In search of the white hare

"Early January, high on the moors of the Peak District National Park" 

That is unlikely to be a phrase that conjures up images of sunshine and warmth to anyone who knows the Peak District. And I can live with that, but on this particular day I really didn't want it to rain. I was taking my daughter up onto Bleaklow in an attempt to witness a rare sight in the UK, even rarer if you limit your purview to just England. The trip had to be made in winter, our goal is not there to be seen in summer. So back in the Christmas holidays we picked a free Saturday a few weeks away and hoped for the best. The night before the big day the Met Office forecast suggested cool, dull and very windy, but crucially no rain - we were on.

Loaded with warm and waterproof layers, cameras, binoculars and the de rigueur Thermos of hot chocolate, we left home early to complete the 1hr 20min journey before the traffic picked up, and to make the most of the short hours of daylight. Driving through the southern half of the Peak District in the incremental reduction in dullness that passed for sunrise that day, we talked about our goal for the day - white hares.

The only population of mountain hares in England, if you want to see them anywhere else in the mainland UK you're going to Scotland - by no means a problem, but a slightly longer trip. They are native to the UK, but the Peak District population is the result of a reintroduction  with the natively present populations having gone extinct previously. To the untrained eye in summer, relatively easy to confuse with Brown Hares, their lowland, non-native cousin. But in the winter, like a few other upland specialised species, there is no difficulty to determine what you have seen. The mountain hares turn white.

I've been pretty fortunate in my experiences with mountain hares. I used to see them often during the years I worked up on the moors of the Peak District, both in their summer and winter pelage, and have also seen them in Scotland. But my daughter had never seen one. A white hare was the stuff of folklore for her, and this trip was a dream fulfilment mission. No pressure then. 

Parking up at the summit of the Snake Pass, we battled our way out of the car in strong winds. The Met Office had nailed it. It really was cool (for a little girl getting perilously close to properly cold with the wind chill!), very dull with a thick blanket of grey cloud just skimming the high point of Kinder to the south and Bleaklow to the north, and very, very windy. Struggle-to-open-the-car-door-into-the-wind, sort of windy. Getting your outer layers on in those conditions is always fun, but we managed it. In the process I realised that I've still got things to learn as father to a young daughter. I hadn't tied her hair back, and it was already whipping around her face before we had even left the car. Whoops. She was not amused, and fair enough. It wasn't quite the start to the outing I had hoped for.

North was our direction of travel, our backs more or less to the wind to begin with. A wind that intensified as we followed the Pennine Way into its sunken channel, a natural and highly effective wind tunnel. Buffeted by the wind and out of sight of the surrounding moorlands we may not have been able to see any hares, but they were also relatively unlikely to catch sight of us. As we progressed further from the Snake Pass, we raised ourselves above the parapet occasionally to scan the moors with our binoculars - trench warfare. At one of these scouting sessions I spotted a blob of white far off on the edge of a depressions in the peat. Was it a hare!? No, it was a piece of a sheep, the rest obscured further into the depression. Disappointing but it was still early. We had as long as we wanted, or as long as a small person could put up with, whichever arrived first.


On our route up to Hern Clough we spotted hare droppings and frequently used runs through the cotton grass, heard the distinctive, staccato cackle of red grouse and the acorn symbols of the Pennine Way trail markers.  We were definitely on the right track, in more ways that one on this occasion.

The wind continued to blow us toward our intended destination, but it was also still mercilessly blowing hair into a not-as-smiley face, chilling little fingers and a little nose. Despite being wrapped up to the eye balls there was a very real risk that this wind, and the resulting cold was putting a downer on our little adventure. The trip, intended to fulfill a wish and ingrain positive, outdoor experiences, was at risk of becoming a negative, "why did we do this" sort of a trip.

