Monthly Archives: June 2015

Cycling in The Lot Valley.

This is a perfect cycling area – quiet lanes, not really too many steep gradients, beautiful villages with refreshments and also a  good network of VTT tracks. The tourist information offices have lots of free leaflets and maps – try the ones in Puy L’Eveque and Duravel. There is a particularly good set of routes produced by The Lot tourist board  –  http://www.tourisme-lot.comOver coffee and croissants I pour over the 1 in 25,000 map as I want to explore tracks alongside a large loop in The Lot to the east near Grezels. Choosing an off-road bike for practicality I planned quiet lanes over towards the area I was to explore. Memories of cycling through this area on a journey on the Camino to Santiago de Compostela several years ago came flooding back. On that occasion I spent a night in Cahors and cycled alongside The Lot somewhere, tasting the dark red wine of the area for the first time. I remember how the French people heartily welcomed a lone cyclist and how considerate car drivers were as opposed to the UK.

Soon I was on a well-signed cycle route through steepish hills amongst the vines and on down towards The Lot. Here I left the road to follow a grassy track alongside the river passing an old mill on a side stream. At a slipway there were plaques showing the heights of ‘recent’ floods, March 1912 appeared the worst.  I’ve seen The Lot in flood and it’s a frightening sight.As I cycled along a green lane by the river I came across the newish tourist passenger boat sailing by,  operating from Puy L’Eveque it seems a fairly tame trip. Much better to hire a canoe from the same people and explore yourself. A little further upstream is one of the canoe launching sites I’ve used in the past below a new weir and lock. I once found it surprisingly hard work getting back to Puy with my young Grandson against a strong headwind, kept getting blown back up the river whenever I stopped paddling for a rest.

The lane left the river through fields of sunflowers which were just coming into bloom. They are a classic summer sight in this region of France.

I pedalled along happily, pleased with my chosen route alongside the river. Even better was my arrival in previously unvisited Pescadoires which turned out to be a delightful hamlet just above the river. In the village square by the 11th-century church [with its series of Gargoyles] I had a potted history of the place from a lady out of one of the adjacent houses. She also proudly told me she lived next door to an English family who fly in for short breaks – such is the nature of modern travel. I wonder how many English own houses in the area and how this has affected traditional community life and the prices for the locals. My French wasn’t good enough to delve into those issues.Road cycling took me through Lagardelle as the clock struck 12 – mad dogs and Englishmen….      and on to Grezels. The restaurant La Terrace here had an interesting 18euro lunchtime menu, would return. Again in the village, some of the buildings displayed faded old signs from the recent past. These rural places must have been much more vibrant 50years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy with my morning’s cycle I returned home the same way I’d come, this being the soft option rather than a longer loop over steep hills.  Next time!  and in any case, I was ready for lunch. The afternoon temperature rose to 34C in the shade, they were harvesting the rapeseed in the adjacent field so the Kites were flying in. As a bonus in the evening we were visited by a deer and her fawn.

 

 

 

 

Long(er) walks in The Lot Valley.

Long is relative, in this heat  20k seems long. These walks take me into a more diverse landscape. Different valleys and ridges are visited from my base without having to use the car. I have several routes which, this fantastic week, have provided top class excursions. A long morning is set aside for exploration and  I’ve returned each time full of admiration for the landscape of the area.

As a good example, I leave this morning along easy tracks in the oak forest. Sunday scrambler bikes, much as I shun them, help to keep these ways clear. Very few other people use them.

Over a ridge little paths brush through aromatic lavender. This is a splendid spot for a breather and a chance to admire the varied butterflies and watch the buzzards wheeling overhead. I’ve given up trying to get decent photos of either.

 

 

 

 

 

Down into a secluded valley of scattered houses threaded with quiet lanes [ideal for cycling – see later post] and I’m soon into the little village of Touzac. The cafe is closed today but there is a welcome water tap, as there is in all the hamlets passed today. It’s good to reach the River Lot itself, a grand stretch of water, which here is crossed by an impressive metal bridge.

A scheme is well under way to restore navigation to this once important river by installing a series of locks thus providing for boat trips as a tourist attraction.

There is a gradual climb up a wooded valley and on past hillsides of tidy vineyards.

At the top there is a stone cross as this part of the trail is on one of the pilgrimage routes to Santiago de Compostela, hence the Scallop Shell the symbol of the route.

