STYLES OF STILES.

Ancient bridleway out of Grindleton.

This summit cairn is not regularly visited and it’s years since I’ve been up here. Any ideas as to its location? ……………..

We arrived here via this isolated trig point – any ideas? …………

I’d planned a 9mile walk for today as the weather forecast was good, cold and sunny. We didn’t have as heavy a snow fall as predicted and most had melted yesterday. Coffee was on at my house at 9am for the Rockman [travelling from Bolton] and Sir Hugh [travelling from Arnside]. Equidistant planning. I coaxed my car across to Grindleton on the north side of the Ribble Valley, an interesting village with many rows of cottages in hidden back streets. Having left the village we vaguely climbed up through complicated fields onto the fell. We encountered a multitude of stiles on the way, some ancient stone squeeze ones had been over ridden by modern wooden ones. Even the simple wooden ones seemed awkward, either at a funny angle and height or doubled up.

Courtesy of Conrad.

Our creaking stiff joints didn’t appreciate them and we in fact took to a quiet lane to make life easier. Soon we were at the trig point 305m Beacon Hill, a fine viewpoint of Ribblesdale. The ground all around is rather boggy and the forests hereabouts seem different shapes to our map, the result of felling and replanting. Easington Fell, 396m came next with even better views to the Three Peaks and the Bowland Fells. Time for lunch and talk turned to the virtues of Higgidy Pies, the sun came and went. Lanes led down the fell. We were lucky to watch a Sparrow Hawk pluck a luckless Starling out of a flock. Our next objective was the hidden Drakehouse valley, a deep ghyll in the woods. progress was hampered by debris from recent flooding but we enjoyed the almost secret paths down here. A pleasant stroll by the Ribble brought us back to Grindleton, completing a surprisingly varied tramp. My legs are aching tonight after all those stiles and boggy ground. You may get a true record of the day from http://conradwalks.blogspot.co.uk/

GR131 GRAN CANARIA – change of plans.

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From Top to Bottom.

All good things come to an end. I was up all night with the most awful abdominal pain! If I’d been at home would have gone to hospital – ?appendix ?kidney stone. Eased up after an interminable 7 hours and spent the rest of the day resting in bed feeling sorry for myself and disappointed about missing the walking in this fantastic weather. The hotel were very helpful, and we booked another night. John had a great day’s walking with a taxi back to Cruz de Tejeda. Saturday I was feeling better but didn’t dare set off into the wilderness. So we had a pleasant short walk down to the village of Tejeda, a lovely little spot where we dallied on a bar terrace overlooking the valley across to Artenara.

Roque Nublo above Tejeda.

Sleepy Tajeda.

Towards Artenara with Cueva de los Candiles high on the right cliff.

The bus didn’t leave from where we thought, so we had a bit of a rush down to the small bus station. I didn’t envy the driver’s task of negotiating the steep narrow hairpins over steep drops, he did hit the barrier on one hairy section! Two hours later we were in the busy holiday resort of Maspalomas, installed in our hotel apartment and enjoying a swim in the pool. Another world from where we had been. Our complex was massive but surprisingly pleasant and clean. I didn’t really like the fitting of a wristband for our stay, shades of electronic tagging. Are they trying to stop us running away, not something I’m used to? We were given a map of the complexes, and it took us some time to locate our room, even worse when we tried to find the restaurant. We ended up on the streets outside and arrived back where we started, the areas all looked the same! Maybe tagging would be useful for finding lost, and hungry, guests.

Sunday was our last full day, John was not happy to go back up into the mountains where I could possibly take a turn for the worse [somebody has to have some sense]. So after a leisurely breakfast we walked through the no man’s land of apartments and shops to Meloneras beach where we had a swim and dried off in the sun before heading back to a little restaurant, La Esquinita del Mar, for lunch. Papas arrugadas con mojo sauces and then the local fresh Cherne [Wreck fish].

As an aside I noticed a quirky translation elsewhere of ‘papas arrugadas’ wrinkled potatoes. Mis hijos quedaron encantados con sus papas arrugadas – became – My children were delighted with their parents’ wrinkles.

Walking back past some exclusive looking hotels along the wide promenade ‘living statues’ were in evidence, some quite clever. At the lighthouse at Faro, a prominent landmark, it was 28 degrees and everyone was making use of the good weather sunbathing and swimming. One can see why Northern Europeans flock here in the winter. The southern tip of the Island is famous for its sand-dunes above the beach, and I was keen to see them, I wasn’t expecting all the other sights I saw. Some things are best kept hidden. I can’t really end with that photo so here’s another cheeky chap seen along the way …..

Gran Canarian Giant Lizard.

All being well we will be on a plane home tomorrow, I hear the weather back in Britain hasn’t been that good – can’t wait.

(as a postscript we were back in Gran Canaria a couple of months later to walk, this time successfully, from south to north. GR131 GRAN CANARIA – Barranco de los Vicentillos. | bowlandclimber

GR131 on GRAN CANARIA – caves in the sky.

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Artenara – Cruz de Tejeda.

Another leisurely start and another perfect day. we say goodbye to the lovely people at the cave. Breakfast at Bar Tamadaba was taken in the town square, tomate tostada and good coffee. Lanes led to the hills above with views once more to distant Mount Teide. On the ridge we came across a sign for Cueva de los Candiles describing it as one of the most important pre – Hispanic caves with hundreds of carved triangles possibly representing the female pubes, fertility symbols? The approach to the cave was described as dangerous and precarious, so we were soon scrambling down the loose cliff face in search of the cave. After a few false descents we found a metal ladder taking us down to an exposed terrace leading to the cave in the rock face. Disappointingly the entrance was barred, and it was difficult to make out the carvings but what a situation 400m above the valley.