Now of course, when out of doors with little people, versatility is the name of the game, and I was prepared for such an eventuality. On reaching Hern Clough, we turned and followed it downstream in an attempt to drop out of the wind. It didn't work quite as well as hoped... but we did eventually find a sheltered spot round a meander and behind a shoulder of the hillside where we perched for a bite to eat and some of the hot chocolate, a guaranteed spirit lifter. Now working on a circular route outlook rather than the original out and back route we were covering different ground, and were able to spy out into the dead ground of the stream valley ahead of us as we went. Still nothing.

As we reached a turning point in our route, literally, we needed to turn right and go back up hill, we found (drum roll please) some pieces of a white hair. Yep, pieces. A foot, a tail and a few other bones and bits of fur. Granted it was not quite what we had hoped for, but it was exciting enough to put a smile on a cold little face, and a smile on my face too. Not just because my daughter was a bit happier, but also because nestled into what was left of the tail was a sexton beetle, Necrophorus vespilloides, to be specific. In case you are wondering why a beetle which feeds on dead stuff puts a smile on my face, I wrote my Masters dissertation on them, so they bring back happy (and smelly) memories. Good times.

This finding, and the assurance that we were now heading for the car, put a little extra vigour into our pace but we still had a little way to go, and now had no formal path to follow. Navigation wasn't an issue, it was an area I knew and we had good visibility to pick out of reference points - the problem with no path was the trips and slips which result from walking through tall heather. We followed a fence line, and the sheep run that paralleled it, continuing to scout out for a blob of white. a few spells of sitting down, and an eventual caving in to the request for a ride on my shoulders (oh my poor aching back!) we were back in sight of the car in the distance. Surely now the motivation to keep going would be there, with the original goal of the trip now a distinct second place to getting back to the warmth of the car. Until.

"HARE!!" There it was, the legend incarnate. Hunched in the lee of a peat hag, white fur in striking contrast to the black peat, stationary and staring, just like us. We broke first, reaching for cameras, but it was faster out of the blocks and was up and gone. We watched it go and smiled. Mission accomplished. The rest of the journey was irrelevant. We had seen the white hare. Memory banked, positivity restored, foundation for future wildlife adventures reinforced. The magic rabbit had been pulled out of the hat in the nick of time, and saved the day.

Richard

Looking forward by looking back. Thanks 2019.

A highlight of the year - our family holiday to the Isle of Skye. This was at Loch Coruisk 

Each New Year is an opportunity to consider whether you made the most of the one before, whether you used your time wisely, your opportunities to the full. 

I'll be honest, 2019 was good, but it could have been better. If I had used my time better, and stuck to my priorities without being distracted by less important calls on my time and attention, I'd have fitted in more quality time with my family (which should always be my number 1 priority), and more time enjoying and learning about the great outdoors. 

I shared some goals this time last year (see those here) for some noteworthy trips and challenges. Not all of them worked out, but I managed many of them, and added quite a lot more. The biggest omission was probably not being able to walk the route of Hadrian's Wall, a long held goal - in the end I just couldn't take off the time it would have required at the time of year I had intended to walk it. But its been there for 2000 years, I doubt it's going anywhere anytime soon. There will be another chance. 

Some of the 'adventures' have already featured in the blog, others haven't ... yet. There is another goal for this year, to make more of this blog. The posts may well be shorter to enable them to be more frequent but I can live with that. 

There was the trip to Wales with my brothers in February - that was a lot of fun and a rare opportunity to get time with my siblings. There was the family reunion to southern Scotland in April with my mothers side of the family, then the trip to the Isle of Skye with just our little family in early May. Good thing Scotland never gets old, in fact it seems to get better and better with every visit. There were family visits to the beach, a short trip over to Wales with one of my brothers for a last Hurrah before he went to live abroad for two years as a volunteer missionary for our Church. There were family days out in the Peak District in Autumn colours, and on winter days to see water falls. 

And in looking back on all that I think, 'Yea, we did alright'. But in looking back to what happened in between those adventures, large and small, the lost days because we got up late, or had jobs to do which I could have done the night before if I had foregone the telly. Or the evenings when I could have done something to earn a bit of extra pocket money to pay for a slightly more interesting adventure than I ended up doing... I think you can see the pattern. 

