Archives for July 2015

The exciting news – to Iran

24th July 2015 by James Stone Leave a Comment

Any person who has looked at my “bucket list” on this site will note that one mountain listed is in Iran. This is Mount Damavand, a high volcano that is located not that far north of Tehran. In fact only around 40 miles to the north.

So that is where I am going next and I leave on 31st July on Turkish Airlines via Istanbul. I am in a group of seven with, I hope(!), local guides. The trip has been organised through Adventure Peaks, a company based in the Lakes. I do not know any of the seven and I do not know much more about Iran. But it should be quite an adventure.

I will do some write ups about the trip on my return. Wish me luck!

And again..!

24th July 2015 by James Stone Leave a Comment

The weather forecast looked OK, so I made a last minute decision to go around the Yorkshire 3 Peaks for the second time in 5 days yesterday.

Some may question this behaviour as obsessive, or compulsive. They may be right!

I did the traditional round – in other words that starting at Horton in Ribblesdale. I was at the top of Pen-y-ghent in just over an hour. As with Sunday, the cloud kindly lifted as I reached the top. It took me four further hours to reach the summit of Whernside. There was more rain around today, including one sustained period on this ascent. But the clouds stayed high.

The wind was as strong as on Sunday (about 20mph) but it seemed warmer. The weather then just kept on improving. In a further two and a half hours (including a stop for food on Whernside) I was on the top of Ingleborough. It was then a pleasant canter back to the start in my regulation time of just under 9 hours.

I feel far less fatigued today than I did on Monday after Sunday’s round, so I take that as a good sign. That is particularly the case given I did the “longer” option. As a result of erosion, the official 3 Peaks route no longer follows the original (traditional) route in two places and is, instead, replaced by good paths built so as to withstand the weight of footfall. This adds around two miles to the route. Yesterday I did the (now) official route. On Sunday I followed the traditional route in one of the two places, so saving myself a mile or so.

So that is it for my heavy training as I allow my body to enjoy some recovery before I depart to foreign pastures at the end of next week.

Yorkshire Three Peaks (again!)

19th July 2015 by James Stone Leave a Comment

19^th July 2015

The Yorkshire 3 Peaks walk is becoming one of my staples. I did it three times during September and October last year in the lead up to my South America trip.

https://clachliath.com/2014/10/

I am in training again.

This was the 10th time I have completed the round but the first where I have started from Ribblehead with its grand viaduct that carries the Settle-Carlisle railway line. Our summer has been pretty non-existent to date. Today was no exception with the tops covered at first and showers whipping through on the cold (and fairly strong) wind. The weather improved throughout the day with the clouds lifting and breaking but only allowed me to strip down to my base layer top on descending the final summit of Whernside – any warmth in the sun being negated by the wind.

I did a pleasing sub-9 hour round, though that is nothing to brag about given the record. Being contrary I did the route in a clockwise direction to get the long trek between Whernside and Pen-y-ghent out of the way early on. As ever, notwithstanding the weather, there were quite a few others undertaking the challenge.

Sorry no photos taken today!

“English” Corbetts and The Cheviot

14th July 2015 by James Stone Leave a Comment

English is in parentheses because, in truth, this is a misdescription. The Corbetts are hills in Scotland between 2,500ft and 2,999ft with a prominence of at least 500ft. As the hill historian will know, these hills were first catalogued by John Rooke Corbett, a district valuer based in Bristol, and published after his death in 1949. Corbett was the fourth person (and first Englishman) to complete all of the Munros in 1930. He was also the second person to complete all of the Munro tops and, almost certainly, the first to climb all of the Corbetts.

