descents, so much so that I decided to equip myself with a lightweight, modern pair.


Until recently I was much more likely to use a single pole rather than two, which rather goes against the received wisdom, and that primarily when out hillwalking or carrying a heavier pack, say on a multi-day walk. I found it much easier to handle just the one when also faced with consulting the map, negotiating stiles, taking photographs, etc.

But mountain walking is a different kettle of fish altogether - and even more so if undertaking a trek where moving on from day to day is compulsory. Picking up a knee injury might spoil the fun and could be seriously inconvenient!

The benefits of using a pair of poles for steep inclines or with a heavy pack are now well understood – pressure on the crucial joints is reduced and additional propulsion gained from using the arms as well, with the aim of reducing wear and tear and/or injury to those all-important hips, knees and ankles, and making better use of the energy expended.

Of course poles are not for everyone. Many walkers are happy to do without, or find them too cumbersome and fiddly in relation to the benefit gained – I felt that way myself for many years – but, now I’m in my mid- (to late!) forties, those little niggles are that bit more frequent and take that bit longer to get over. I love my walking and plan to keep it up for as long as I can, and I’d be annoyed with myself if I were reduced to an arthritic shamble simply because I didn’t take precautions when I could.

Based on experience gleaned when using the old poles, there were a few basic features I knew I wanted in a new pair; compact enough in size to fit into my luggage if trekking abroad, reasonably light in weight and with cork handles – better, I feel, than the polyurethane, plastic, foam or rubberised options, especially in very hot conditions. They also had to be strong enough to cope, with a solid, simple-to-use, effective locking mechanism.

An Internet search helped dig up reviews, retailers and manufacturers, to help narrow down the options. Having heard tales of cheaper poles bending under even moderate stress or collapsing at inopportune moments, I decided to rule out the budget brands and aim for recognised specialist maker.

As a result, I came across the latest version of the Makalu Corklite, boasting a fair price and a good number of the desirable features I was looking for:

· Ergonomically shaped, ventilated handles with cork finish

· Adjustable, padded neoprene strap

· Aluminium pole

· Speedlock adjustment

· Lightweight (542g per pair)

· Packs small (67.5cm collapsed length inc protective rubber bung)

Speedlock is Leki’s version of a flick-lock locking system, deemed to be a much more reliable mechanism than the twist locking used on some other models and which are far less prone to collapsing at awkward moments, such as river crossings. Water, ice, snow, grit and dust can all act as a lubricant on the twist lock mechanism rendering it far less effective, and if the internal expanders happen to break they can’t be tightened at all.

The flick-lock system used here feels very solid and secure, even when subjected to the bulk of my thirteen-and-a-half stone frame, and no slippage at all has been encountered so far. The mechanism is simplicity itself – just move the pole to the right length and flick the lever closed, something that would still be easy even when wearing thick gloves. I’m not sure it is any quicker, but it is simpler and more solid.

The handles are ergonomically shaped, quite slim and comfortable to use even in very hot conditions, and are made from a moulded and ventilated plastic grip covered with a cork finish. This open handle also helps keep the weight down – at 542g per pair, there are lighter options (eg: carbon fibre poles) but these are fine; a lot lighter than most and still at a reasonable price.

For a three-section pole a collapsed length of 67.5cm is good, too. At this, I have no problem packing it into my holiday luggage or 45lt rucksack when travelling, and the rubber bung (optional extra) prevents it from piercing the fabric if the bags are roughly handled. The aluminium tubing used has a good ratio of strength to weight and appears able to take the knocks.

There is no antishock system in this model. Some like it, and some don’t – I don’t find it of much benefit myself – but it does add to the weight and it’s something I can manage without.

I’ve given these a good preliminary testing during a week’s walking in Austria, where they have been subjected to heat, rain, snow, cold, dust, grit, rocky ascents, steep descents and packed bus rides. They have been bashed against rocks when crossing a boulder field, coped with being continually caught along loose, stony paths and survived being trapped between large rocks, and, so far, they have passed with flying colours.

The handles and straps are very comfortable, especially in really hot weather when the cork finish and the venting really help. They are easy to adjust for length, pack away small and are light enough to be carried strapped to your rucksack when not in use.

Yes, you can get shorter and lighter; yes, you can perhaps get more robust; and yes, you can definitely get more technical. But probably not at a similar price.