Worth visiting just a short distance off the track is the pretty village of Cavagnac centred around the church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As you leave the village steeply downhill there are views towards the valley of La Theze and the next village to be visited, ancient Saint-Matin-le-Redon. The cliffs on the right, Montcabrier, have given me good days climbing in the past. The cafe in the village has closed long ago. I love these traditional, but now fading, signs on cafes and shops so evocative of France.

A long ascent over yet another ridge on good paths is made bearable by the shade of the Chestnut trees.

Lanes lead into Duravel giving views across the valley to Vire, numerous family vineyards and the wooded ridges behind with the prominent water tower visible. Duravel has pleasant stone houses and narrow alleys surrounding the medieval church and is worth exploring. Time for a refreshing drink in the Cafe de la Mairie. It is difficult to find off-road walking back to the bridge over The Lot at Vire-sur-Lot and the road is long and hot – better to phone for a friendly pick up.

View over The Lot Valley from Duravel.

View over The Lot Valley from Duravel.

Short walks in The Lot Valley.

All short walks lead to home.  In this heat days drift into one and so do the walks. There are many short circuits from the house. To fit in with gardening, cooking and lounging I can do some before breakfast, some before supper and at this time of year in the late evenings. The bird life is best early but the light is magic in the evenings.

Usually I’m heading up into the woods, which here are mainly dense oak. In the mornings you hear but hardly ever see deer scuttling away. There are few flowers on the forest floor, Scabious and Red Hellibore are probably the commonest.

Wild boar have been especially busy grubbing up the ground this year. They come right down into the garden at night.

Most orchids have died back but in a meadow of poor soil I come across a few Lizard Orchids which I haven’t seen before.

Where forest tracks join roads waste tipping often seems to be a problem – same as in England unfortunately.

Views can be limited until one is on the ridges clear of the trees but then distant vistas open with scant habitations. Lovely old farmsteads, many now holiday homes, dot the valleys and hillsides. Pigeon towers are often a feature, typical of the area, giving both food and fertilizer in the past. Today deep in the woods in a secluded valley I came across an old well, complete with bucket on a cord, I wonder when it was last used? There are ruins hereabouts.

A word of warning – these woods are home to ticks. Tucked in trousers have become de rigueur, trez chic.

BACK IN THE LOT.

Puy L’Eveque on The Lot.

Its great to be back in France. A later plane schedule had us arriving at 17.00 but still time for a cafe au lait in the beautiful village of Issigeac.tmp_SAM_2638-1246733509

A short time later I was having a swim and then enjoying a glass of Cahors red. A deer walks through the garden and a nightingale begins to sing. No plans, perfect.

ANGLEZARKE AMBLE.

Not ‘The Anglezarke Amble’ which is a LDWA organised 24mile challenge walk/run but a pleasant amble around the reservoir with two old friends. This easy walk fitted in with the Plastic Bag Man’s recuperation from knee injury and the Professor was willing to come along for the chat, we go back a long way. The south end of the reservoir was a good meeting place. We all commented on the increased traffic encountered on the journey here, guess that is a fact of the times and that we should think more seriously about using public transport. The paths were dry after the recent fine weather and the day hot and mainly sunny – ideal for ambling.SAM_2635

The reservoir was constructed in the 1859’s to supply water to Liverpool and is part of a chain of reservoirs in the Rivington area. We passed the Tudor style  Waterman’s Cottage built by Liverpool Corporation.

White Coppice is a small hamlet with some fine cottages, now highly prized. It is well known for it’s sloping cricket pitch in an idyllic situation. We sat eating our sandwiches on a bench watching the groundsman fine tune the batting area in readiness for this weekends fixture.

On the return we looked into Lester Mill Quarry once a fairly popular climbing venue, nobody appears to visit now. Some of the longer extreme graded climbs look distinctly uninviting, they were always a bit scary with dubious rock. [the midges were just as dangerous] That is why this quarry was always a poor second to the well used Anglezarke across the road.  Managed to identify one climb we three often did as a warm up – Lester Rib VD on a small buttress at the entrance to the quarry. The quarry was originally worked for paving stones still being walked on in Manchester and Salford. 

Lester Rib.

Lester Rib.

The Plastic Bag Man’s knee survived the 6 miles, we considered the extension around Rivington Reservoir but as the heat was so oppressive we opted for a cool pint in the nearby Bay Horse, an old haunt from post Anglezarke climbing evenings.