The best ‘triangle’ I could see.

We had not seen much in the way of bird life in the hills, some Kestrels yesterday but up here we spotted a Barbary Falcon flying across the cliffs below us. Continuing along the ridge we found more caves [all barred] Cuevas Caballero which were worth exploring, this time without risking life and limb. There was an interesting carved face in the rock, but this was probably of a different date.

Back on the ridge we had a surprise view down to the capital Las Palmas.

The day was disappearing, and we hadn’t gone far, but good paths led us towards the col of Cruz de Tejeda where all the day trippers land up in the centre of the island. We had a beer on the terrace of the exclusive state run Parador hotel but couldn’t afford a swim in their heated pool. The view down the caldera is impressive, as is everywhere in these mountains. The sombre pilgrim cross overlooks the busy tourist cafés and stalls and our more modest hotel, El Refugio, was tucked away behind. There were pleasant gardens with a pool which looked inviting in the hot afternoon sun – but turned out to be freezing, about 15degrees [we are at 1500m], so we didn’t linger.

We were in a cheap attic dorm type room and suffered several head injuries as we moved about. The couple running the place were most charming and provided a good Canarian evening meal with honey/rum to finish. Recommended.

NEXT.

GR131 on GRAN CANARIA – through the forest.

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Tamadaba – Artenara.

The morning was perfect, clear and sunny and already warm. We supped our tea gazing at the view from the cave across the caldera valley to Roque Nublo and Roque Bentayga as cocks, mules and goats awoke. The Acusa plateau to the west reminded me of Andean landscapes. The small Bar Diaz provided us with desayuno, tostada con tomate, although the coffee on the Island is rather strange. Our taxi man turned up at 10, and we were soon back in the trees of Tamadaba. We climbed up to the summit at 1444m for a view of Mount Teide on Tenerife.

Undulating paths led along the pine covered ridge. We passed a giant eggshell of larva which would have made the perfect bivvy. The path was well waymarked and was really only running parallel to the road with several well frequented view points. Soon we were overlooking Artenara and were drawn into the town square and the rather touristy Bar Tamadaba. So it was a mixed tapas and beer including the classic ‘patatas arrugadas’ with mojo sauces and fish croquettes. We took the opportunity to walk up to la Ermita de la Cuevita a church inside one of the many caves on the hillside. Up here we passed many inhabited caves with goats and chickens scattered about.

Dropping back down to our own cave as the sun was setting and a new influx of interesting people. A mother and daughter from England had come up on the bus and were adjusting to high altitude cave life. We set off into the village hoping for supper and found the only place open was our Bar Diaz. Classic Canarian meal of mixed salad and dorada [a type of sea bream] and chips. The local ‘Tropical’ beer was good as was the company. About 7euro per head. Bought some more wine and retired to the cave for another chilled out evening. The old hippy in me is resurfacing.

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GR131 on GRAN CANARIA – into the mountains.

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Puerto de las Nieves – Tamadaba.

Aeroplane and bus had us onto the Island and into the busy capital Las Palmas, where Christopher Columbus stopped over [1492] as did we; and the next morning over to Puerto de las Nieves, a sleepy port on the north-west coast. Time over coffee to adjust to the sun and temperatures climbing into the high 20’s. The GR131 is not marked as such on Gran Canaria, but the route across the island is covered by a series of well signed and numbered paths. We picked up the S90 on the edge of town and started climbing.

The path was well contoured through the volcanic ash and soon typical Canarian plants were distracting us from our task. A new bulldozed track gave us easy walking, its purpose we found out was to access land where millions of trees were going to be planted. The workers put us on to our smaller continuing path up the rocky crest [a sign will be needed]. Steep slopes were crossed and a large party of 25 walkers met descending, there is a walking festival on the Island at present. At over 600m old terracing appeared and an ‘era’ threshing floor. I suppose this was the reason for our old path in the first place. Surrounded by cliffs and with good views down to the coast this was a good place for a rest and snack. Also, an opportunity to compare the carrying properties of our respective packs, my back was soaked in sweat from my basic Golite sack whilst John was dry using an updated airflow Osprey pack. Sometimes the quest for the lightest carry has its downfalls.

The stone paved path now climbed steeply to find a breach in the cliffs above and entered the forest of Canary Pines at 1000m.

Volcanic bomb.

This was a different world of shade and mist with silent needle covered paths, hanging lichens and giant heathers. The absence of any other walkers enhanced its spookiness. We hit the road where I had hoped the taxi would appear and sat and wondered if it would. There was no mobile reception.

Taxi!!!!!

This is not a particularly busy road, we only saw one other car, so when a taxi came round the bend we stopped it and jumped in. The driver’s replies to my stuttering Spanish had us worried whether we were in the right taxi – he didn’t seem to know my name or where we were staying, and his phone number was different from the one I had. The simplest solution was to keep quiet and get to our hostal in Artenara. We arranged to see him in the morning for the journey back.