Comfort: 8/10
Performance: 8/10
Value: 8/10
Overall: 24/30

Friday, 30 September 2011

Craghoppers Ridge II Trousers £50 - 25/12/10

I was very interested when I first heard about the Ridge II trousers from Craghoppers as they seemed to be the answer to a question I had been pondering for some while: was it possible to buy waterproof walking trousers? Not waterproof overtrousers – they are ten-a-penny (if only!) – but proper walking trousers made from waterproof materials that are intended for all day use. Such was the claim made for the Ridge II.


Although I do use waterproof overtrousers on occasion, I’m really no fan of them at all, finding them hot, sweaty and very awkward to get on and off easily and cleanly over muddy walking boots, especially during a deluge. So much so, I’d often rather just get wet.

And, as a side issue, surely part of the purpose of waterproof overtrousers is to protect your under trousers from getting dirty as well as from getting wet, which is not easy to achieve when wrestling them on over mucky boots and dragging the mud with them.

But I digress.

The merits of what is actually meant by manufacturers when they use the term “waterproof” could be debated all day, and would probably elicit a different definition depending on whether you asked the manufacturer or the user of the product.

In the case of users this is normally assumed to mean a garment that will keep even quite heavy rain at bay for a prolonged period. But in the case of manufacturers it has a more technical definition and one that manages to subdivide the meaning into “waterproof”, “very waterproof” and “highly waterproof”. Right.

The recent spate of softshell trousers appearing on the market have, by and large, professed only to water resistance as opposed to being fully waterproof – a small but significant difference. In the case of softshell products, water repellence is usually attained by the application of a DWR (Durable Water Repellent) treatment to the fabric that claims to be able to shed light rain or snow. I’m sure they are all capable of this, but I was looking for something to do a slightly different job.

Again, I digress.

The Ridge II are made from a tough, canvass-like polyamide fabric with an AquaDry membrane, and come with the following spec: 
  • 2 waterproof zipped front pockets.
  • A part-elasticated, adjustable waistband with velcro tabs.
  • Breathable fabric.
  • Taped seams.
  • Reinforced heel.
  • Lifetime guarantee.
In use, they proved pretty comfortable. Weighing in at 458g for a size L they are not the lightest of garments, but they do have a bombproof feel about them and should be able to cope with anything that can be thrown at them.

Once on, they are certainly much more comfortable than a traditional trouser-and-overtrouser combination, feeling much less sweaty than overtrousers and with no untidy bunching of layers. A taffeta-style lining helps in this regard, increasing their next-to-skin comfort and making them pleasant enough to wear when its not raining - which is a real boon. Breathability, if nowhere near as good as softshell pants, is at least reasonable in comparison with traditional overtrousers, and they seem much quieter and rustle-free than any overtrousers I have come across before.

The fit is quite roomy so they can easily be teamed with thermal leggings in really cold conditions, but the waistband (which is part-elasticated and with velcro tabs) is sufficiently adjustable to get the right fit.

I’ve worn them a few times now, most notably during a very wet weekend in the Peak District in June where, in tough conditions, they performed admirably. Keeping me dry and not becoming too sweaty during 5 hours or more of hard walking in warm rain each day was a stiff challenge, and in this respect the Ridge II certainly lived up to their waterproof, breathable billing. I only threw them in as an afterthought after a final check of the forecast – and I’m very glad I did!

Because of the weight and nature of the product they are probably best suited to use during autumn, winter and spring, although, as mentioned, a summer outing is not out of the question As such, I have not used them a lot lately, but, based on the limited number of occasions I’ve worn them so far, they seem an excellent piece of kit and great value for money.

Early indications are that they certainly do what I had hoped of them, and the coming months may provide ample opportunities for further testing.

Comfort: 7/10
Performance: 9/10
Value: 8/10
Overall: 24/30

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Autumn Fair

Around this time last year, I wrote a short piece about how much I loved autumn. I seem to remember that the words came quite easily to me because it’s a time of year that I always find inspiring and full of promise. And not just for walking – it’s my favourite time of year for food, too. Who can resist a great walk followed by a great meal?

Now I’m getting excited about the prospects for this year, and once again I find myself poring over maps, planning and plotting our forthcoming little adventures. There’s so much we want to do it seems there are hardly enough weekends ahead to fit everything in.

As usual, the summer has been pretty busy – sometimes with holidays and walking, sometimes with other commitments; some of them featuring family and friends, and many featuring babies.

At 47 years old I reckon I should be in a baby-free zone by now – too old for children, too young for grandchildren – but there it is. Having successfully avoided any of my own, I now find myself surrounded by other peoples’ and, whilst I understand the unbounded joy they feel over their new arrivals, I can’t say as I really share it.

