Killin' for Munros...

Munro bagging is indeed a strange pursuit. However it's appeal is incredible. Having not been out on a big ticking mission in a while, the prospect of a sneaky last minute trip to the Killin Hills in fine summer weather was very appealing.

The fine warm weather that had prevailed in Lancaster for the previous week promised to hold through the weekend so it was following a frantic packing session on Thursday evening, I was all set and stoked for another LUHC weekend in the north. The campsite at Cruachan Farm lived up to good expectations of comfortable toilet blocks with hot showers. Our reserved area was on a rather sloped section of the field, however it mattered not as it meant we were could spread out over a wide area, well away from any potential interruptions from late night BBQ's or snoring. 

The dome shaped Carn Gorm, 1020 m.

Saturday's bagging excursion saw myself, Imogen, Lorna and Mouse getting dropped off in a lush and green Glen Lyon at the small settlement of Invervar. We were sharp out of the blocks and soon found ourselves well above the forested valley pounding up the beautifully grassy slopes of Carn Gorm. We remarked at the novelty of finding ourselves on a reasonable path on the ascent which (for Scotland) made short work of the 800 or so meters to bring us to the summit of the first hill of the day; Carn Gorm, a fine concentric dome of a summit with great views of the west highlands, Rannoch Moor and Cairngorms to the east. The route following took in a collection of Tops and 3 further munros. With the weather being so fine, we took a leisurely stroll from one to the next with Mouse taking time for all important quick kips on some of the summits - 'it's surprising how comfortable lying down among the boulders of a Cairn can be'! Our descent from Meall na Aighan, the final Munro for the day was an efficient trot down a fine nose down into the wooded waters of the Ivervar Burn. Given that we had completed our round of the hills around 2 hours quicker than expected, we had time to kill prior to our minibus pickup. Finding a picturesque deep pool in the Burn, we took time out, and I took the opportunity for a refreshing plunge in the pool. For our return journey to the campsite, we were treated by chauffeur Ivar to a trip up over the Tarmachan road weaving up and down steeply among the high hills of the Ben Lawers range. 

Taking the plunge in the Invervar Burn. 

Saturday evening turned out rather damp and still on the campsite. This brought the midges out. We had come well prepared given the time of year and after all the cold weather of the spring, they were certainly far from their worst. 

After a clearing of the sky by the end of Saturday evening, it was a rather cloudy start to Sunday morning. There were signs of brightness around, and we knew the sun must be streaming down elsewhere in Scotland so it wouldn't be long before the mist gave way to clear blue skies. It was up and over the Tarmachan road once again, this time dipping into the cloud briefly at the top of the cloud, as we headed over into Glen Lyon. We were off to the dam at the end of Loch Daimph for a quick 'bag' of Stuc an Lochain. The cloud wafted around, with the sun making its best efforts to create a clear view for us as we rounded the corrie rim to the summit. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be until we were well on descent back down to Loch Daimph that the skies did their magic and the sunglasses once again came out of the rucksack top pocket.

Going Full Wharch (whack) in Galloway...

Scotland with the LUHC is usually some sort of cold, dark epic. A springtime trip to the Galloway hills however is usually somewhat different. Firstly it's only 3.5 hours on a minibus and secondly, it involves lots of daylight! We arrived at the Glentrool Campsite in rather damp conditions, but luckily got our tents up in the dry. The House O'Hill Inn provided fine refreshment and warmth, it was set to be a rather chilly Mayday bank holiday weekend.

On Saturday morning, the majority of us set off early-ish for the end of the Glentrool road where the Bruce's Stone stands high and proud above Loch Trool. We were aiming for a round of the 'Full Wharch' (wack); our walk had been proudly named by Andy in the pub the night before. Anyway, it became a more and more appropriate name for the walk as the day went on, given the 23 odd kilometres involved and optional 'bag' of Mullwharchar itself midway through the walk. The terrain of the Galloway hills away from the main 'tourist route' up the Merrick is incredibly rough and 'ard going. It makes skipping along the Cairngorm plateau in rock hard winter snow seem like a jolly by comparison. The day provided some spectacular clear panoramic views with a brisk westerly wind. We finished our round of the summits on Craignaw followed by a knee-jerking descent through a mixture of thick heather and saturated ground back down to Bruce's Stone.