Our hostal was in fact a cave house, and a very good cave it was. Adam the ‘warden’ was from Hungary and the other guests from France and Belgium. The laissez faire [can’t translate that into Spanish] atmosphere was perfect for the situation – a cave with the most fantastic outlook and that black cat, Sombre. [El Warung Cave Hostel]. We had no food with us so wandered into the village to eat only to find that due to some previous local festival every bar was closed. A shop provided us with pasta, beer and wine, and it was back up to the cave for a convivial evening. The stars were fantastic and the planets almost aligned. Should be good tomorrow.

PS. The taxi was the correct one.

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GR131 on GRAN CANARIA – Plans.

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Cicerone Press.

A rather bleary eyed friend, John, opened his door last week – “we’ve just arrived back from Tenerife at 4am this morning!”

“Oh – so you won’t want to go walking in Gran Canaria starting this weekend? We might have to bivvy a few nights but the weather should be good”

“I’ll have a think about it”

We ‘outdoor types’ seem to live from one expedition to the next, there is never enough time for all the potential trips. I’d come across the GR131 on La Gomera last December and realised it’s potential for winter walking. Cicerone, as ever, do guides. The trail links all the seven Canary Islands and I thoroughly enjoyed the Lanzarote section at the beginning of this year. My plan was to try and complete the other Islands this winter. Gran Canaria would easily fit into the week I had free.

A day later – “Yes I’ll come, what do we need?”

So I booked the flights, getting and paying for more than I expected from Thomas Cook. Taking trekking poles [a security risk] always means having to book expensive hold luggage, but somehow I bought unnecessary reserved seats and meals as well.

Planning went into overdrive and within a couple of days we had booked accommodation for every night to reduce the amount of gear needed. This did involve however the use of taxis for complicated transfer link-ups, and I wasn’t confident some of my telephone conversations in Spanish.

The Map Shop at Upton-on-Severn sent me a map by the next day, one of the superb Discovery Tour and Trail series. I’d got my rucksack weight down to 6kg, John’s was only a couple of Kilograms heavier, but he was much fitter than I having just completed the Cape Wrath Trail with camping gear. We were ready to go.

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PEN-Y-GHENT and PLOVER HILL.

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If I had labelled this post just Plover Hill most wouldn’t have heard of it, whereas Pen-y-ghent is justifiably popular as a walk and as an iconic view along with its neighbour Ingleborough. Yes – it has a Welsh name [hill of the winds] because a version of Welsh was spoken throughout Britain before the Anglo Saxon invasion.Just enjoyed a grand half day’s walk up here. I didn’t get away early as the day was supposed to brighten later – it didn’t – setting off from Horton at 12am. To avoid the unpleasant, steep and crowded direct route from Brackenbottom I used the lanes past old barns and Dub Cote farm to join the bridleway up to a shake-hole named Churn Milk Hole. From here one gets a dramatic view of Pen-y-ghent rising above you, the bands of limestone capped with a gritstone helmet. High up round to the left out of sight is a gritstone cliff where I’ve climbed in past years. A climb called Red Pencil Direct featured in the Ken Wilson Classic Rock ‘tick’ book, all the climbs here are steep and have a terrific sense of exposure.There are some recent reports of rockfall, it always felt a bit scary with some loose rock and those overhangs above you.

Until now I had seen only sheep but once onto the main track it became a circus of people struggling up, even being pushed up the steep bits, and falling down the slippy limestone bits. I didn’t linger with the crowds on the summit, 694m, as the mist had come down making it cold and miserable with no views. Going due north along the ridge brings you to the subsidiary rounded summit of Plover Hill, 680m. The sedgy grasses along the way seemed to be taking on an attractive Autumnal colouring. I’d forgotten how eroded and boggy the way was, surprising really as we have had a month of relatively dry weather, any rain and it will be a quagmire!From the summit there were views of Pen-y-ghent, Ingleborough and Whernside as the mist lifted off their tops for a brief moment – the Three Peaks. Leaving the top and heading north takes you down to an extensive limestone bluff through which the path takes a delightful rake. From here looking into Foxup valley the lines of limestone sink holes following some fault are clearly seen. The whole area must be perfect for geology field trips.

Returning along the valley I just had to make the detour to Hull Pot, a massive hole in the ground with only a trickle of water today.

Along here the Pennine Way is joined but I also realised I was following ‘A Pennine Journey’. This is a relatively new 247 mile LDW based on the journey of the celebrated Alfred Wainwright, undertaken in 1938, up the East side of the Pennines to Hadrian’s Wall and back down the West side to Settle. His story of this trip is worth reading not only for his own personal observations but also an insight into rural life in the years leading up to WW II. How things have changed.

The enclosed bridleway gave quick walking back to Horton with distant views to Pendle. The clocks have just gone back so dusk came early and smoke was rising from the cottage chimneys, the sign of cold dark nights to come – maybe time to head off to warmer climes.

THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE RIBBLE VALLEY – the known bits.

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Sabden – Gisburn.

Just like a summer’s day from the moment I left Sabden for the moorland ascent up to the Nick of Pendle, which turned out to be easier than expected. People were parking up ready for the popular walk up the spine of the hill but I was heading straight down the otherside on a moorland path towards Pendleton. Turning my back on Pendle, views over the Ribble Valley and Clitheroe to the Bowland Fells opened up with Kemple End very prominent.

Looking back at Pendle and the incongruous ski slope.

Kemple End with the Bowland Fells behind.

Kemple End and Ribble Valley with the Bowland Fells behind.

Wymendhouse turned out to have been a former Congregational Church hidden in the hills. At the entrance to Pendleton someone had a collection of strange little ?military vehicles, no idea what they were.