Normally, I find I’m in agreement with W.C.Fields (“I like children, but I couldn’t eat a whole one.”) but having “done my bit” and cuddled and cooed over the wee mites – sometimes more than one in the same weekend – I now find my reputation somewhat sullied. My photo, all over Fizzogbook, complete with babes-in-arms. Harummph!

Anyhow, back to the main point. All these distractions have kept us away from the walking, which is my main grumble. To get things going again we went for a short walk last weekend, just round some local paths and lanes. Although summer has barely passed – something of a curate’s egg, I grant you – the first signs of autumn were already apparent; the fields recently ploughed and the trees and hedgerows laden with fruit and berries. We took the opportunity to stock up on nature’s harvest of blackberries, apples and pears.

In my opinion, there are few finer places than the UK in autumn. Now, ahead of us, are two of the best walking months of the year, crammed with potential for clear, sunny days and misty mornings, bracketed by the Harvest moon and Bonfire Night, with a riot of colour waiting to show. I can’t wait!

In contrast to the unpredictable nature of this year’s summer weather, autumn can often be relied upon for reasonable spells of good walking conditions. And, so that we don’t miss any precious opportunities, we have plenty of possible trips at the planning stage. The Yorkshire Dales, the Shropshire Hills and the Peak District all feature in those plans, plus other destinations yet to be decided. One thing is for sure; we won’t miss out for lack of inspiration!

So here’s to another amazing autumn, and all the great walking to be had. How will it turn out? Who knows, but whatever does happen, it’ll be fun, and you’ll get to hear about it here first.

So watch this space.

Friday, 16 September 2011

Mayrhofen & The Ziller Valley 27th August – 3rd September 2011

A week of day walks based in the small Austrian town of Mayrhofen in the Zillertal, a large valley running north-south to the east of Innsbruck. This area is now famed for the extensive winter skiing opportunities it offers, developed from the 1950’s onwards, making tourism its dominant economic factor.

For the walker, this means almost unlimited opportunity. Eleven of the area’s main lifts run during the summer months to whisk you into the mountains, all of which are connected by a network of buses and trains and covered, in the main, by a single travel ticket, making it easy to get around.

By booking late in the season we managed to get a good deal on a package including flights, transfers, accommodation and meals, making the whole excursion cost little more than a week in the UK would have done, so great value as well. Austria is often assumed to be an expensive holiday destination. Well, it doesn’t have to be, and even in a tourist trap like Mayrhofen prices are roughly in line with those in the UK on the holiday basics such as lunches, drinks, entry fees and transport.

We had promised ourselves we would walk each day, but would mix walking with relaxing, attempting more modest day walks rather than full-on mountain outings. Some of our previous trips earlier in the year had been of the more committing and strenuous variety, so for this week we decided that we would build in some time to take it easy too.

Totals = 58.00 miles / 3180m ascent / 5880m descent

Map:

Freytag & Berndt – WK5152 Zillertaler Alpen (etc) 1:35,000

Saturday 27th August 2011

Day 1: Arrival

I sat on the bus, weighing up our situation with mixed feelings. On the one hand, we were at the start of an exciting new holiday with plenty of mountain fun to look forward to over the next week. On the other hand, the flight had been over an hour late, it was pouring with rain, and one of our co-passengers was in the process of being noisily ill every few minutes – something that was to entertain us for the entire 3-hour journey. As the song says: “Things Can Only Get Better”.

Which they did: as we pulled into Mayrhofen, the skies were beginning to clear a little and the rain finally stopped. In between the low, drifting clouds we could even see glimpses of what looked like new snow on the tops of the hills – and it was still five days shy of September.


We were dropped off at our accommodation, a no-nonsense but neat and tidy chalet-style place in the centre of town, rather like a cross between a simple hotel and an upmarket hostel. Our room came complete with an en-suite shower room and a balcony overlooking the main thoroughfare, a couple of concessions to comfort.


After checking in, we had a quick walk round to orientate ourselves, locating the nearby lifts and stocking up on a few supplies. Dinner, a communal affair, was served at 7.00pm sharp, after which we had an early night since we had been up since 3.45am.

Sunday 28th August 2011

Day 2: Long Way Down - Ahornbahn to the Edelhütte & Mayrhofen

11.25 miles / 270m Ascent / 1620m Descent

On the promise of a decent forecast, we woke early. But outside, low cloud obscured even the most moderate tops so we lingered over breakfast and packing our rucksacks, eventually getting underway at 9.15am.

Our plan was to ride the Ahornbahn gondola to the top and walk from there, so we bought our weekly travel pass and jumped on board. Moments later, we rose through the mist and into glorious sunshine! The forecast was right after all.