As such, I am not going to make specific 'resolutions', rather my goal for the year is to make better use of my time. Less TV, less social media, less lounging around, less late nights not really staying up for anything except to just stay up. More reading real books, more writing blogs or articles or books (I have a long list I'd like to write), more time facilitating adventures. 

And I use facilitating instead of planning because 'planning adventures' way too frequently turns into scrolling through Instagram looking at the latest fad for "influencers" and "content creators" to head to the same exotic place and take very similar photos of very similar places. And actually, that's not what I want. I want my own adventures, not someone else's left overs. 

By facilitating I mean more than dreaming or wishing, I mean really planning. Studying maps, setting routes, identifying potential wild camping sites, understanding travel requirements, finding the buses / trains / planes I will need to get there, understanding the likely cost of the travel, taking that into account in my adventure budget, understanding what time of year will be best based on what I want to see / peak season higher prices / weather conditions and so on, considering what equipment I will need based on where, when and what I will be doing - not just the latest cool must have gadget, but the items I will actually need to undertake the trip (which I am very grateful to say for me is a relatively short list these days, unless something has worn out or broken, or I am really pushing my comfort zone!), adding those needs into my adventure budget, then planning how I will save or make the money needed to hit that budget in time to achieve the goal, then making the money stretch by buying second hand or last season (because who cares if the colour palette doesn't match the latest catalogue), honestly assessing my fitness or capability levels and determining whether practice / training or formal instruction is required to get me physically ready for the endeavour, then setting a training plan to get me ready, following that plan, tweaking the route, checking the kit, practice packing it all in to make sure it fits, some demo journeys to see if I actually need everything I packed ... oh, and then actually going on the trip I suppose. 

Phew, that sounds like enough to keep me busy. 

So, goodbye 2019, thanks for the fun times, and thanks for the reminder than I can accomplish way more when I put my mind to it than we did together - my fault, not yours. 

Now then, 2020 - lets see what we can manage when we put our minds to it!

See you out there,

Richard     

Meteors & Lighthouses

My one meteor photograph of the morning... room for improvement!

It's late on a freezing December night in the mid 1990's. A young boy and his dad give up trying to put up their tent at a friends farm in rural Wales. The ground is frozen solid - without a hammer there is no way they are getting those pegs in the ground. The alternative is the car, which seems like a poor option at first. Wrapped up in all his clothes and his sleeping bag the boy reclines in the passenger seat and hopes he will be able to sleep. But soon sleep is the last thing on his mind because the sky is falling!

Little did my dad and I know all those years ago that by pure chance we had picked the peak of the Geminids meteor shower for our winter camping excursion. The frosty temperatures resulted from a perfectly clear night which revealed a stunningly starry sky. As we relaxed - well, settled at least - into our cold but well windowed accommodation we realised that the 'stars' were a whole lot more active than usual. Meteors were falling, by the hundred. Or so it seemed to my little boys imagination nearly a quarter of a century ago (wow, I am getting old!). 

-------- 

Not meteors, but the planes still look pretty
cool in photos! 

As a result of that experience as a youngster, the chance to watch a meteor shower will always grab my attention. I even took my girlfriend to watch the Perseids shower as one of our first dates just over 10 years ago... given that she has now been my wife for 9 years that worked out pretty well. 

Knowing that this year the peak of the Perseids meteor shower coincided with a break to visit family in rural Suffolk, where light pollution is less of a concern than urban Stoke (who'd have guessed it?!) we planned to try and watch the shooting stars again, this time sharing them with our children. That was the plan anyway. The night before the peak we sat out in the back garden for a few minutes and caught sight of a handful of meteors before retiring for bed, keeping our fingers crossed that the forecast of clear skies the following night would hold true. 