Getting better – Gouther Crag climbing.

Gouther Crag.

                                                                   Gouther Crag.

June continues. The forecast was even better for Thursday, less wind and cloud with warmer temperatures. I’ve just realised how many of my posts commence with a reference to the weather, how dependent on the forecast are ‘we outdoor types’?  So I couldn’t resist another day in the Lakes whilst the dry weather lasts and found a willing accomplice in Dave. The lanes leading into the secluded Swindale don’t seem to know whether they are in the Lakes or the Dales but were a delight this morning. The limited parking before Truss Gap Farm was even more limited today as major engineering work was being undertaken to improve water catchment in the valley. With help from the workers we squeezed into a space amongst the white vans. A little bridge crossed the stream to a track up the valley but as we packed a digger came along and lifted it up discarding it onto the bank as the river was being diverted. A new way will be found in the future no doubt.

The crag looked scruffy and vegetated on the hillside above and we found the indistinct track steep and strenuous, not encouraging. But all changed when we arrived at the Fang Buttress, there hidden up a gully and just coming into the sunshine was a magnificent wall and an ominous hanging slab.

Fang Buttress.

                                                           Fang Buttress.

I relished  the rough steep rock of Kennel Wall and Dave travelled the amazing situations on The Fang. Lakeland climbing at it’s best.

 

Kennel Wall up the centre crack.

                                  Kennel Wall up the central crack.

 

High on The Fang.

                                                      High on The Fang.

We had time to relax and enjoy the sunshine with views of the valley. No one else appeared. Two routes were enough, we walked down past Truss Buttress with routes for another day and then it was roof down for the drive home.

Truss Buttress.

                                                        Truss Buttress.

Almost Summer – Wallowbarrow Climbing.

This has been a favourite venue of mine for decades. Driving along the narrow lane  brought back memories of days climbing here with many good friends, some sadly no longer with us, camping in the fields below the crag and pints in the Newfield Inn across the river. One is still allowed to park near the characterful farm which over the years has had a varied human and animal population.  Gone are the Nepalese pheasants which used to chase you up the track. I notice there is now a camping barn available.

The morning was overcast and definitely cool, not what we had expected. The short walk up through the trees brought us under the empty West Buttress but we traversed over to the popular East Buttress, round the corner were a cheerful group experiencing multi pitch climbing for the first time.

We shivered our way up the clean  Digitation VS and Trinity Slabs VD [my first lead for two years]. The sun came out later and Paradise VS was obviously more pleasurable. Sitting on the top opens up the views down the valley and behind you the Coniston and Bowfell hills which were now in brighter light. A good end to the day.

Looking up Digitation.

Looking up Digitation.

Looking down Trinity Slabs.

Looking down Trinity Slabs.

Dunnerdale.

The 4th Day of June – Robin Proctor’s Scar.

Another good forecast, two in a row!,  we were off for half a day’s climbing on Yorkshire Limestone. The afternoon turned out hot and sunny with little wind left over from  the last few days, perfect for the often breezy Robin Proctor’s Scar. Situated at the southern end of Norber, famous for it’s erratics – gritstone boulders perched on the limestone.

An erratic sheep.

An erratic sheep.

Despite my lack of climbing I made up the team with Dave and Rod, someone has to take the photos. A perfect Dales scenery presented itself when we parked up for the short but steep walk in.

Crummackdale.

Crummackdale.

Crummackdale to the north east looked stunning, the crags there providing some classic climbs in the HVS – E2 range. I remember well Olympus, Venus, Little Pink Clare, Feeling the Pinch and Brothers. All brilliant routes requiring delicate technique and offering rather poor protection my diary tells me. That was then but this is now – we are heading for a similar steep crag which has been transformed by a good clean up and bolting, thanks initially to Alan Steele. When we arrived there were about eight other climbers in action – I wonder how many on Crummackdale? Sign of the times.

Steep approach.

Steep approach.

Dr. Frank's Nightmare.

Dr. Frank’s Nightmare.

Tombstone Blues.

Tombstone Blues.

There was plenty of chat with old acquaintances and some geriatrics were climbing at a good standard. This is a superb venue. Sunbathing at the base of the crag was a  treat after the recent cold windy weather.The view is tranquillity itself.  I managed to second a few steep and technical climbs on good limestone, but felt I was so far away from leading at this modest standard which was rather depressing. Think I need to get up to the Lakes and put some easy routes under my belt.