Stepping out at 1980m, we could see that yesterday’s rain had fallen as snow at higher levels, so the tops had a white dusting showing bright against the clear blue skies. It was also quite hot, so we adjusted our layers, applied sunscreen and set off.


We picked up the contour path towards the Edelhütte, a mountain hut just over an hour’s walk away. Despite the sprinkling of now-melting snow, the going was fairly easy on the relatively flat path and the 250m climb to the hut passed almost unnoticed, the greatest difficulty presented when negotiating a herd of goats that were blocking the path.


From the Edelhütte a number of options are possible. One would be to climb to the 2973m summit of the Ahornspitze, but lack of time and resolve meant we chose an easier alternative, opting instead for a leisurely lunch at the hut. Our favourite Austrian calorie overload – Kaiserschmarrn – was on the menu. Resistance was futile.


By now it was warming up nicely. Large gobbets of snow were sloughing off the hut roof on to the terrace – great fun to watch but not to get caught by. As we ate we devised a new plan for the afternoon, to walk back to the top station of the Ahornbahn and then make the long descent back down to Mayrhofen.

As we set off again we found were moving a little against the flow of traffic. The skies had now completely cleared and many people were looking to take advantage of the good weather. Soon enough, though, we were back at the gondola station looking out for our route down.


Today’s walk down was typical of such routes – a long, zigzagging descent following forestry tracks and woodland paths to Mayrhofen over a vertical mile below us, generally fairly steep and seemingly going on forever. Still we took it steadily, and what the path lacked in charm, the scenery more than made up for in attraction.


Part way down we passed the Wiesenhof, a beautifully situated mountain restaurant overlooking Mayrhofen and the valley. Carrying on through shady woodland, a minor knee-niggle encouraged us to keep a gentle pace as we didn’t want to run the risk of spoiling the rest of the week.

Before long, the tops of the houses began to show just a few metres below us, and we trundled into town past the gondola bottom station – a nice circuit. After a quick bit of shopping, we went back to our hotel in time for a shower before a dinner. Tonight it was Moussaka, Greek Salad and Pear tart with Ice Cream, after which we strolled up and down the main street before retiring for the evening.

Monday 29th August 2011

Day 3: Bipolar Exploration - Penken to the Wanglspitze

7.25 miles / 580m Ascent / 580m Descent

We woke to find the good weather continuing, so breakfasted promptly and took the first gondola up the Penkenbahn, the other lift in Mayrhofen. This two-stage lift rises 1300m up the hills to the west of town, accessing a network of paths above the Ziller and Tuxer Valleys.

It was already nicely warm as we set off along the level-ish track towards the Penkenjoch, again just shy of the 2000m mark. Our plan was to take a fairly easy ridge walk west of the Penkenjoch then make the 300m ascent to the summit of the Wanglspitze at 2420m, all at a gentle pace, then return to the Penken area for lunch before going back down. As today was the hotel’s day off from catering, we had free reign on choosing when and where to eat, so we opted for a more sizeable lunch at a mountain restaurant with a cracking view, saving our picnic for the evening.


From the top of the Penkenbahn we followed an undulating track along the ridge, past the knobbly summit of Knorren, and on to the Penkenjoch, an agglomeration of mountain cafes and restaurants about 30 minutes away at the top of the Finkenberg gondola. Swinging to the west, our route linked briefly with a section of the Adlerweg – the Eagle’s Way – a mostly high-level long distance route linking many parts of the Tyrol.


This holiday seemed like a good opportunity to try out some new pieces of kit. As a result, Missy G had started to refer to me as Bipolar – not because I’d become afflicted by that terrible illness of debilitating mood-swings but because I had been toting a new pair of Leki Corklites. Our last trip abroad had featured some fairly tough and committed trekking: as a precaution, I had taken two old, battered, mismatched and heavy Brasher poles which in the end proved quite useful. So much so that I decided on a new, lightweight pair for my birthday, which were this week getting their first proper airing (an initial review will appear in the “Gear” section forthwith).


It’s a steady pull from the Wanglalm to the summit. In itself, the Wanglspitze is an unprepossessing top, not especially fine and surrounded by some less-than-beautiful ski architecture. At 2420m, it is a mere pimple by local standards but it proved to be a popular destination for a bright morning. As we sat enjoying the views across the Tuxertal to the Hintertux glacier beyond, we could see a steady procession of future summiteers toiling up the steep path beneath us.