Also somebody needs to remove this forgotten skip…There is a bridleway all along the side of Pendle Hill connecting old farmhouses and it is always a joy to walk, particularly today in the sunshine. As you approach Downham limestone knolls appear, underfoot the ground is different and Penyghent is seen in the background. A new little cafe/ice-cream parlour was waiting for me as I entered the hamlet, perfect for a sit down and a coffee. I didn’t dally long as I was hoping to catch an early bus and was only halfway. The upmarket Assheton Arms was busy with diners sitting outside.This used to be our watering hole after an evenings climbing on the limestone of nearby Witches Quarry. I took the familiar path out of the village and over the hill, with Dales views, to the little packhorse bridge over Swanside Beck. I camped here many years ago whilst on a walk around the Lancashire boundary and it has always been a special place to return to.

The next stretch seemed arduous with poor waymarking, blocked gates, bulls and the close proximity to some game shooting land. Had the feeling I was not wanted. Had to remind myself I was out for a walk – stop getting angry.

Which rare birds are they shooting?

Weets Hill was clear in front of me and a helpful navigational tool… I was up there on my last local two day trek way back in May, the West Craven Way.

WEST CRAVEN WAY – East Marton Bracewell Barnoldswick.

Time was getting short when I arrived onto a country lane and was able to make faster progress but this was negated by a last unmarked stretch across large fields. Maybe I stopped a little too long admiring the view over to Ingleborough and Penyghent.

Distant Ingleborough.

I came down into Gisburn just as the bus passed the lane end – I’m sure he left early. Fortunately on the corner was a cafe I had never noticed before. It turned out to be a busy cafe/delicatessen/village shop/meeting place with very friendly staff. A bowl of Butternut Squash soup with chunky bread helped my bus disappointment.

I had time to wander round the village with its many old houses, the Church was locked but I found the grave stone of Francis Duckworth, 1862 – 1941. He composed many hymn tunes including the famous ‘Rimington’ – I didn’t know that.

So a couple of excellent days walking helped by the the splendid October weather, good hospitality, new paths found and old favourites visited.

THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE RIBBLE VALLEY – the unknown bits.

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Mellor Brook – Sabden.

The LDWA web site is a good source of information on potential walks. You can search in whichever area and for whatever length, maps are displayed. Looking for a two day local trek, whilst the good weather holds out, I unearthed the 26mile ‘Walk the Eastern Side of the Ribble Valley’ from Mellor Brook to Gisburn. A booklet is available from the author Trevor Headley, though I managed without it. I’ve sent off for it as I feel there will be useful information for some unanswered questions en-route. Some of my climbing friends have gone off to Kalymnos, I declined from lack of fitness, and it was strange that I parked up almost outside one of their houses in Mellor Brook this morning.

I walked out on the original A59 through the village… … now thankfully bypassed, and climbed back up to the village of Mellor. The village loos have been sold… Further on the way I passed the Methodist Church which has been tastefully rebuilt after the old one was demolished, probably an improvement though I can’t find pictures of the original. Next up was Mellor Moor, one of Lancashire’s best kept secrets. At the top there are 360 degree views, well not today, of the whole region from the Lakes to Yorkshire and to Wales. Uniquely this modest hill, 223m, has a defunct Royal Observation Nuclear Blast and Fallout Monitoring Station from the cold war era . The monitoring post was opened in July 1959, and was decommissioned in October 1968. Many local people still believe that this was a nuclear shelter for the use of the population during times of war. A millennium viewpoint pillar has been more recently erected.

Local field paths were followed with ancient stone squeeze stiles, agricultural paths or inter- village routes. I speculated on the traffic in the 18th century or before. Going past the barking dogs of Hagg’s Hall I came upon a row of derelict and abandoned wooden homes, ?weekend retreats. They formed a nostalgic link with the 50’s and 60’s but I can find no information on them.

PS May 2016 https://hutters.uk/2016/05/03/chalets-at-haggs-hall-fields-blackburn/

Enclosed paths through the gardens of suburban Wilpshire brought me out onto the well groomed Wilpshire Golf Course, there has to be one on every long walk. I walked through in under par despite the low drizzly cloud. Open moorland had me scanning for bulls – this one looked quite friendly.

Another new area to me was the delightful path above Dean Clough reservoir with views opening up towards Pendle as the weather improved. Sitting on a bench on the outskirts of Great Harwood I ate a banana. Lanes led me to the surprisingly active Bowley Scout Camp, another of Lancashire’s hidden secrets. Acres and acres of camping and adventure activities. An ancient scout helped me navigate out of the site down to the River Calder.

I had no time for a drink at the Game Cock Inn with it’s inscription – ‘House of Massey’ – a defunct Burnley Brewery. Crossing the river at Cock bridge I was soon entering the impressive grounds of Read Hall. As I walked up the drive way I couldn’t but help notice the wrought iron railings, in my street all that remains of these are stubs in the stone walls after they were removed for the moral boosting war effort of the 40’s. I asked myself why not here?

In the lanes above Read some farmer had a sense of humour…More local [?original] humour seen on the way…

After many fields of horses I climbed up into lovely autumnal woods and a surprise stone base of a cross – unknown origin? After that it was all downhill to the secluded village of Sabden in the bosom of Pendle Hill. The Nick of Pendle, tomorrow morning’s objective was plain to see way above.I couldn’t find accommodation here so I caught a bus to Clitheroe and spent a comfortable night [I was knackered] at The Inn at the Station. Recommended.