On ascent of the Merrick.

Having brought wetsuits on the trip, myself and Imogen had been hoping for a bit of sunshine on the Sunday as we headed out to the Galloway coast at the fishing village of Portpatrick. Things looked promising at first and the sun tried its best to burn through the whispy cloud, being carried by a fresh westerly. However, given that we were still clad in thick fleeces for our morning stroll along the coastal path to Dunskey Castle, that afternoon dip was looking less and less likely by the minute. We returned to Portpatrick after lunch on a small rocky cove in the shadow of the derelict castle and contemplated our plans for the afternoon. After a bit of alpine style dyno-ing on the rocks beyond the harbour wall, the default choice seemed to be to head north along the coast towards Killantringan bay. By the time we reached the sweeping sands of the bay which lies around 5 km north of Portpatrick along the coastal path, the chance of swimming was long gone. The cloud had thickened and a touch test of the water on the beach revealed the temperature was officially still Baltic-esque. No good; our wetsuits were on the minibus. Instead we kept ourselves warm and entertained undertaking the miniature engineering feat of daming a stream.

The sun trying its best to break through the cloud on the Galloway Coast. Castle Bay with the ruin of Dunskey Castle standing on the headland to the rear.

For Monday morning, we could have done with our wetsuits on to negotiate the thick mist that shrouded the campsite. After spending a while contemplating our motivation to leave the campsite, we took the minibus once again down to the car park at Mr Bruce's lump of rock aside Loch Trool. Some were brave enough to head off up onto the mysterious and mist shrouded moorland of Craiglee, whilst the majority of us opted for a pleasant downhill trudge through the forests bounding the south side of Loch Trool. The moist conditions added a hint of atmosphere to the heroic tales of battle betwem English and Scots depicted on various information boards on the forest trail. Following the Southern Upland Way beyond the western end of the Loch, we were now following the Water of Trool westwards towards the campsite. The vegetation had also changed from coniferous plantation to a more natural mix of broadleaf species following a significant woodland restoration project. Whilst still very much juvenile, there were already signs of a thriving ecosystem re-establishing itself in the landscape. As we had walked almost continuously downstream from Loch Trool, we were able to walk right back to the campsite and take some time out for a leisurely lunch before the moorland baggers turned up. 

Even by mid afternoon, as we pulled away to the east from Castle Douglas, the mist and drizzle had still not managed to peel back from the Galloway hills! However, our journey became progressively brighter as we skirted around the Solway Firth. We cruised over Shap Moor and down into the Lune valley under clear blue skies and nice warm air.

Three Lakeland Valleys, Sunday 3 March

So Sunday was an interesting one! A 30km walk in Lakeland, taking in 3 valleys and nearly 1000m of ascent, but no summits...