We stayed for 20 minutes or so, then headed back down. At one point we had to shoo a cow away from the path, which was somewhat easier said than done; otherwise it was an uneventful return to the wide ridge-top track. Missy G’s knee was still grumbling a little, so we took things nice and slowly.


Back at the Penkenjoch we took our time over lunch at Chrisa’s Skialm – delicious Gulaschsuppe and a cold Radler – then spent a little time looking around. On the way back to the gondola we detoured for a quick lap around a small man-made lake boasting good views over to the Ahornspitze and the Stillup Reservoir where thousands of tadpoles could be seen wriggling in the warm, clear water.


By 3.30pm we were riding the gondola down to Mayrhofen, reaching our hotel in time for afternoon tea and cake. We spent a lazy evening reading and relaxing, interrupted only by a quick walk around town to pick up a few supplies.

Tuesday 30th August 2011

Day 4: The Tightest Man In Austria – Schlegeis to the Pfitscherjochhaus

9.60 miles / 500m Ascent / 500m Descent

The forecast for the remainder of the week was for rain so, true to form, we woke to find it ……. dry. OK, so the sky was leaden and the cloud-base barely above the rooftops, but we were much encouraged, and after breakfast we made our way to the bus station to catch the 9.15am to the Schlegeis Reservoir – a very popular service that departed with only standing room left.

It’s an interesting journey of about one hour’s duration along the narrow Zembach valley, ducking in and out of tunnels and avalanche shelters along the way. A number of the valleys to the south of Mayrhofen bear the scars of hydroelectricity schemes and considerable effort has been made in order to install them. Construction of the dams must have taken quite a time: in some cases roads have been specially built to service the construction program – beyond Breitlahrner is a controlled toll road - with increased access as a result. The same goes for the skiing infrastructure – it may look ugly and is often a blot on the landscape, but it has made access to the higher levels much easier: quid pro quo?


As we disembarked at Schlegeis the rain was holding off – just. We walked for a few minutes by the lakeside to reach a small, trinket-laden kiosk at the mouth of the valley we were due to follow, where toilets were situated priced €1 on a slot mechanism.

Now I don’t know about you, but I think 90p is more than enough to spend on spending a penny wherever in the world you are. Missy G needed to go, though, so I rummaged in my pocket, found the requisite coin and dropped it in the slot. At least, I thought, I could nip in afterwards – take advantage and get a bit better value out of it. You may think that mean of me, but I have a deep-seated Northerner’s aversion to paying more than is necessary or fair. Anything else is profiteering.

Anyway, I was about to take my turn when a man who had been loitering nearby dived in front of me. At first I thought he was just trying to nip in as well and had jumped the queue, but no, he pushed the door shut and proceeded to give me a lecture about how he was the proprietor of the establishment, that he’d had these loos installed and that the €1 was a per person fee, not per group. If I wanted to go it would cost another €1.

I must admit I was a bit gob-smacked by this, so much so that I was at a loss for a suitable rejoinder. The sad bastard was on patrol! Austria, at least where we have been before, generally has a culture of free-to-use toilets in the mountains, even at huts, with the obvious benefit of cleaner surroundings. Needless to say I declined his offer, leaving him in no doubt that I most certainly would not be paying again, and we moved away, chuntering. Ultimately, this sort of attitude backfires – the drinks we bought on the way back were bought elsewhere.


But back to the business of walking: we picked up a clear, gently rising path heading into the valley, and after 20 minutes or so passed the first of a number of waterfalls that cascaded down the valley side, seemingly leaking straight from the low cloud. But somewhere up there snow and ice were melting, even on a day like today.


The valley was steep sided but flat bottomed, with an attractive stream running through it alternately steep and rushing then slow and braided. The path mostly kept close to the stream, occasionally crossing it, and the going was usually easy.


Essentially this walk comprised two longer, flattish stretches and two short, steeper sections, with the 200m climb up to the saddle at the head of the valley being the tougher of the two. After the first rise, the valley opened out slightly into a wide meadow, nestled at the base of a ring of high mountains whose tops were still swaddled in cloud.

After about 2 hours walking, at the top of the second climb, we reached a good track and crossed the border into Italy! The hut we were aiming for – the Pfitscherjochhaus (2276m) – stood perched on a rocky bump overlooking the Pfitschertal about 100m further on. It sits on the route of the Via Alpina and is part of a network of mountain huts in the area linked by high-level routes as well as via the pass. It makes a great objective for day walks as well, and we just happened to be there about lunchtime. Oh, well. Beers and Specknödelsuppe – ham dumplings in a clear broth – followed, and we whiled away a good three quarters of an hour watching the Italian weather trying to improve.