The next night the alarm was set for 2:15 am. Thank goodness I don't do that too often! I got up to check the skies were clear and then returned to help my wife wake up the children... except they would not be woken! Our 7 year old rolled over, pulled the covers over her head and told us to go away. The 3 year old didn't even stir despite extended shaking and repeatedly calling his name. Oh well, maybe next time.

The first of the dawn light competing with the last of
the stars. 

Laid on camping mats in the garden to take in as much of the sky as possible, we watched the 'show' for a while - the best kind of outdoor theatre. We probably saw a dozen or so in the 20 minutes we watched for, but the light spilling over from surrounding houses marred it a little. Emily very sensibly returned to a warm and comfy bed but I, sucker for punishment that I am, wanted to make a little more of the opportunity. I drove the 10 minutes out to the coast where I hoped there would be less light pollution to watch for a bit longer. It was worth the drive!

I also wanted to try to take some photo's, hoping to catch a shooting star or two. My previous attempts at astrophotography have been amateurish at best, and I didn't think these would be much better, but you've got to start somewhere. I set the camera up and took some test shots then set the camera running taking continuous shots hoping that a meteor would coincide with one of the images. The results were not great, but it was a chance to practice the technique at least. I caught one shooting star, a tiny smudge of a meteor - I think I picked the wrong bit of sky to point the camera at. Never mind, lessons learned. 

While laying on the ground looking up at the sky listening to the camera shutter repeatedly opening and closing, I became aware that the footpath sign just beyond my feet had changed shape. Confused and assuming I had dozed off and that my eyes were playing tricks on me, I stared harder at the sign. It moved. It took me another second or two to realise that the new shape was that of a Barn Owl which must have silently alighted while my gaze was directed elsewhere. It sat for a moment before going on its way with scarcely a sound - I think it heard me shift position for a better view. Having an owl, or any other wild animal for that matter, approach to within 10 feet of you is a pretty good way to start any day. And my day really was only just starting, it still wasn't even 5 am at this point!

I probably saw another 30 or so meteors before dawn started to colour and brighten the eastern sky, fading the stars until only the very brightest were still visible. Given my location on the east coast it would have been rude not to hang around for a bit longer to watch the sun rise out of the North Sea, a sight I don't get to enjoy all too often. I wandered north along the shingle for a few minutes until Orford Ness Lighthouse was more or less in line with where the sun would rise and waited. I figured the lighthouse would be a worthwhile addition to any photo's I may take. While completely alone, I was not without company. Hundreds of sea birds were waking up and flying off. Many of them had clearly roosted in the safety offered by the single spit of Orford Ness. The fisherman were up too - several trawlers chugged past me heading for deeper waters and pushing a wave after wave along the shore as I waited, each peeling off a cloud of gulls as it passed.

With half an hour or more until the sun was due to rise I played about with a few time lapses of the rolling clouds and brightening sky until the sun poked out from behind a large cloud on the distant horizon. It wasn't the most dramatic sunrise I've ever seen, but there is something about being witness to the birth of a new day which never gets old. Heading back towards the car, there was a lot more light to see what I had unwittingly passed earlier. Brown hares and curlews sat in the pastures reclaimed from the surrounding salt marsh. Reed buntings and other small birds sat atop the swaying reeds which lined the ditches. A lone seal, lounging on the shingle, stirred lazily as the day brightened, clearly contemplating the right moment to go in search of breakfast. I had been making a similar decision and was hoping that I'd be back in time to grab not only breakfast, but also 40 winks before the rest of the household woke up too!

Richard

The first peek of the sun rising behind the Orford Ness light house. 

Daddy-Daughter Wild Camp: Summer Solstice Microadventure

"The longest day of the year" - that always sounds dramatic doesn't it. Is it also a little sad? Almost as if the year is saying, "You've got less sunshine from here on, sunshine, make the most of it!" Last year on the longest day I was making the most of it, I think so anyway. I was walking down a river in Wales - read about that adventure here. This year I had originally considered walking Hadrian's Wall around the solstice weekend but had changed those plans to do something I could include the family in - the end result was a plan to go camping with my daughter. Excellent.  