For the record –

Gone With The Wind. F5+

Just Cruisin’ Living The Dream. F5

Dr. Frank[enstein’s] Nightmare. F5+

Tombstone Blues. F6a                  There is an inscription at the base of this climb recording the death of someone who fell over the crag in 1893. Spooky.

Thank God for bolts.

Thank God for bolts.

As we left a team were climbing the hard for the grade The Marshall Plan F6b+  –  a perfect backdrop to a perfect day.

Climber on The Marshall Plan.

Climber on The Marshall Plan.

PS. Who was Robin Proctor? The story of Robin Proctor is not a particularly happy one. He was a farmer who lived in a Crummackdale farm with his wife and two small sons. He was a good farmer and his business was quite successful. Every night he would take his horse out of the stable and ride down the valley to the local hostelry. These nights of drinking and laughter became longer and longer and sometimes it would be well into the early hours before Robin was ready to make the long ride back up the dale to his house. He would often be so tired and drunk he would climb on his horse and fall asleep.  It was fortunate for him that the horse was old and clever and knew the way back to the farmhouse with Robin Proctor asleep in the saddle. Sometimes he would fall off and wake up with a start as he hit the ground, but often he was still asleep when the horse arrived back at the stable. Being a clever horse it found a way of dropping Robin Proctor into the straw where he would sleep until morning.  One night however the weather was very bad and the wind and the rain were awful. Robin’s wife told him not to go out with the weather so terrible but he would not listen and put on his greatcoat and took out the horse and rode off to the inn. He was not a bad man and before he started drinking he put his horse in the stable behind the inn for some shelter, as had some of his friends. The evening was a very merry one and after lots of beer Robin Proctor had become quite drunk. He did however remember that his horse was in the stable. He went to the stable behind the inn, brought out a horse and set off back home. Unfortunately he was so drunk that he hadn’t realised that he had taken the wrong horse! It was too late. He set out riding the horse back towards his farmhouse and quickly fell asleep. This horse had no idea where it was going but being a good horse it kept on going up the lanes and was soon in the middle of the moors in the terrible storm, walking in the dark with Robin Proctor asleep on its back. The poor horse continued until it arrived at the top of a cliff and, not knowing any better, it kept on going, plummeting over the edge and falling on to the rocks at the bottom! They were both killed instantly and ever since the cliff has been known as Robin Proctor’s Scar. It is said that on wild and windy nights the sound of horses hoofs can still be heard around the cliff.  [Ingleborough Hall Outdoor Education Centre]

Heading home.

Heading home.

THREE DAYS IN JUNE.

Yes it’s June but one couldn’t be sure.

1st. The first two days I was entertaining my youngest grandson. It hardly stopped raining and the wind was threatening to blow a six year old off his feet. Despite this we built a dam in a stream coming off Longridge Fell

Dammed good fun.

Dammed good fun.

2nd.  and we sailed pooh-sticks from a bridge on the turbulent Dean Brook at Hurst Green the next day  All great fun and a great commune with nature.

3rd. At last today the wind has dropped and I’ve enjoyed a pleasant day. gardening has taken preference but by tea time I couldn’t resist a quick walk up Longridge Fell. Having parked at Cardwell House I took what I call the ‘balcony’ route onto the fell – it traverses above the Vale of Chipping with views to Fairsnape, round to The Trough of Bowland and the Three Yorkshire Peaks. Tonight was particularly clear.

The path was wetter than I had expected and trainers were not the best footwear option.Leaving the trig point I cut through the trees to the southern side of the fell where the view over comparatively more industrial Lancashire was a contrast. Wind farms seem to be spreading – lets hope the same doesn’t happen on the Bowland Fells seen to the north.

South.

South.

North.

North.

Postscript –

I heard that noted author, naturalist and environmentalist Robert Macfarlane was appearing on BBC’s Spring Watch Unsprung tonight. I was dismayed to find myself watching ‘Top Gear with Animals’ – the three presenters doing a good impersonation on a contrived set surrounded by an apparently amused audience. Not my idea of a nature presentation but maybe I’m out of date. Mr Macfarlane’s contribution was of little importance amongst the general hullabaloo. Shame.

A beautiful moon seen from my room completed the evening and bodes well for an improving start to June.