Today’s walk was a there-and-back route, so we retraced our steps to the Schlegeis Reservoir, making one short detour to follow the track down from the Pfitscherjoch, rather than taking the steep path, once again being mindful of sore knees. With two or three buses back to Mayrhofen to choose from there was no rush, so we ambled along in our own time enjoying the slightly improved views.


Back at the reservoir, we gave the “Tightwadhütte” a miss, instead settling on the much less tacky Dominikushütte for our post-walk coffee. Then we, along with many others, had a scramble for places on the bus – full as it left, with standing room only for those joining at subsequent stops. At Ginzling, two of our fellow chalet-ers got on. They’d been on an overnight trip to the Kasselerhütte – out by one route and back by another – but we had to wait till later for the full story.

We were back in time for tea and cake at the hotel, followed by a rest prior to dinner. Tonight we had Red Onion Tart, Pork & Apple Pie and Chocolate Mousse and finished with a final stroll round town before heading back to phone home and read.

Wednesday 31st August 2011

Day 5: Missing The Bus – Penken to Vorderlanersbach

9.40 miles / 360m Ascent / 935m Descent

Once again the forecast rain failed to materialise. Despite the fact that there was some cloud around, it was a fair morning so we decided to catch the Penkenbahn lift, walk along the ridge and down into the Tuxer valley.


We were in good time for the first lift of the day, which proved to be running about 10 minutes late – minutes we could have made use of later. Again, we took the two-stage lift to the top and walked along the track to the Penkenjoch at 2095m, much as we had done two days earlier. We stopped for coffee at the Penkentenne restaurant, relaxing in the sunshine and watching clouds billowing up over the glacier-clad peaks away to the east.


From just west of the summit we picked up a pretty path leading down across open pasture towards the Schrofenalm.


We had planned to have an easy day today, and a well-placed, sunny bench provided the opportunity to rest and read for a while – we had taken our books with us for just such an occasion – whilst taking in the wonderful views to the high mountains at the head of the valley. Luckily we had picked a quiet spot, for the path itself was pretty busy.


Moving on, we skirted the hillside round to the Schrofenalm where a short detour brought us to the tiny Barbarakapelle chapel.


The next stretch of path dropped more steeply through meadows and woodland towards Vorderlanersbach, an attractive village located part way along the Tuxer valley. We lingered for a while in the meadows on the upper edge of the village, a chance for a bite to eat and another read, before making our way through the outskirts of the village to the centre. A sign tempted us with the lure of drinks, cakes and ice creams, and who were we to ignore it? Soon, a couple of very large ice creams were planted on the table in front of us. Mmmmm!


Weighed down by guilt as much as by ice cream, we decided to walk a bit further – along the valley to the next bus stop – prior to heading back. As far as we could work out, we had just enough time to get there before the next bus came. Despite having to put waterproofs on against a sharp shower, we made it in time – only to find ……. no bus stop. With typical Austrian efficiency, bus stops are marked on their maps: we must have found the only one no longer in use.

A quick scout up and down the road showed we weren’t just in the wrong spot or that it’d been moved a bit. As we were looking, the bus swished past: if it was any consolation it was standing room only. So we set off in the rain back towards Vorderlanersbach to try to catch the next bus – which passed us about one minute before we reached the bus stop. Drat! Still it was a chance to dry out a bit before the third bus arrived.

Back in Mayrhofen, we caught another brief shower on the way back to the hotel. But no bother: we dried out over tea and cake – but remembered to “pass” on the cake – honest! Later, dinner was Shepherd’s Pie, salad and Bread & Butter Pudding, then we had our post-prandial stroll before turning in.

Thursday 1st September 2011

Day 6: Nearly, But Not Quite – The Ahornspitze

7.50 miles / 790m Ascent / 790m Descent

Another day with a poor forecast: another morning with a reasonably fair start. We breakfasted briskly and set off to catch the first Ahornbahn gondola at 8.30am, and a few minutes later we were standing at 1980m ready for the off. The snow of earlier in the week had now gone, but we were keeping an eye on the cloud, which seemed to be building.

The Ahornspitze is a mountain in the way that kids draw mountains – tall, pointy and prominently alone. It’s 2973m summit stands high over Mayrhofen around 1000m above the gondola top station. By the standards of the area, it is not especially high – there are reputedly 55 summits over 3000m in the Zillertal region – but it is fairly accessible and, despite a scrambly section near the top, within the compass of moderately strong walkers. For those of you pondering the inevitable mildly smutty jokes about “going to mount a horn” or such-like, sorry – it’s pronounced as Ar-horn.