The walk began at the Wasdale Head campsite. Myself, Imogen and Lorna had stayed overnight following the trip up from Kendal the night before. It was a fine spring-like start to the day, with bright sunshine pouring into the amphitheatre like surround of peaks at Wasdale. I was soon on ascent up towards the high, barren ground between Illgill Head and Scafell, pounding up the bridle way, down to just a t-shirt and wondering why I'd packed a bag full of winter clothing! After passing by Burnmoor Tarn, I was soon on descent into Eskdale and the Dalegarth terminus of the L'al Ratty (Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway). Unfortunately, no trains were to be had for me today, but I was pleased to stroll into the car park at 10:30 and meet Andy, who had just himself arrived from Whitehaven. The two of us had a good catch up in the sunshine whilst awaiting the arrival of the LUHC minibus from Lancaster. It was a good rest for me waiting for all the walks to be announced and officialdoms of pink sheets to be filled out. I decided to join one of the hiking groups heading for Harter Fell in order to continue on my quest to reach the third valley. It was a fine walk through the wooded valley following the River Esk upstream. After Whahouse Bridge, it was down to just Jim and myself for the start of the long-haul up onto Great Moss. This was to be my first visit to one of England's largest bogs, and a fine time to do it as there had been very little rain for the past two weeks so underfoot it was probably about as dry as it gets. Surrounded on all sides by Lakeland's highest and craggiest peaks, the Moss is a spectacularly grandiose setting, bounded with the fine rock scenery of the Scafell range to the north. Just after Cam Spout Crag, Jim headed off up How Beck towards Scafell, whilst I continued the gradual easterly romp across the Moss until I reached the very upper reaches of the River Esk. I followed this through an exciting, part snow filled, canyon like feature until the beck was no more and I emerged triumphantly onto Esk Hause, the highest point for the day! Unfortunately by this time, the cloud cover had increased to a blanket greyness, and it was quite cold in the brisk wind, so I didn't hang around. With 1 hour 25 minutes to go until the early bus from Seatoller, the prospect of a cup of tea in Keswick got me going downhill at a brisk rate. I was heading for Grains Gill and Seathwaite via the direct route from Esk Hause (not Ruddy Gill). This provided the excitement of a steep snow bank, which made the carrying of the ice axe and crampons worthwhile as I was able to get the metal out and descend in speed and style!
Upon reaching the flat part of Borrowdale at Stockley Bridge, and with about 25 minutes to go until that early bus, it seemed unlikely that I'd cover the remaining 3km without some sort of mad sprint. With around 2km on Tarmac ahead, this did not seem appealing, so I slowed to a more leisurely pace and enjoyed the Borrowdale scenery along to Seatoller. The later and indeed last bus turned up on time and I was able to sit back and enjoy a very smooth trip back to Lancaster via Keswick and a quiet Pendolino from Penrith.

A fine day in Lakeland, whoever said it was all about getting to the summits?

Up towards Scafell and Scafell Pike from Wasdale

Great Moss and surrounding hills, looking east

The headwaters of the River Esk

Braemar & the Southern Cairngorms, 23-24 Feb 2013

What an outstanding weekend! Club trips to Braemar always install an excitement for adventurous backpacking trips out into the wild southern Cairngorms and this one was to be no exception! After a surprisingly comfortable wild camp at the Linn of Dee on Friday night, we were well prepared for the long walk to the high mountains along Glen Lui and Glen Derry on Saturday. The four of us (Sam, Lorna, Imogen and myself) had set our sights on a two day mission to the Hutchinson Memorial Hut high in Coire Etchachan, although we weren't bargaining on floor space in the bothy so carried our tents with us. It was a spectacular 13km walk in along the Glens, gradually rising through increasing neve-like snow cover to 700m up at the Bothy. We arrived at the Bothy just in time for a decent lunch break, and shared experiences over our lunch with a Royal Marines member (not on duty) who had spent the morning walking over Ben Macdui from Corrour Bothy. After lunch, we off-loaded most of our heavy gear for the camping and set off up the steep northern slopes of Derry Cairngorm. The first bit out of Coire Etchachan provided some interest in it's steepness, although we were soon up onto the vast gradually rising upper slopes. The views from Derry Cairngorm were spectacular, with the sun coming out across much of the hills to the South. After Derry Cairngorm, we decided to head north and then west up to the summit of Ben Macdui. It was a fairly long haul up to the summit, which was unfortunately cloud covered. Our decent back down to Hutchinson Memorial hut via the completely snow-covered Loch Etchachan was fairly rapid on the hard snow, although it was just breaking dark when we arrived back into the corrie. Given the temperatures, we didn't hang around long and cooked a quick meal on our stoves before retreating to the tents for an early night. The moon was out as the sky had mostly cleared through, so I managed to grab a few nice night-time shots on my camera through experimenting with the long-exposure setting! Sleeping was no problem as we were all pretty tired.

