A 2023 Summary

2023 got off to a promising start and I managed to have at least one day out in the first five months of the year; the best strike rate in over a decade.

But health issues within the family had to be dealt with and the impact on my ability to head for the hills was curtailment.  I didn't manage another walk for the rest of the year.

At the start of 2023 I had 239 summits on my own collated ticklist, mostly containing TRAIL 100 and Nuttall summits.

Overall I :

            went on             9                                  walks

            walked              53.9                              miles

            ascended          14,406                          feet

            walked for         38 hrs 33 mins            (including rest stops !)

            reached            11                                 individual summits that I hadn’t been to before

            reached            3                                   individual summits that I had been to before

            reached            8                                 summits on my combined ticklist

            reached            1                                   previously unclimbed TRAIL 100 summit

            reached            6                                 previously unclimbed Nuttall summits

            drove                1924                             miles on trips to and from walks

Most of this year's walking occurred in the Yorkshire Dales but the most significant summit of the year was Schiehallion.  Just 1 TRAIL 100 summit was ticked in this overall inactive year.

All of this meant that at the end of 2022, my ongoing ticklist dropped to 231 summits.

A 2022 Summary

2022 was a poor year for my walking.  Domestic circumstances hugely influenced my ability to find the time to go walking.

At the start of 2022 I had 255 summits on my own collated ticklist, mostly containing TRAIL 100 and Nuttall summits.

Overall I :

            went on             8                                  walks

            walked              58.2                              miles

            ascended          18,429                          feet

            walked for         46 hrs 34 mins            (including rest stops !)

            reached            22                                 individual summits that I hadn’t been to before

            reached            2                                   individual summits that I had been to before

            reached            16                                 summits on my combined ticklist

            reached            3                                   previously unclimbed TRAIL 100 summits

            reached            12                                 previously unclimbed Nuttall summits

            drove                1519                             miles on trips to and from walks

Most of this year's walking occurred in Eryri (Snowdonia) but the most significant summit of the year was Ben More overlooking Crianlarich.  3 TRAIL 100 and 2 ex-TRAIL 100 summits were ticked in this rather sparse year.

All of this meant that at the end of 2022, my ongoing ticklist dropped to 239 summits.

 

 

The Aughton Park Two

Aughton Park is my local railway station and from either the cutting where the tracks run, or the road bridge above at “ground” height, two hills can be seen.  To the south-west, the prominent summit in view is Moel Famau.  To the north-east, the rounded hill is Totridge, which rises above the village of Dunsop Bridge in the Forest of Bowland.

For some time, I thought that it would be an unusual day out to climb both of these.

From Bwlch Pen Barras, the amount of ascent required to reach Moel Famau is less than any other start point, with it being at an altitude of just over 350 metres.  The way up is obvious and on this summer’s day no navigational skills were required, with the summit tower being in sight for most of the way and the route was very popular with walkers of all ages, from babies being carried in slings or pushed in prams to the more senior in age.

Moel Famau trig point

towards Bwlch Pen Barras

After a couple of rests I reached the trig point, painted in Welsh colours, and then climbed one of the sets of steps to the tower top to take in the fullest view.  I left the summit to the masses and even taking with a leisurely walk up and a reasonable amount of time at the summit I managed the round trip in well under 2 hours.

Moel Famau tower

Moel Famau

The drive northwards, once off the M6, was through some wonderful countryside through Clitheroe, Newton and Dunsop Bridge to a car park just before Hareden, significantly less popular than the morning’s Welsh equivalent.

I walked through the farm and turned on to the bridleway leading over Riggs Plantation and up towards Mellor Knoll.  There wasn’t much of a clear path but the ground was well-shorn pasture and quite easy going under the sunny sky.  I followed the permissive path marked on the Ordnance Survey Explorer map which led to open access land and the steepening slope towards the summit.

There was a path, not always clear, that zig-zagged to the summit plateau before making its way through dry peat hags to the trig point.  I also made sure to stand on the highest hag marking the true summit of Totridge, just a few metres away.

Totridge summit

Totridge trig point

From the top, the Yorkshire Three Peaks could be seen and the view towards Pendle Hill was probably the most impressive.

Pendle Hill from Totridge

Totridge slopes

the final slope up to Totridge

Neither of the day’s summits were on my ticklist resulting in an alternative day out.  The objectives, combined for a single day, were esoteric and would not make much logical sense to the vast majority of walkers, but because of my own sense of the unusual, I managed to find an enjoyable and rewarding day out.

Goodbye to the Dales

At the start of this year I had six summits remaining on my ticklist that were in, or very close to the border of, the Yorkshire Dales.  My two previous walks had bagged four of those tops and the thought of doing the third walk appealed as its completion would mark a milestone in my bagging quest and I could move on to another area.