Our first objective was the Edelhütte, about one hour from the gondola by the same route as before. From there, a path starts to wind steadily back and forth across steeper ground, working it’s way up the western flank of the mountain. So far, although the skies were now overcast, the cloud-base was high and views into the Ziller Valley had been relatively clear. But as we worked our way higher, a dampening drizzle began to fall and the cloud started to drift in.


The path then followed a rising traverse across a boulder field in order to reach the west ridge, the route by which the summit is achieved. On reaching the crest of the ridge at around 2750m, I had hoped to push for the summit. But a combination of strengthening wind, worsening rain and thickening cloud got us thinking twice – the ridge was quite steep and narrow, and a trip or slip could have been …. Interesting.

What sounded like a couple of distant thunderclaps sealed the deal – we were going down. After all, this was meant to be a relaxing holiday, so we adjusted our waterproof layers, had a quick snack to boost our energy, and started back.

The descent was quite easy, and just over an hour later we were holed up in the soggy warmth of the Edelhütte, along with many others whose mountain day had been truncated by the rain. Wedged into a cozy corner, doing our best to dry out, we scoffed Käsebrot and Nudelsuppe mit Wurst surrounded by the genial hubbub of the hut.

Then it was back out into the mist and rain for the hour back to the Ahornbahn. We were back at the hotel by 2.30pm, but we’d had a good day, and we weren’t too disappointed at not making the summit. The early start meant we had plenty of time for a snooze before afternoon tea and cake.

Dinner was Chicken in Mustard Sauce with potatoes and salad, and lemon posset for afters.

Friday 2nd September 2011

Day 7: Oh, Deer – Gerlosstein to Mayrhofen

8.00 miles / 250m Ascent / 1025m Descent

Once again, another fairish morning dawned, at odds with the forecast. We discussed options over breakfast and decided on an easy-looking route on the mountainside below the Gerlossteinwand.

Which meant getting a wriggle on as the bus we needed left at 8.20am, first heading north to Zell am Ziller then east towards the Gerlospass, where we alighted the bus above a series of long switchbacks at the small village of Hainzenberg, some 300m above the Ziller Valley floor. The gondola was ready and waiting so, by soon after 9.00am, we were up on the mountainside at 1650m and ready to go. There were quite a few walking options from the top of the lift, including a testing-looking via ferrata, but our route was a much more gentle affair – a contour path overlooking the Ziller Valley eventually leading back to Mayrhofen.


The first stretch was on a good, clear track, so the walking was easy, giving us chance to take in the spectacular views. After a few minutes we passed the Neue Katahorn Hütte – surely possessed of one of the most beautiful views in the area – then, a little further on, the Katahorn Alm; over 400 years old.


Beyond, we picked up a narrow woodland path. Being as we were about the first people through today, we were continually walking into dewy cobwebs. On the plus side, though, it was very quiet everywhere – so much so that we got within twenty metres of a deer resting on the path ahead of us before it became aware of us and disappeared silently into the undergrowth.

Soon we exited the woods and passed the Karlalm, another delightfully situated mountain hut. Just beyond we found a wooden bench and stopped for a few minutes to rest and read and admire the great view along the valley to the 3000m peaks at its end.


After a short level section, the path began to descend. Through pasture and flower-strewn meadows, past browsing cows and beautiful farm cabins, this, in the sunshine, was the alpine meadow at its most picture-perfect.




Next came a longish descent through quiet pine woods, with the occasional crossing of a forest track. Eventually, we came out into the open by a small farm surrounded by grassy fields near the Steinerkogelhütte, a mountain restaurant perched right on a cliff-edge looking down over Mayrhofen. Conveniently, it was about lunchtime, so we stopped for Specknödelsuppe and Radler, sitting on the terrace and soaking up the amazing views.


Afterwards we continued our descent towards Mayrhofen, aiming to miss the direct route into town so as to explore a little of Brandberg and the side valley. We had toyed with the idea of climbing part way up the far side of the valley, but it took a bit longer to get down than we anticipated and then rain began to fall, so we opted for the trundle back into town in time for tea and cake at the hotel.

We had another lazy afternoon before dinner – Italian Night – then our usual after dinner stroll prior to turning in for the night.

Saturday 3rd September 2011

Day 8: Food For Thought – Wiesenhof

5.00 miles / 430m Ascent / 430m Descent

Today was departure day, but by some quirk of good fortune we had a late flight home meaning we had a whole morning to do something with. All week we had been looking up at an attractive-looking mountain restaurant on the north-facing slopes of the Hauserberg – the Wiesenhof – that we had passed on the long descent at the start of the week. As it was about an hour away it seemed the perfect target.