THREE-IN-ONE – a fulfilling weekend.

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It’s that period of the year again, the leaves are turning and the evenings darkening, and it’s time for the annual autumn visit from my old mate Mel.

[ See previous posts to get an idea of what we get up to. —

Walking the Calories off??

https://bowlandclimber.com/2013/11/16/a-busy-weekend-a-long-post-of-short-walks-art-and-restaurants/ ]

His wife packs his thermals and sends him up North. This year however we are blessed with warm and calm weather so were able to make the best of his visit.

In brief we ate an Uzbek banquet [haven’t posted about my trip to Uzbekistan yet], a couple of local restaurant curries, a take away Chinese and some bar snacks.

Uzbek banquet.

Thankfully interspersed were three good and variable outdoor days’ exercise.

1. The Yorkshire Sculpture Park.

A long drive over to Wakefield and we arrived at Bretton Hall whose stately grounds act as the backdrop to the YSP, I’ve been meaning to come here for ages. Hepworth, Gormley, Goldsworthy, Moore, Miro, Caro, Frink … they are all here and many many more. A real feast for the senses. We wandered around the grounds in beautiful sunshine like two kids in a sweet shop, new discoveries round every corner.One cannot see everything in one visit and I’ll have to do a separate post on the YSP soon. We were lucky that the spectacular Cummins/Piper ‘Poppy Wave’ installation [from London] was in the park and attracting a lot of visitors.Another stroke of luck was the opening today of several video installations from Bill Viola, these powerful visualisations explore the human condition in a unique way using light and water. The Chapel and the Underground Gallery where they are staged seem to be perfect locations. This show is on until April – a reason in itself to visit the park. Try this video for an impression of Viola’s work….

2. Fairy Steps Limestone / Dallam Deer Park.

We met up with Conrad [http://conradwalks.blogspot.com/] at Milnthorpe for one of my favourite short walks on a promising morning. The tide was out as we climbed away from the Kent sand banks. I was keen to revisit a fascinating area of water-eroded limestone above the large quarry. From there we followed delightful woodland paths to the Fairy Steps – a cleft in the escarpment in which legend says if you don’t touch the sides the ‘fairy’ grants a wish, fat chance; excuse the pun. Down to the 16th -century coaching inn The Wheatsheaf in Beetham for a light bar-snack and a pint of Wainwrights. Dallied in the working 18th-century Heron Corn Mill and strolled through the manicured Dallam Tower deer park. A perfect walk in miniature.

3. Walking Preston Guild Wheel and Brockholes Reserve.

Making use of local buses we were able to walk a segment of the Guild Wheel. As we walked down the road to the Crematorium I think Mel had his doubts but we were soon into woodland above the Ribble. Next was the extensive Brockholes Reserve, created from worked out sand pits which has become a local favourite since opening four years ago. We didn’t have time for a full exploration but made use of the ‘floating’ visitor centre for a cup of coffee overlooking the lake and reed-beds. A coot was feeding directly in front of us and proved difficult to photo in half dive. I will have to return here more often this winter to appreciate the wildlife and visit the hides. Up to now we had seen few people but from now on there was a steady stream of cyclists using the path in both directions and enjoying the sunny weather. Level walking alongside the River Ribble and on into the outskirts of Preston. Avenham and Miller Parks have been much improved in recent years and are a credit to the town. Cyclists were flocking to the new pavilion for sustenance. We just kept walking and were soon into the regenerated Docklands area. The Marina cafe served good coffee and we called it a day catching a bus up to town and then one back to our starting point. I’ve ridden the 21miles of the Guild Wheel several times but now realise how easy it is to walk segments using the radial buses, you certainly see more walking.

Oh Happy Day – Hutton Roof Climbing.

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Why don’t you click to play whilst reading –

This was the summer we never had. Perfect blue skies, warm sunshine and no wind. Since my last trip to climb in the lakes I’ve been busy helping my son with his garden and pretending to do a bit of bouldering up at Craig Y Longridge, subsequently I’m knackered. But arrangements were made and we found ourselves parked up in the hamlet of Hutton Roof, remarking on the number of renovated cottages. The path up to the crags above the village seemed longer than we remembered – don’t they all. The bracken was high and the ways not clear, one of our party spent an hour or so wandering the hillside looking for the rocks. By then Rod and I, having bypassed the difficult South America Wall, had soloed a dozen or so short routes in sectors Cave and the recently cleaned Sunny Wall. The climbing here is more soloing than true bouldering, and that was the order of the day. The rock is remarkable limestone with abundant jugs and water-worn pockets just asking to be climbed, as the photos show. Alan turned up with his own video crew [father-in-law] and set too with enthusiasm [first time out for awhile]. A group of other climbers were leading some of the longer climbs on Sector Ronson Kirkby and when Barry eventually emerged from the jungle I led him up some of these. Everyone was enjoying the sunshine and the relaxed ambience – this was a magic day’s climbing and socialising. Simple pleasures.

Barry is in there somewhere.

South America Wall.

Rod – Cave area.

Alan – Ronson Kirkby.

The popular Ronson Kirkby Area.

Barry – the lost man of Borneo.

Little How Crag.