At a misty Lamps Moss layby I donned my boots on and reset my GPS primed before starting on the narrow path and over the limestone pavement leading to Dukerdale.  There was no clear path on the ground and a bit of meandering was needed until reaching a fingerpost at a track above Rollinson Gill.  Continuing eastwards over boggy ground and peat hags led upwards into thickening mist, heading to the plateau and on to White Mossy Hill.  I located the highpoint, marked by a couple of small embedded boulders.  Despite the poor visibility there was definitely no higher ground to create any doubt about where the summit was.

Following a track northwards I soon reached some flagstones, laid to combat erosion, and then the path junction at the county border marking the seasonal variations of the Coast-to-Coast path.

the Yorkshire - Cumbria boundary

The trig point is not quite the highest point of Nine Standards Rigg so I looked for the small cairn just to the south-east.  Although not technically within the Yorkshire Dales National Park, the Rigg was the last of my ticklist summits within the Yorkshire Dales area.

Nine Standards Rigg trig point

I moved on towards the toposcope commemorating the wedding of the (then) Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer, erected by the Kirkby Stephen Fell Search Team.

Nine Standards Rigg toposcope

But the highlight of the walk is at the northern end of the Rigg – the Nine Standards.  The still poor visibility didn’t detract from how impressive the cairns were and it is a place to linger to appreciate the stone artistry.  The possibility of a revisit, unlike many of the Dales’ summits, is very likely.

most of the Nine Standards

I dropped down to Rollinson Gill, trying my best to keep my feet dry and rejoined the path above the previously visited fingerpost before retracing my steps back to Lamps Moss.

Although I had completed my Dales ticklist, since I had previously visited Green Hill, an updated survey had “moved” the summit.  So, for the sake of accuracy, I drove down to Leck Fell, put on my boots again and started along the shooters’ track.  At the shooting hut, the track continues for a short while, before a cross-country ascent over rougher ground to reach the ridge.

I followed the wall to the “old” summit and the spot height before climbing over the wall to reach the “new” summit, now firmly situated in Yorkshire.  And now, my ticklist summits in the Dales had no ambiguity about whether I could claim them all.

Gragareth from Green Hill

Along the ridge to Gragareth was straightforward and just before the trig point I met a young man who was holding a Nuttalls guidebook.  He had visited the trig but I pointed out to him that the trig wasn’t the summit.  He headed for the small cairn marking the true highpoint and then waved over to me in thanks.  I touched the trig and made my way to the cairn before taking a beeline down to the Three Men of Gragareth, a group of three cairns now rivalled by a similar group just to the north.  A final descent over the screes to the lane completed my Yorkshire Dales walks.

Gragareth trig point

Three Imposters of Gragareth

Three Men of Gragareth

A Tan Hill Wilderness

I thought that an early start would get me to the Tan Hill Inn at a quiet time but I hadn’t anticipated that the inn’s nearby parking areas would be so popular with campervans as an overnighting location.

The terrain surrounding the inn, although obviously hilly moorland, is largely gently undulating, making navigating using landmarks quite challenging.  It’s easy to follow, as I did, obvious tracks that go in the rough direction, but I soon had to correct myself to follow, at least approximately, the bridleway marked on the OS map.  A narrow path didn’t exactly follow the printed right-of-way, but as it headed in the roughly correct direction, it was easier to follow it than to stick rigidly to the OS’s delineation.

As I followed the path the day could best be described so far as grey.  At an abandoned mineshaft, thankfully made safe by a sturdy metal frame embedded into a concrete base at its top, I had a brief rest before continuing over Mirk Fell Edge before dropping to William Gill and following the bridleway to Great Scollit Hill.  It was now time to turn southwards and follow a beeline towards Water Crag.

There were lots of recently mown rectangles of moorland that, although a bit boggy, made walking a little easier.  I linked these alongside a line of grouse butts and made my way over Backstone Band to the trig point.  I thought that the shelter to the east perhaps looked a little higher so I walked there and back to make sure that I had reached the highest point.

Water Crag trig point

Although only about 2 kilometres away, Rogan’s Seat looked distant.  I headed to the fence and started following it.  The ground underfoot wasn’t brilliant but it could have been a lot worse before I reached the bulldozed track, no doubt put in place to enable grouse shooters to more easily atrophy their leg muscles!

To be fair, it was a welcome change to walk along the track but it wasn’t long before I left it to make my way toward the obvious peat hag that is the summit of Rogan’s Seat.  A small cairn marked the top and was decorated by 5 white painted pebbles.  Each had a name and a year; the obvious family name being “Rogan”.

I’m not a fan of this personal memorialisation of mountains.  The Great Gable memorial plaque is a different thing; it honours those who fell for the nation.  “Leave No Trace” is a mantra that is becoming increasingly promoted and followed and painted stones are becoming increasingly prevalent on summits, even ones as remote and infrequently visited as Rogan’s Seat.