A month or so back Alistair Humphreys (if you haven't heard of Mr Humphreys you should check him out, I find his approach to encouraging people to 'live adventurously' both motivational and realistic) issued a challenge to #goniceplacesdonicethings over the summer solstice weekend; specifically encouraging people who struggle to fit 'adventure' into their life to get outside and do something attainable. Oh, and there were prizes too, you know, added motivation. In any event, any uncertainty there may have been that we would get out that weekend vanished. The fervent and hopeful weather forecast watch began and the specific plans started to materialise.  

The final resolution on location came when my old colleagues up in the Peak District informed me they were having a BBQ that evening and invited me to come along. We would drive up to the Peak District, drop in to the BBQ to see some old friends and then find a secluded, quiet spot for 'little wild guy' to experience her first wild camp*. She wasn't quite ready for the full bivvy bag only experience (which is a shame as the weather would have been perfect for it and I love my bivvy bag!!) so we took my small hiking tent along instead.

Suitably stocked with snacks, sweets and a large thermos flask of hot chocolate we parked Rhino (the family adventure wagon) below Mam Tor and walked up to Hollins Cross before turning right and heading for Lose Hill at the eastern end of the Great Ridge while the sun set on our left over the Kinder Plateau. To be honest, this was a greater distance than I had remembered from previous visits and the littler legs of the party were starting to lag before we reached the spot we were aiming for, but reach it we did. 

We tucked in to a modest supper of crackers, cheese, salami, M&M's and hot chocolate before putting the tent up in what was by then - about 10:15pm - fast falling light. Little wild guy was out like a light seconds after snuggling into her sleeping bag giving me a chance to do a bit of reading - "The Kindess of Strangers": watch this space for a Best Books entry soon - as the light blue darkened to navy and filled with stars, and the warm glow receeded from a significant chunk to a sliver along the north-western horizon. 

After a good nights sleep we did it all again, in reverse. The tent, the meal, the walk, the car - getting home mid morning on another beautiful sunny day filled with plans and chores. Little guy had slept well. "More comfortably than in her own bed" were the words she used. Our wildcamp had been a success then! It certainly was for me anyway - I had slept well too, enjoying the occasional awakening providing opportunities to glance up and out of the tent door (we may not have been in bivvy bags but I left the tent door open as a compromise) and see the stars, then the first hint of dawn, then a pre-sunrise glare girding it's loins behind scattered cloud before eventually full morning and daylight was upon us once again. This may have been the first daddy-daughter wildcamp but it won't be the last. And the littlest wild guy, my son, was extremely jealous of big sisters adventures and is desperate for one of his own ... Oh, alright then, if you insist son...

Richard  

  

Highlights of wildness from the past few months

Despite the silence on the blog (for two months! whoops!), we have been getting outside as a family. As the actual 'getting out' is more important that writing about it, I don't feel too bad about the lack of writing. It's better than writing about it and not doing it! But the time has come for a bit of catch up on our family time as well as other things!

Our trips haven't all been to our local woods, we've thrown a few extras in here and there to keep some variety, including a few trips to the Peak District, our local National Park, and TWO trips to Scotland since the last blog post. But we have included semi-regular visits to the woods and the seasonal changes have certainly been apparent already. While we have passed up opportunities a couple of times because of the weather, we have been out on days where it would have been easier to stay in too! But it hasn't all been grey skies, we've also enjoyed some absolutely beautiful weather!