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Have you seen the forecast – dry, sunny, warmish and no wind, though as you will see from the pictures it didn’t live up to its promise.This is the end of September in the Lakes. So I put into plan a trip I’ve been hatching all this variable summer. Friend Alan had been climbing here earlier in the year in poor conditions but still raved about the quality of the rock. Rod and I had never climbed at Little How Crag in 50 years of Lakeland exploration and this was the weekend to put things right. We managed to find our way up Walna Scar Road to the parking spot above the fell gate but were surprised by the sheer number of parked cars. We seemed to remember from our last trip to Dow Crag only a few rough parking places, today it was more like Asda’s carpark. Coniston Old Man must be inundated. The clouds were still low as we picked up the track leading to Levers Water and soon left the crowds behind. The whole area is full of mines, slate and copper, and numerous risky sites are fenced off. We passed the stream coming down from the high Small Water combe under Coniston Old Man and on through Boulder valley. Once level with Levers Water the misty clouds lifted partially to reveal our crag 300ft up the hillside. Despite being ‘fit’ from my recent Stubai Walk I found the last steep bit trying. Though soon we were unpacking at the base of a lovely sweep of rock which looked mainly dry. Geared up I set off on the start of Sunshine Arête despite the lack of sunshine – the first few feet seemed rather tricky for a Diff!

Photo – Andrew.Thompson

After that it was a romp up easy angled slabs on perfect rough rock.A traversing last pitch had me wandering upwards to find a belay. We had to scramble up a hundred feet more before we could access the steep descent gully. Whilst we were contemplating a slippy down climb into the gully we spotted an abseil point on a spike of rock – it looked fairly solid so we used it for a good section of the said gully.

Abseiling the slippy gully.

More down climbing and traversing brought us back to the sacs. Yachts laboured on Coniston Water far below and a few walkers descended Levers Hawse to our right. Refuelled Rod soon made quick progress up the immaculate rock of more interesting Thunder Slab HS with a direct finish. We used the same way off and called it a day, 5pm. The evenings walk back was a delight in the low sunshine. Trickles of backpackers went past us up to some lovely spots in the hills, I felt quite envious.

Wetherlam above Levers Water.

Nonetheless we were glad to arrive back at the car. Several other parties were coming down from Dow Crag and we contemplated on our more isolated venue. A couple of easy routes on perfect rock on a little visited crag but with a highly traditional feel.

Stubaier Höhenweg XII – Postscript.

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If you have read my last few posts about the ‘Stubai Rucksack Route’ [Stubaier Höhenweg] you will realise how enjoyable hut to hut walking in Austria is. The area is so walker friendly – ease of access, good maps, signed and waymarked paths, superb alpine scenery, excellent friendly huts providing good food and drink, English spoken everywhere …… I have no reason to doubt that the other Austrian Alpine areas are as good, I will try somewhere different next year. There are many suitable guide books available Cicerone and Rother for starters. Just give it a try.

In my first post regarding preparations I discussed the problems my feet were causing. I’d gone out and bought a new pair of Hi-Tech Eurotrek boots, cheap and light. These proved comfortable from the first day and I had no further blister problems. They were more than adequate for the rough terrain and seemed waterproof. At the end of 10 days walking there was minimal sign of wear on the treads, though with previous pairs I’ve found this is their weak-point.

My other purchase was a cheap light Peter Storm waterproof jacket. We only had one afternoon of rain in the whole trip and the jacket was only worn then. It proved to be totally waterproof but suffered from mild breathability problems that I can live with. So £20 well spent though again I wonder about longer term durability. I will provide an update on both boots and jacket in three months.

Now back home after an excellent night in Innsbruck – recommend The Golden Krone Hotel and the the nearby Steiglbrau restaurant. Despite the palpable influx of immigrants into Austria and Germany our return rail travel went well, with time for a meal in Munich before a smooth Easyjet flight to Manchester. The evenings have become noticeably darker and the dry weather distinctly Autumnal. Where to next?

The sky is clear tonight with a large bright moon shining into my bedroom. Setting the alarm for 3am to hopefully view the moon’s eclipse.

PPS When in the Austrian Huts don’t forget — — or male or female.

Stubaier Höhenweg XI – a fitting finale.

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Adolf-Pichler – Starkenburger Hut – Fulpmes.

An early start for what would be a long day if we wanted to get out of the mountains today. This was helped by the breakfast being only a few slices of bread with cheese – no need to linger. The route up to the Seejochl 600m above was obvious from the hut door and didn’t take us too long. The sun was just coming over the limestone pinnacles as we reached it and a herd of chamois grazed across the scree slopes. There were great views back to the A-P hut and beyond. We passed under some impressive limestone buttresses.

Looking back to the A-P hut, Innsbruck and beyond.

The traverse across the scree below Schlicker Seespitz was exciting and more suited to chamois than walkers. We were rewarded with great views up the Oberbergtal valley to the Franz Senn hut and beyond, the previous days’ routes being obvious. Magnificent scenery. Then in front of us was the Starkenburger Hut with the familiar Habicht behind. We had come full circle. Time for a coffee on the terrace of the Starkenburger and a decision on the way down to the valley. Straight down to Neustift 1300m below…

No thanks!

… or a more leisurely descent to Fulpmes. The latter won out and we enjoyed the easy if longer way for two reasons. One – we arrived at Galtalm just in time for lunch and enjoyed a perfect rosti with eggs and a beer sat in the sunshine on their terrace with views to match and Two – not much further on we came across a working ski lift which had us down into the valley in no time. Fulpmes was a typical ski resort but we didn’t have to wait long for a bus into Innsbruck. What service.