Rogan's Seat summit cairn

Now at my farpoint and not overly appreciating the terrain traversed so far, I consulted the map to see if there was a more direct way back to Tan Hill.  Nothing was obvious so I resigned myself to retracing my steps.  I cut the corner before Water Crag and visited the “Pile of Stones” to the west of the summit but apart from that slight detour, the way back was a reversal of the way out.  Snack stops at William Gill and the mineshaft brought some respite from the uninspiring terrain, even though the sky was clearing and becoming much less dull.

The walk turned out to not fill the day so I took the chance to drive down West Stone Dale and up to Lamps Moss to scout out the parking for a future walk to Nine Standards Rigg.  In the afternoon sun, it was one of the most picturesque drives I have ever had.

Both sides of Buttertubs

The clocks had sprung forward and the weather forecast was cautiously optimistic so I took the chance to tick a couple of my remaining Yorkshire Dales Nuttalls.  Out of the six to choose from, I picked the nearest two and after a 90 mile drive I pulled in at the layby at the summit of Buttertubs Pass.

Buttertubs has the advantage of being over 1,700 feet above sea level so the ascent of two 2,000 feet summits would be that much easier than a normal Pennine sortie.  The first half mile was probably the boggiest of the walk up Great Shunner Fell.  Navigation was easy because of the meandering fences up to the summit but a couple of shortcuts could be taken by cutting some corners.  I imagined that the route would be devoid of crowds and I only saw six other walkers, all descending, as I made my way toward the top.

Great Shunner Fell summit shelter

The cruciform summit shelter is unusual as at the end of one of its arms is a trig point which is well disguised and could be quite easily missed by anyone who doesn’t know that the summit has been adorned by the usual Ordnance Survey stonework.  After taking a few photos I turned tail and headed back the way I came.  Back at Buttertubs I crossed the road and started uphill again.

Great Shunner Fell trig point

summit shelter & trig point

As with the other side of the road the early flatter ground was quite boggy but the ascending slope soon escaped the squelch.  Like the first leg of today’s walk, a wandering fenceline led to the top.

Great Shunner Fell from Lovely Seat

Lovely Seat is another summit with an unusual summit cairn.  I assume that the fell was named before the cairn was built and not because of the presence of an old stonework, but the cairn is a rocky throne which is a grand perch for those with a need for a regal rest and it presents an ideal photo opportunity before the uneventful descent to the top of the Buttertubs Pass.

Lovely Seat's lovely seat!

The Fairy Hill of the Caledonians

My big objective for the weekend was an ascent of the TRAIL 100 summit of Bidean nam Bian.

But with yesterday’s walk up Glencoe’s Pap putting 800 metres of ascent into my legs, the prospect of 1,200 metres of ascent was probably a little ambitious for my lack of hill fitness.  I decided to drive over to Braes of Foss to walk up Schiehallion.  It involved a 150 mile round trip but with only about 800 metres of steady ascent I was happy to make the journey.

I had feared that the car park would be busy on a Saturday with a reasonably good weather forecast but there were plenty of spaces to choose from.

The initial path was well constructed after previous years of much use and erosion.  As we reached the first uphill section path switchbacked, making good progress through the thin covering of snow.  Other groups passed us as we walked up with most of them not burdened by winter boots, ice axes or big winter rucksacks.

As we climbed and had started walking quite late in the morning, a number of parties passed us on their way down.  They told of conditions similar to those currently underfoot with some icy patches to be negotiated.  Schiehallion has a reputation of being rocky underfoot but the snow on the ground filled the gaps between the stones and made it reasonably easy to follow the tracks of those who had gone before us despite the flat light.

There were no views at the summit but identifying the true highpoint was a challenge.  There are a number of blocks as well as the cairn that are candidates so of course I visited them all.

Although we had seen about 20 other walkers on the day, the walk down was quiet.  The snow lower down had turned to slush and we finished in drizzle.  Despite this it was an enjoyable day, even if most of it had been spent in the cloud with its base at about 2,000 feet.

The Pap of Glencoe

Today was never destined to be an early start.

I didn’t start the drive from home to Ballachulish until after 5’o’clock in the previous afternoon and a challenging drive in the dark and rain up the shore of Loch Lomond and over Rannoch Moor left me too alert to think about going straight to bed.  So a leisurely start the following morning was inevitable.

Even though it isn’t on my ticklist the Pap of Glencoe promised a shortish day of walking.  I parked in the large car park at the mountain’s base and started walking along the track parallel to the road.  The footpath to the Pap is well signed low down and as height is gained it is easy to follow although the ground underfoot is very eroded in places, particularly when the ground steepens alongside the Allt a’ Mhuilinn where the path is a deep trench in places.