Since I last wrote we have managed the following outings among others, which as much as anything is a list of pretty easily accessible outings for people in the Stoke-on-Trent area:

- a wet, cold and blustery (and therefore short) trip out to Mow Cop Castle on the Staffordshire / Cheshire border. It's owned and managed by the National Trust but unlike many of their larger properties free to visit. There isn't much to the 'castle' these days, and you can't actually go into it but it is a handsome feature and has cracking views over Staffordshire and Cheshire. Of course, the view was not all that special when we were there as it was dominated by low, grey cloud and accompanied by heavy rain. But we were outside, working towards our fresh air quota for the week AND our daughter took an old camera for a 'photography lesson'. Much like the view, the lesson didn't really materialise while we were there, but it's a start!

- A post school / work trip out to Park Hall Country Park on the edge of Stoke-on-Trent for a walk. Being a very short (less than 5 minutes) drive from home this is a favourite spot of ours for some family outdoor time. It has expansive views out over the city and is the best place I have yet found to watch the sun set over Stoke-on-Trent.
- Several trips to our local woods including the finding of a new favourite climbing tree where the children have had some tree climbing lessons. On our most recent excursion the bluebells were just starting to come out in earnest, but we need to visit again as they are probably fully out now! The little stream which flows through the 'woods' - although really through the adjoining rough grassland and scrub - has also become a favourite of the children to jump across and splash in.
-  A sunny walk at Downs Banks National Trust reserve near Stone, between Stoke-on-Trent and Stafford. A mosaic of woodland and grassland on either side of a scenic brook. Stepping stones and shallow water make it a prime place to enjoy a bit of water play for small feet, but the woods and banks are full of interest for older eyes too. The meandering brook through the valley is a fitting centre piece to such a pleasant reserve which we have visited often before, and will continue to.
- Bank holiday weekend saw a chance to go a little further afield to the Peak District and the Monsal Trail near Buxton. We took a scooter and a bike for the little legs and enjoyed a morning scooting at various speeds along the old train line through old tunnels and over high bridges between the high walls of the stunning gorge of the river Wye. Climbers were enjoying more vertical adventures on the gorge walls with a beautiful blue sky as a ceiling, but the little Guys are not quite ready for adventures of that scale just yet.
- Finally the Roaches were once again a feature of a brief and short notice evening outing during the Easter holidays. The Roaches need no introduction here, but this was the first time I had visited properly since the huge moorland fire last year. It was sobering, but that is the topic for a different post.

This brief account skims over a few outings, misses entirely the two Scottish adventures which are also worthy of their own posts and also doesn't touch on my 'wild moments' from working as a conservationist which gets me out more than many - another subject for separate posts. There is stuff to keep me writing for a little while yet, so I will leave this brief update here with a map showing our trips out and about. Until next time...

Richard

Wild Moments: Off we go again...

We made it out again! We got back out to the woods.

The weather was OK, in the sense that it wasn't raining, but it was dull and grey compared to the gorgeous, blue sky evening we had last week. But the crucial thing was we managed to stick to our goal to get out for a family walk again. 

What we call "The Woods" is about 75 acres of mixed woodland and grassland tucked away behind housing estates and industrial areas in the eastern portion of Stoke-on-Trent city limits. The woodlands are the key feature, and they are beautiful - a mix of older woodland, and younger trees grown up over the site of what I understand was an old brick works. The older areas, full of twisty old oaks and birch, is our favourite. In the spring it is an amazing display of bluebells!

Anyway, this evening the goal was a stream. There are two which flow through 'the woods' and we headed for the furthest with the children running ahead, beckoning us to follow and stopping to check which path we needed to take at each fork. Blossoms were out and added small spots of brightness to the otherwise dull woods on a grey evening. However, when we reached the furthest one the children decided they preferred the other one, you can't win them all.

We learned a lesson the hard way today, when at the furthest point from home one of the children decided they needed the toilet... typical. So we turned for home via the shortest possible route a little sooner than we may have done otherwise, but we still had a decent walk. When I say 'learned a lesson', that isn't the first time that has happened, so we haven't learned yet! 

Our youngest was hilarious with the mud today, despite wearing wellies he was tip-toeing round all the muddy areas - funny boy! He hasn't always been like that, so hopefully it is just a phase and he'll get out of it soon. 