So the “English” Corbetts are the hills in England that meet the Corbett criteria of height and prominence. There are 18 of them as follows:

English Corbett	Height (metres/feet)
Blencathra	868/2847
Great Gable	899/2949
Pillar	892/2927
Grasmoor	852/2795
High Stile	807/2648
Kirk Fell	802/2631
Grisedale Pike	791/2595
High Raise	762/2500
Fairfield	873/2863
St Sunday Crag	841/2760
High Street	828/2718
Harter Fell	778/2552
Red Screes	776/2547
Stony Cove Pike	763/2502
The Old Man of Coniston	803/2635
Cross Fell	893/2930
Mickle Fell	788/2585
The Cheviot	815/2674

A few years back I had had a splurge in mopping up ones undone on this list, many having been climbed (sometimes a number of times) in the years BC*. But I managed to miss out the last on the list, The Cheviot, which has the distinction also of being the highest point in Northumberland. All but the final three are in the Lake District. Cross Fell and Mickle Fell were done in true winter conditions, though that probably made Mickle Fell easier. Instead of having to tramp through heather and bogs, all of that was covered in firm snow and done under gorgeous blue skies with just the slightest breeze.

So as a birthday treat, Julie took me up to Wooler for an overnight in a nice B&B before an attempt at The Cheviot. Wooler is the nearest town to The Cheviot. Wikipedia has a good description of Wooler “as being “situated in an ill-cultivated country under the influence of vast mountains, from whence it is subject to impetuous rains””. Fortunately the weather forecast was a little better for us.

On the Saturday evening we had a nice pub meal in the Percy Arms Hotel in nearby Chatton. Fortunately they were able to accommodate us as we had not booked.

Sunday, 12^th July 2015 saw us driving the narrow roads between Wooler and the rather pretty Harthope Valley and thence almost to Langleeford at the end of the public highway. Here, on the left, was a large grassy area on which to park. A few cars were there already. As were some sheep, nibbling at the car park surface.

We were soon ready to go. I had decided on an anti-clockwise circuit over Scald Hill and then to The Cheviot followed by Cairn Hill and then down the upper reaches of the Harthope Valley. The first few hundred metres were along the road to a car turning place where a chap was being dropped off by his wife. Here a finger post signed Scald Hill as being 1½ miles. We duly followed the instruction and within metres the track split in a manner not shown on the map. We took the (correct) left fork and had a short steep rise up on to the moor.

From here the route was obvious as we trended westwards. The gradient lessened slightly around the 400m contour and then even more at 500m where a path joined us coming from Broadhope Hill. Scald Hill is little more than an insignificant eminence on the journey. Here we were passed by the solo chap. After a slight dip to a boggy col, there is just short of 300m to ascend over a couple of kilometres.

Up to 800m the slope is fairly steep and I used it to test out my fitness, leaving Julie behind. At 800m a stile is climbed, a path joins from the north and a flagstone path begins. Years back The Cheviot had the reputation of being one of the most unpleasant British hills to reach the top of, its summit trig standing proud in the midst of a sea of glutinous peat. As with my experience on Mickle Fell, it was often easier to climb in the frozen depths of winter when the bogs were frozen and covered with snow. These days it is far easier as the flagstones take you over the summit and then on to Cairn Hill providing also a useful navigation aid when the cloud is down as it was when we reached the summit plateau.

The tramp across the plateau is around 750m and the height gain is minimal. Although the cloud was down it was showing every sign of lifting. Indeed, as we reached the trig views began to be seen under the blanket of cloud.

The lone chap was there. We each put on an extra layer to keep the chill wind off. I climbed up on to the plinth upon which the trig was set. We had a chat with him. He was ticking off county high points and was off to do the highpoint of Roxburghshire. He left us and a couple with a pair of dogs arrived as I descended from my lofty perch. They were locals and we had some lunch together in the lee of the plinth. Then another couple with two more dogs arrived but then promptly did an about turn and left.

Having taken some pics we followed some minutes after the four dogs. Soon after the flagstones suddenly disappeared under some black ooze. So we had carefully to leap over some wet bog off to the right before we could rejoin the safety of the path. The way to Cairn Hill was easy as there is a barely perceptible rise to it. There, standing on the top, is a finger post showing routes north along the Pennine Way, to The Cheviot and east the way we would go. By now the clouds had lifted considerably and had started to break. We could see easily north west into the flatter lands on the Scottish side of the border as well as south west along the Cheviot hills. Out to the east, the sea was grey.