Another stroke of good fortune meant it was a fine, warm morning. After sorting our packing and doing a bit of last minute shopping, we set off. At the edge of town we entered the quiet woods and followed a clear, rising track as it wound up the hillside. In what seemed like no time at all, we exited the trees and arrived at the Wiesenhof.


It’s a beautiful setting, perched on the side of the hill overlooking the valley with long reaching views northwards. We sat on the sun-dappled terrace sharing Käsebrot and Kaiserschmarrn and chatting to an elderly Dutchman, who had been living in Austria for 28 years, in our poor German. We figured out enough to know he had done some stuff in his time – some serious mountain tours and the like, including in winter – and had stood on many of the summits in the area.


Then it was time to head back. We retraced our steps through the still-quiet woods and glimpsed a woodpecker as it flitted between trees. All too soon we were back in town and, after a quick wash and brush up, aboard the bus for our transfer back to the airport. Being such a fine day, it was a great chance to admire the scenery – to plan future visits and to remember previous ones. And, God willing, there will be future visits to this fantastic country, where there is walking aplenty at all sorts of grades, and access to the higher realms is relatively so easy. All that is needed is somewhere to base yourselves, a map and a bit of imagination and away you go.

What could be easier?

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

Getting Back Into Gear

It’s often the case that, having reached a significant goal or fulfilled a long-standing ambition, the immediate aftermath is something of an anti-climax. You don’t mean it to be that way, it’s just that’s how it is. Ordinary life doesn’t quite match up to the exhilaration of that special time, and it can be hard to be enthused to the usual extent by the things that you normally enjoy.

Such has been the case for me since our return from Albania. It was an absolutely fantastic week – one that will linger long in the memory – and, thinking back to that wonderful country, scenery, culture and people, I am often possessed of a faraway look when I really should be concentrating on something else entirely.

Since returning, our walking has been low key and local. Other obligations – family visits, a stag night, the start of the new football season – have contributed to this, but there has definitely been an underlying lack of ambition about our walking in the last two or three weeks. Sure, we have pottered around a bit, getting some fresh air and exercise and adding a few miles to our total, but we’ve done nothing particularly challenging or noteworthy in recent weeks to warrant blogging about it.

Instead, I’ve taken the opportunity to re-evaluate some of my recent gear purchases. These are not especially technical reviews and, as I don’t have the luxury of a sponsorship deal (ha ha!), confined to what I have bought for myself in an attempt to upgrade my kit in the light of new innovation and past experience.

Like many outdoor enthusiasts, I enjoy reading gear reviews, but I often find them shrouded in technical talk and with little base in the real world: for example, reviewers claiming £400 jackets are good value – easily done if you don’t actually have to fork out for it yourself. Comparative tests such as the magazines provide can be helpful, but are only part of the story.

I also don’t like it that perfectly good gear is rejected out of hand because it doesn’t conform to some reviewers’ particular world view, and in this I am thinking mainly of the lightweight brigade who seem to dominate the review landscape (you know who you are!). Ten or twenty years ago, the issue of weight was a justified call; nowadays, there is tons of gear that conforms to the lightweight ideal and in the main it is simply an exercise in shaving a few grams off here and there, or to be able to claim, at least for a while, that it is the lightest version available.

To call a waterproof shell jacket at 500g or a pair of leather boots at 1400g “heavy” – and I have seen both with my own eyes in reviews during the last year – is, frankly, ludicrous.

I also believe that most readers of reviews are not high-altitude mountaineers, extreme LDP walkers, or super-nerdy, lightweight back-packers, but ordinary people happy to do day walks or maybe a week or two walking or trekking on holiday who just want to know if something is good or not before splashing out their hard-earned cash.

So I have tried to offer a “real world” outlook to my gear reviews, and also add in an element of long-term performance that is often missing from magazine assessments by revisiting the reviews at intervals. Are my initial opinions still justified? Does it still do what it claims after 6 months? Is the durability good? Especially given the price?

Having done a fair bit of walking over 30+ years, in all sorts of conditions – both in the UK and abroad – I think I can at least bring that experience to bear when assessing a product broadly speaking designed for the purpose. And, if I help you choose a good buy or avoid an expensive mistake, so much the better.

To see them, click on the "Gear" tab at the top of the page and scroll through.

Anyway, see what you think and I hope you enjoy them.