On Sunday morning, we decided not to proceed with our option of bagging Beinn Mheadhoin as the cloud had dropped down and we were not feeling up to another strenuous day. So after a leisurely start, we set off back down Glen Derry towards Derry Lodge and the Linn of Dee. It cleared through the morning and early afternoon and there was a feel of spring in the air as we dropped away from snow clad upper slopes and into the more forested sections of the Glens. I was pleased to see plenty of young Scotch Pines attempting to gain a foothold in Glen Derry, in some places aided by tree guards and deer fencing. I pondered optimistically over how the Glen might look in 20 years time if the pines manage to grow to maturity and recreate more expansive stands of beautiful Caledonian forest that once covered much of the Scottish Glens and Moors. We arrived back at the Linn of Dee around an hour ahead of schedule, which was nice as we could enjoy a cup of tea and a chat in the sunshine with those who had done walks and climbs at Lochnagar the previous day. We were on our way from Braemar by late afternoon which meant we were able to enjoy all the mountains through the Glenshee area in daylight, followed by sunset over the hills of the West Highlands as we headed south around Perth and on to Stirling.

A fine winter weekend in Braemar once again and thanks to all involved for making it an enjoyable trip.

On ascent to the Hutchinson Memorial hut passing through the lower slopes of Glen Derry.

Approaching Ben Macdui Summit in 'bright mist'

Wild Camping spot in Coire Etchachan

Sunday's walk back to Linn of Dee... downhill all the way in the sunshine!

The Northern Lights...

So last one in NZ for a bit before heading up North for a bit more winter. Spring is trying to push into summer here and the rugby posts are down and its now all about cricket on the local sports ground! The exam time is over, but last week was a not to be missed opportunity to head out into the depths of the North Island for some exploring. Here is what happened on the little circuit:

The Steam excursion at Dannevirke

Tuesday 23 November left Wellington for Napier, however the first challenge was walking down to the rail station to pick up the InterCity Coach - a strong northeasterly was about and I think it beats even the winds of Geal Charn and Fionn Beinn two most ‘fine munros’ which have been bagged on two particularly miserable end of LUHC winter trip days! The Wellingtonians heading to work found themselves blasted along the cavernous streets at high speed! The weather became even worse once we crossed onto the Wairarapa and headed for the East Cape and upon arriving at Dannevirke (a New Zealand settlement with Danish roots) we advised that the state highway to Napier was closed. This gave a fine opportunity to experience smalltown NZ, however I was distracted by the smell of a coal fire on the wind and headed to the station. Here I was greeted by a steam loco in with a excursion train. The line out to the East Cape is of course now closed to passenger traffic, the once ‘Bay Express’ (Wellinton-Gisbourne) being victim of the 2002 massacre! However the odd steam special heads out, this one awaiting to pass a freight train. After some waiting in Dannevirke, it was decided to head back to Palmerston North and wait for the wind to ease and hopefully get through on the later coach. The waiting paid off and we made it through on the later coach and arrived in sunny, mediterranean Napier early evening.

Art Deco Napier, complete with palm trees and clear blue sky

Napier is New Zealand’s ‘Art Deco’ city and is an important sea port. An earthquake in 1936 flattened the old town and altered the terrain - requiring a complete new build, hence the colourful collection of modernist Art Deco style buildings. The seafront sports a fine assortment of palm trees emphasising the fact that this is one of the warmest parts of New Zealand, being out on the east cape sheltered by from the rain by the North Island’s mountain spine. Although not as pronounced or well known as the ‘Alps’ of South Island, there is a near continuous frontal range of 1000-2000m peaks running parallel to the pacific-Australasian plate boundary, this having always formed a barrier to communication with the Eastern parts of the Island. It was time for shorts and t-shirt, suncream, the works in a very tolerable 25C, unfortunately the beach was not quite safe for a dip with a steep shingle bank and strong rip! Wednesday afternoon it was back on InterCity for the journey inland through first through the Hawkes Bay wineries and then cutting inland through Eskdale - without a L’al Ratty!

The destination was Taupo, up on the North Island volcanic plateau on the shores of the great caldera of Lake Taupo. This really is active Earth with hotsprings, geysers and smoking vents. Also the great Waikato River drains from lake Taupo - NZ’s longest. After heading out along the riverbank of the Waikato River for a little jog, I came to the Huka Falls where the full force of the river is channeled through a narrow chute of resistant rock. From here it was only a short detour to the ‘Craters of the Moon’, an area of smoking vents that formed recently as a result of a the construction of a geothermal power station down the valley - this having altered the works underground. Unfortunately by the time I got up there, they were closed so I only got to peer in from the edge. Instead I headed back towards Taupo, stopping off for a soaking at a thermal stream that plunged down into the Waikato River, rather exciting in the evening sun, whilst watching some kiwi nutters doing backflips of a bridge into the river!