Hedgehope Hill on the other side of the Harthope Valley had looked shapely throughout our round to date. We had considered adding it to the day’s walk but were put off by reports of peat hags and we were also pressed a bit for time. So at the dip between Cairn Hill and the rise to Coombe Fell we followed yet another finger sign down Harthope Valley, though not before stripping off a layer or two now we were out of the wind.

It felt quite a long way down the valley. We had to cross the stream numerous times as the path switched banks. The plod was pleasantly broken by the sight of Harthope Linn, a narrowing of the passage of the stream with a small waterfall and a rocky pool beneath. Here the local couple had been indulging in a spot of paddling having taken off boots, socks and trousers. We gave them a cheery wave and carried on.

Eventually, at Langleeford Hope, a grassy vehicular track appeared shortly followed by a metalled one. It was then a quick march back to the car and our return home.

The Border hills have been much neglected by me. That will need to be rectified – well at least in the right weather. They can be grassy, boggy, wet lumps but the hills do convey a sense of space and, like the hills in the northern part of the Yorkshire Dales, are slightly less frequented than elsewhere.

Here are some photos from the day.

* Before Children

Beinn na Caillich

9th July 2015 by James Stone Leave a Comment

3rd July 2015

I remember from my first visit to the Isle of Skye my eyes being drawn to a pudding basin shaped hill standing loftily over the town of Broadford. In those days access to the island was via ferry. Even from the slipway at Kyle of Lochalsh the shape was unmistakeable – uniform boulder covered slopes with a massive cairn on top. This was Beinn na Caillich (otherwise Beinn na Cailleach) or, in English, Hill of the Old Woman.

What this angle does not show is a shapely ridge that runs off behind to its lower neighbour, Beinn Dearg Mhor, and then swings around to the final and lowest top, Beinn Dearg Bheag.

Julie and I were on Skye to celebrate Sue’s 65th birthday. A very pleasant evening at the Duisdale House Hotel had been had the previous evening. So an early start the next morning was not on the cards. So it was a good thing that the starting point for the walk was not that far away from where we had been staying – though we had a slight hold up when a minor traffic accident closed the road out of Broadford. We were able to side step this by taking the old road out of town (which was marked as a “no through road”).

The start is at a small settlement at Coire-chat-achan near to the site of an ancient battle between the Mackinnons and the Norse (at Goir a’Bhlair). Looked at from here the apparent height of the hill is misleading because of the foreshortening of the perspective. Another couple were just about to start off when we arrived. A curious cat was wandering around the cars.

Initially the height gain is relatively gentle as the moorland is crossed. A path appears by a stream which is followed towards the steeper ground. There the gradient increases markedly. The ground also became stonier the higher we went and the stones became boulders. A couple of hundred meters of ascent were spent scrambling and teetering on the irregular blocks as the car receded into the distance. A crag was passed to the right and a shallow corrie followed on its left. The views back over Broadford, its bay and the mainland behind opened up.

As the summit was neared the slope eased and became grassier again. A couple of hours after we set off the massive summit cairn was reached. A stiff breeze was blowing but it was relatively warm. The couple whom we had met by the cars had grabbed a good sheltered spot. The trig point stood 30 meters away.

Zoom to the Skye Bridge

Beinn Dearg Mhor and Blaven

Wow what a view. Here is a short video of the panorama.

Now the full extent of the Black and Red Cuillin had come into view as well as the full extent of the sweep from The Storr to the north around to the Torridon, Applecross, Knoydart hills in the east and distant Ben More on Mull to the south. Blaven, in particular, stood brooding beneath dark cloud with the main Cuillin ridge to the right.