Garbh Bheinn of Ardgour

The way up then turns left towards the bealach.  I exchanged greetings with a couple of couples who were heading back downhill and then headed straight towards the summit, reaching the flatter ground of the bealach before picking my way through the rockier terrain of the final 500 feet of ascent.  The broken ground of the north-eastern traverse finally gave way to slabbier ground reaching its way to the top.

The summit is a magnificent grandstand for views from the south, past the open seascape towards Ardgour, and around to the east.  The remaining quarter is blocked by the higher ground of Sgorr nam Fionnaidh.  The snow topped summits of the Mamores were a highlight to the north and my first Munro, Sgorr Dhearg, stood sentinel over Loch Leven and its meeting with Loch Linnhe at the Ballachulish bridge.  Garbh Bheinn of Ardgour was unfortunately topped by cloud but its Kinlochleven namesake stood menacingly proud.

the Mamores

Sgorr Dhearg

Garbh Bheinn over Kinlochleven

Loch Linnhe

I took the obligatory photos to record the view before turning tail, retracing my steps and having put on and take off my waterproofs twice to deal with the heavy showers that pulsed in from the Atlantic.

As I descended I realised that the footpath was pretty poor and as the ground was now wet, I had to take some care deciding where to place my feet.  The route was obviously quite well used and the erosion definitely needs to be addressed.

I arrived at the car just as the sun had set and then drove to Ballachulish to choose a suitable beer.

Windy Gyle

There are six Nuttalls in the Cheviots and so far I had ticked five of them.  The solitary summit remaining stood as the most obvious outlier on my map of northern England, marked up with hills already bagged and yet to be ticked.  I thought little of my many other mountain objectives; the time had come for a border raid!

Close monitoring of the MWIS forecasts for the Southern Uplands paid off as the forthcoming Sunday was predicted to have no rain, probable clear summits, temperatures just above freezing but and winds topping out at just 20 mph.

Leaving home at 6:30am to arrive at Wedder Leap car park at 10:30am, I ate a butty for breakfast and got myself ready before starting the walk, icy in places, along the upper Coquet valley to Barrowburn.

A clear tractor track was easy to follow but these lower slopes had not frozen and the muddy ruts needed a bit of care to pick the most solid footsteps.  The views back to Coquetdale were lit by the morning light and the valley’s solitude was laid out for quiet appreciation.

Coquetdale

After the initial climb the angle eased and the track curved to the west.  A couple of farmers on their quad bikes with terrier escort moved a herd of cows off the track and I continued towards higher ground.  Glancing eastwards I spotted a solitary walker descending The Middle; this area has some good terrain for the solo walker.

I passed the memorial stone at Murder Cleugh and joined a track that had another set of snowy footsteps, the first I had seen on my route today, before I turned uphill and the footprints headed towards Uswayford.

approaching Little Ward Law

looking towards Thirl Moor

The views of snowy hillsides in Northumberland National Park towards the south-west opened up as I passed Ward Law.  I made a quick off-track ascent of Little Ward Law and then dropped down to begin walking up the rise towards Scotchman’s Ford.  Soon after crossing the trickling burn, whose flow was diminished because of the obviously frozen surrounding ground, I joined the track leading to Windy Gyle from the Trows valley.  This track, although obscured with snow, was well-trodden and this appeared to be the most common way up from the English side of the border.

crossing the Pennine Way

Windy Gyle trig point & summit cairn

Although not the highest point on the England-Scotland border, Windy Gyle is the highest border summit with any significant prominence, perhaps obviously demonstrated by it being the only border Nuttall.

sun pillar of Windy Gyle

I went through the gate in the border fence and walked the last few yards to the large cairn.  The cairn holds the embedded triangulation pillar and also a shelter which is on the northern side.  The views were expansive across the rolling Cheviots and The Cheviot itself dominated the north-east skyline.  The winter cloak of snow added to the reward of reaching the top and I was happy that I had completed the Cheviot Nuttalls, the most distant of the English spine.

The Cheviot & Hedgehope Hill

The Cheviot

After wandering around the cairn and taking an obligatory summit selfie, I shouldered my rucksack and started making my way down.  At the turn for Scotchman’s Ford I carried straight on following the broad ridge of very easy walking down towards Trows.  Near the end of the ridge I spotted an animal a hundred or more yards in front of me trotting towards the Wardlaw woods.  Despite the distance I was fairly sure that it was a fox.

At Trows I picked up the tarmac road and strolled on quite quickly, reaching the road where Rowhope Burn joins the River Coquet and then made good time on the final mile.  I only met one other person on the whole walk and saw perhaps half a dozen more in the distance.  The Cheviots offer solitude, if that is what you want.