Thermal Stream at Taupo

Thursday was time for a fairly long stint on InterCity to the City of Sails, Auckland! The Waikato region leading into Hamilton being very Devon like with rolling green hills, plenty of dairy farms - with the addition of the odd extinct volcano or volcanic neck protruding rather unexpectedly from the terrain. From Hamilton its a two hour run into Auckland and the state highway even becomes a motorway for parts of the way! This is New Zealand’s population centre with just over a million people living in the Greater Auckland region. Thats larger than the entire South Island, the population of which, was announced to have just tipped the million mark this year! Disregarding the city buzz and skyscrapers of downtown, Auckland is quite a baby city by global standards, the centre can easily be done on foot, and the complex array of tidal inlets restrict the centre to a thin strip of land between the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean. From the downtown quay, ferries fan out to various suburbs across the Waimata Harbour including some of the islands of the Hauraki Gulf. Friday I picked up a city transport rover ticket which includes the ferries and headed out to some of the suburbs to bag as many of the little extinct volcanic cones as possible. Firstly heading across the harbour to Devonport with great views back to the city from Mt Victoria and North Head - both former fortifications. Then it was a ride over the Harbour Bridge on the bus and time to head out to the south on the suburban railway to One Tree Hill, a little country park amongst the vast sprawl of outer Auckland. The centrepiece of the Auckland Skyline is the Sky Tower, constructed for the Millennium. Friday evening I popped back across the Devonport on the ferry to see the city lights from the Mt Victoria viewpoint.

Downtown Auckland from Devonport Beach


The lights of Downtown Auckland including the pink Sky Tower from Mt Victoria above Devonport

Saturday was another day of sun for heading out to the 600 year old Rangitoto Island, the most recent of the basalt cones forming a perfect ring shaped island in the Hauraki Gulf. There are a number of tracks on the Island leading to the points of interest, the island has a fairly young and limited vegetation cover as well as vast open patches of broken basalt lava. The summit crater is the high point and a track leads the day-trippers up to the rim. the island is riddled with tunnels but those most accessible lie along the ‘lava tunnels track’, where there are many fine tunnels heading off the beaten track to be explored with a headtorch. Although the sea looked very inviting in the sunshine, it was low tide, exposing thick mud at the otherwise sandy beaches. Saturday night the plan was to head up the Sky Tower, however a monsoon came in and so was confined to a brewery/ pub.

Ragitoto Island - looking up at the summit crater, with broken basalt in the foreground

One of the lava tunnels on Rangitoto Island

Sunday was time to head back to Wellington, but the trip was by no means over, for the 600km Overlander rail journey lay ahead. Running down the Main Trunk line through the centre of New Zealand from Auckland to Wellington - a journey which most Kiwis would make in an hour with Air New Zealand, we left the shiny new Britomart transport centre at 0730 for the 12 hour journey! Back through the rolling Waikato and up on to the Volcanic Plateau. After a chat with the driver at Hamilton I managed to grab myself a seat in the loco for the hour long assent from Taumarunui through the Tongariro National Park including the Rangotoi Spiral. This was definitely the highlight, although the Overlander also has a viewing lounge in back carriage with a big window looking out backwards.

The Overlander at National Park Station

After the final week in Wellington its back off to Auckland on the overnight InterCity Coach, and then for the NZ2 via Los Angeles will bring me into Heathrow on Tuesday 6 November. Just to finish off with - something that got me excited in the sidings just outside Auckland were some ex-UK Mark 2 coaches (don’t worry about the details) from Virgin and Anglia, as stacks of them were shipped over here when they finished their turns with XC on the West Coast and GE Mainline. Many of them have been completely gutted and churned out on the Wellington/ Auckland suburban routes, so we finish with a picture of a couple of them sat around de-bogied, awaiting a New Zealand lease of life!

Ex-Virgin Trains Mark 2's! The go faster red/ black is almost unreconisable with the scribbles, pehaps its a new livery - Branson Pickle!