Legend has it that a Norwegian princess was buried under the summit cairn or (as Thomas Pennant, the 18th century naturalist, would have it) “a gigantic woman in the days of Fingal”. I am not aware of any excavations having been undertaken, but the cairn is certainly large enough to have been capable of serving this purpose.

Thomas Pennant climbed Beinn na Caillich and described it thus:

“Walk up Beinn na Caillich, or, the hill of the old hag; one of those picturesque mountains that made such a figure from the sea. After ascending a small part, find its sides covered with vast loose stones, like the Paps of Jura, the shelter of ptarmigans; the top flat and naked, with an artificial cairn of a most enormous size, reported to have been the place of sepulture of a gigantic woman in the days of Fingal. The prospect to the west was that of desolation itself; a savage series of rude mountains, discolored, black and red, as if by the rage of fire. Nearer, joined to this hill by a ridge, is Beinn-na-grain, or, mountain of the Sun; perhaps venerated in ancient times. Mal-more, or, the round mountain, appears in the north. The serrated tops of Blaven affect with astonishment: and beyond them, the clustered height of Quillin, or the mountain of Cuchullin, like its hero, stood like a hill that catches the clouds of heaven. The deep recesses between these Alps, in times of old, possessed the sons of the narrow vales, the hunters of the deer; and to this time are inhabited by a fine race of stags”.

Another single (and rather “large”) man arrived as we continued to look around. He had ascended from the north. The couple left their sheltered spot and we quickly replaced them there in order to have some lunch. It was almost 1pm.

No sooner had we started to tuck into our food than a familiar face appeared. It was John. We had told various members of the party the previous evening what our intentions were and John had stirred himself into action and had decided to find us!

So we would do the rest of the circuit with him. It was good of him to share his birthday with us.

After taking the obligatory photos we set off towards the linking ridge to Beinn Dearg Mhor (which I assume is the Beinn-na-grain of Pennant’s description). After the boulders it was most pleasant to have a nice shapely ridge to follow. Less than an hour later we were at the next summit where, of course, we had the necessary sit down for more food and a look at the views. Here Blaven and Clach Glas loomed larger than ever. Garbh Mhor stood out as a pyramid, a contrast against the other rounded Red Cuillin. Like Beinn na Caillich, this summit was rather rounded so the better views were had by walking 50 metres or so from the cairn.

En route to Beinn Dearg Mhor

Beinn Dearg Bheag

As time pressed, we needed to move. The next section, the descent down to the col with Beinn Dearg Bheag, was a most unpleasant, steep plunge on unstable scree requiring considerable care. I managed the descent without falling though one or two slips had me flailing. Both John and Julie made contact with the ground with their posteriors!
It was a relief to reach the col. I perched on a rock, my gaze fixed largely on the still prominent Blaven and a sandy beach down on Loch Slapin whilst occasionally looking up at the other two descending towards me.

There was then a straightforward 60m climb up to the broad summit ridge of the final top of the day. The highpoint is crossed before the cairn is reached at the southern end. Looking back, I wondered how we had managed the scree descent. From here it looked impossible.

Beinn Dearg Bheag

The screes of Beinn Dearg Mhor

At the cairn the views become more expansive to the south and east and, therefore, there was a further excuse to stop, admire and eat! The sun continued to beat down. Rhum and Eigg floated in the sea to the south west. In the haze a distant Ben More on Mull could just be seen to the south.

Looking back to Beinn Dearg Mhor

It was 3.30pm and time to leave. The descent along the east ridge was nice with a path most of the way. There was then a short, if largely wet, steeper drop down to the Allt Beinn Deirge before a final slog across occasionally boggy moorland to the start point. Here, the midges that had been kept off higher up by the breeze, tried their best to feast on me. By the time I reached the car my bare skin was flecked with the small black specks of dead bodies.

This is a great round with fantastic views. Keep it for a good day on that account. It took us 6¾ hours, but with over an hour of stops. Apart from the largely trackless moorland and the scramble up the boulders, there are paths all the way around.