Stubaier Höhenweg X – Adolf who?

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Potsdamer – Adolf-Pichler Hut.

Mist in the valley below the Potsdamer Hut.

Had to remind the pieman to go careful with the war jokes. Our plans to scale the Schwarzhorn en-route to the Starkenburger Hut were dampened, literally, by low cloud. The hut warden suggested going to the Adolf-Pichler hut instead with the option to continue to the Starkenburger. We clung to a hillside in the mist and worked our way up to a col which seemed to give easy access to the A-P. If we had studied the map more carefully we would have noticed the scale of the area and the size of the intervening valley. We imagined various routes through the hills that didn’t really exist, just be content and follow your red and white waymarks. There is no such thing as a short day here. You have left the big mountains behind and this region borders onto the limestone. We had great views of the ‘dolomitic’ Kalkkögel range. After losing all our height we were cheered by the lovely path heading up again – a true balcony path amongst rocks and low trees with strange bits of steps. There were views down to Innsbruck now much closer. At the next col the A-P hut appeared tucked away below the limestone cliffs and was soon reached. Despite our early arrival thoughts of continuing evaporated as instead we tucked into cheese dumpling soup and chatted to the friendly young staff. The dining room was warm and welcoming with its ceramic stove, the Kachelofen, and a good library to while away the afternoon. We failed that evening to finish the bergsteigeressen of dumplings – may not want to see another for some time.

Stubaier Höhenweg IX – a pleasant diversion.

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Franz Senn – Potsdamer Hut.

Leaving the Franz Senn behind.

We had a day to spare in the mountains so rather than go straight to the Starkenburger Hut we planned an extra night en route at the Potsdamer north of the Wildkopf. There were plenty of choices. The morning was dull and misty but still dry as we left on the well marked Hohenweg which traversed high across the steep north side of the Oberberg valley. Chamois wee spotted high above us. In parts the path was narrow and shaly above long drops and cables were encountered several times so it took us longer than we thought to reach the small Hochseduckalm.

Spot the path – top right.

A bench here was an ideal snack stop, there was no one about and slowly the cloud enveloped us. Cursory glances at the signs sent us along the wrong path in the mist for a few hundred metres until we realised we weren’t climbing and a compass bearing sent us back to the hut to start again. This time it was straight up to the col at 2599m which we achieved in good time. There were no views to linger for so it was straight down the north side on slippery rock, the mica schist glistening with moisture. By now it was raining with thunder in the air so we didn’t stop till we were well down the corrie 500m below. Our sandwich stop there was fairly miserable …

Glum pieman and rockman.

… and we tramped on down an impressive valley, the Potsdamer Hut only coming into view at the last minute. We soon dried out over ‘teewasser’ This was a great little hut with lots of character and a friendly warden. It was quite busy as it is on another hut -to-hut circuit of the Sellrain area. We plotted various routes for tomorrow dependent on the weather.

Stubaier Höhenweg VIII – the stony wastes.

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Neue Regensburger – Franz Senn Hut.

A sea of stones en-route.

Yet another bright sunny morning though Autumn has arrived and there is a heavy dew. We were off on a short traverse across the hillside with great views back to the Resenburger. Then it was straight up to the Schrimmennieder pass at 2705m. All around were unstable stones and the path looped through them, I found the going tough and couldn’t sort my breathing. Two steps up one step down territory.Arrived at the pass just as H and B set off to climb an adjacent summit, Besslerjoch. I left them to it and relaxed. Chatted to two German lads coming through, they had studied in Liverpool and we reminisced over some good scouse pubs. The way down the other side was extremely stony and hostile. Several areas have been devastated by avalanches and the route takes a circuitous line to avoid the worst, thankfully well marked with red and white. Even so it was endlessly hard going and one was very aware of the need not to slip or trip. Even when we were out of the steepest sections the path traversing a large couloir went on for ever. The forecast had predicted rain and the day was darkening. Rounding a bluff the hut was in sight and we broke into a gentle trot to arrive before the rain hit us.The Franz Senn Hut is massive and well equipped. Strangely it was the first Austrian Alpine Club owned one we had used. A large restaurant was welcoming and we were booked into a room with Gunter who must have thought of us as strange English. He was on an Alpine training course along with scores of others who filled the hut, the drying room was particularly busy as they came off the mountains with all their kit.

Aspiring Alpinists.

Some colour in the stony wastes.

Stubaier Höhenweg VII – the easy way.

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Up to the Neue Regensburger Hut.

A quick down to start the day.

There was no change of mind so we were whisked down the hill in the ski lift and onto the valley bus to be dropped at Falbeson. We went straight to the Waldcafe for a coffee and information on the luggage lift to the Regensburger. The owner was the cable supervisor at this lower end and arranged for us to send up our sacks. Whilst sorting mine I realised that my waterproofs were missing, a phone call to the Dresdner and they were found in our room!! How could I be so stupid. I was preparing to go back up for them when the barman said he could arrange for them to be sent down on the ski lift, popped on the bus to here and he would send them up. I was doubtful if this would work but he reassured me and sent us on our way, no load on my back but a heavy load in my heart worrying about the waterproofs.

There was an initial steep zigzagging section up through the woods which just had to be taken steadily in the heat. Near the top I picked up a bright bandana meaning to leave it at the hut. There were lots of day walkers using the track and stopping at a delightful cafe in an alp halfway up – we did the same and enjoyed a fresh elderflower drink. We had views down the valley to the prominent Habicht and up to the Regensburger hut. The route then started to climb again in earnest up to the Hut perched on the edge of the cliff. The luggage box wound its way on the cable above us with our rucksacks and hopefully my waterproofs. On the way down was an attractive lass who enquired if we had seen a bandana and when I produced it from my pocket I was rewarded with hugs and kisses – the day was improving!

The hut was in a spectacular position on the edge and as the day was perfect the terrace was packed with diners and drinkers. Most went down to the valley later, though the hut remained busy with a lively crowd up for the weekend. Our sacks were there but no sign of my waterproofs yet, I thought the plan had backfired. We strolled up the valley towards the infamous col but it was too far to make out the conditions. The valley itself had many roches moutonnées and a silted in glacial lake. As we arrived back at the hut another delivery was coming up and this time there were my waterproofs, a celebratory drink followed.

The hut dog.

A packed boot room.

My waterproofs arriving.

Quite an eventful day. Thank you Waldcafe.

Stubaier Höhenweg VI – more and more moraine.

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Sulzenau Hut – Dresdner Hut.

The breakfasts are getting better – muesli with yoghurt and boiled eggs as well as the usual bread and cheese. It seems to be normal to make a sandwich or two for the day ahead. We seem to be getting fitter and were up the valley in no time taking the higher route which crossed a rock buttress on unique metal planks.The path now followed the lateral moraine of the Sulzenau Ferner glacial system with close up views of the snout and lake. The mountain in the background is the 3500m Zuckerhuetl which the rockman had climbed aged 16yrs whilst on an Alpine Climbing Course he had enrolled himself onto. On the same trip his guide had fallen and broken his leg leaving the16yr old to help with a rescue – baptism of fire. We trod carefully on the steep rocky slope leading to Peiljoch not wanting a repeat occurrence. This col was a strange eerie place with a multitude of stone cairns more reminiscent of the Himalayas than Austria. There was no obvious reason for these apart from the abundance of flat stones. It was a nice place to sit around for awhile in the sun enjoying the views of the glaciers and onwards to the next hut in the vast Gamsgarten cirque with unfortunately all the associated ski and gondola construction work.Our way down all the stones was interesting, someone over the years has used them to ‘pave’ a path through the chaos. Eventually we walked along an airy rocky ridge with dramatic views down to the Dresdner Hut and then it was onto endless moraine debris again.The Dresdner was a large modern building, more like a hotel than a hut and being adjacent to the gondola stations coming up from the valley and going to the top of the Stubaier Wildspitze was busy with day trippers. We considered a trip to the top but clouds were coming in so we just relaxed in the sun over soup and radlers.We were allotted a room already partly occupied with only the awkward top bunks free but playing the ‘bad back’ card managed to swap to a smaller room. Much cosier – we are getting soft.The restaurant was a large self service affair and we enjoyed yet another good filling meal. We met the only Brit we had encountered on the trip – a tough Glaswegian trekking with an oriental lady, an odd couple. Chatting to other walkers there was talk of a difficult high icy col and glacier crossing en-route to the next hut, Neue Regensburger. This was already going to be an 8 hour day with the potential problems well into the day with no easy retreat or return. Others were opting out and the hut warden thought it a very long hard day [looking us up and down!] so over a few beers we too came up with plan B. Simple really – go down on the cable car, catch a bus down the valley and then walk directly up to the hut.

Stubaier Höhenweg V – another ‘short’ day.

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Nuernburger Hut – Sulzenau Hut.

First thing we were above a sea of clouds. Then yet another blue skied day encouraged us to linger over breakfast. The rockman was trying to hammer out the blister-inducing ridge in the heel of his right boot. We chatted to two Dutchmen out for a couple of days. Most walkers were German, understandable considering the ease of access. The guide book gives this stage as 4K and yet states 3-4 hours so you can imagine the terrain. We took 5hrs with stops etc. It also suggests 400m of ascent which is misleading and was actually measured as 550m by my altimeter, this is a recurrent fault everyday as we usually climb 30% more than expected.You could see the wooden cross on the Niederl pass 400m above the hut. [click to enlarge] All we had to do was plod up.Once there time was spent photographing and relaxing on a wooden bench next to the cross.A group of excited kids came up the cables with a guide, it was their first ‘summit’ and let’s hope it ignited a passion for the hills. There were excellent views of the Wilder Freiger and back to the Feuerstein, as well as steeply down into the next valley and its lakes.Initially we dropped straight down a cliff face on cables and then zigzagged steeply into the cirque and its turquoise lakes. The glacial moraines were set out before us like a geology lesson, of course the rockman interpreted all the features for us.

The steep drop with the Sulzenau Hut in the distance.

We weaved our way through bouldery grazing land where the shepherds were bringing down the flop eared flock before the Autumn snows. Crossing a summer plank bridge held up by an acrow prop we reached the modern clean Sulzenau Hut owned by the German Leipzig club.This coming weekend the Sektion Leipzig were having their annual meet at the hut and they were not taking bookings, this was the reason for our changed schedule. Even tonight the hut is busy and some of the members are arriving early – it will be a jolly party. The hut girls were very friendly and helpful but the guardian himself was a bit surly, maybe he had a lot on his mind. Having arrived early we enjoyed a creamy noodle soup and a Radler [Shandy made with real lemonade – delicious] We had our own room with a view but getting in and out of bunks isn’t easy at our age!