That will do for yesterday's family micro-adventure, this weekend holds a bigger adventure with another part of the family, but that's another story!

Richard

Wild Moments: A family walk at sunset.

I think it is probably on every parents wish list to spend more quality time with their children, time where other distractions can be set aside and just being a parent and a child can be the main focus, even if only for a short time.

We are exactly the same, and so earlier this week we decided one morning (because the weather was beautiful again and it can't last forever in February) that as soon as I was home from work and our oldest daughter was home from her school club, that we would head out for a walk to our local woods. And we did exactly that.

Our woods are a under-appreciated gem, but I'll write more about them another time. The key thing for this short post is that they are easy walking distance from our home and large enough than when in amongst the trees you could pretty easily imagine that you weren't really surrounding by houses and industrial estates.


The sun was already getting low when we left and provided and beautiful, warm back-light to our adventure. Not that warmth was missing, despite being February it was well into double figures Celsius and none of us needed coats or even jumpers.


Wellies were worn of course, mud was jumped in and squelched, the little stream was splashed in, roots were battled with, trees climbed, bird song listened too, tree buds admired, early flowers appreciated, dead leaves crunched, some paths followed and others ignored in favour of the 'adventure route', steps climbed, sticks (swords) were found and battles fought, ecological investigations were initiated ("What dug this hole"? / "What left this footprint"? / "What flower will this be"?) and fresh air and exercise were enjoyed by all. Phew, it was full on small-child adventuring!

Despite the fun the calls for home came and eventually, although by a pretty circuitous route, we pointed our noses for home and left the woods. But there was one more little treat before we concluded our family micro-adventure that day. Between the woods and home there is a point where we can look out to the west across the city. And being a gorgeous day without a cloud in the sky the golden orange orb of the sun was perched teetering on the hazy horizon. We waited and watched as it slipped out of view, eventually leaving just a nail clipping of brightness before vanishing entirely.

Then it was home, dinner, pyjamas, off to a church meeting for me, bed time for the little people - back to normal life. But it was a great escape while it lasted.

We are determined this year to make more of these wild moments for us as a family, particularly in those woods. The signs of spring are already well on the way and what better way for the children to appreciate the seasons specifically and the natural world generally than to witness it change on their doorstep week by week.

More wild moments of this ilk to follow in weeks and months to come.


Richard

Plans for 2019

Soo... 2019. How did that happen?!

As I've already mentioned (here), 2018 was a good year. About a year ago I wrote about my plans for the year ahead (click here). I didn't really stick too closely to those, but it gave me some targets and set me up at the beginning of the year to try and use the time wisely. So this is take 2 - another years worth of plans to be changed as needed, but to set the tone for the year.

Before I get into the exciting plans, something I would like to plan on is putting more conservation themed content into my pictures and blog posts - it's there in my day to day life, but perhaps because it is such a big part of my routine I often end up writing about other things. To me 'adventure' is really just a way to increase my enthusiasm and experience of the natural world around me, and a desire to conserve it is the natural result. I can't visit a mountain or a river or a wetland and appreciate it's natural beauty, or harshness, or diversity without in turn thinking "other people need to see / learn about / experience this for themselves" and "I need to make sure this is looked after". So I need to reflect that more in what I am sharing. A bit more of that sort of thing later on.

Adventure plans then. Pretty tame compared to many peoples; no international travel, no really high cost, long duration trips, just old school, relatively low cost, low complexity fun.
- March (probably) will contain a 'boys adventure' with my brothers, all 6 of them (including my brother-in-law) to mid Wales. To replace in part our delayed Three Peaks attempt last year. Mid Wales is an area I visited often last year, and an area I will keeping going back to - I love it over there.
- April: Extended family reunion in southern Scotland. We try to hold these every other year, and I've been looking forward to this since the last one finished!
- May: Re-scheduled family trip to the Isle of Skye. When we looked into it for last summer we were put off by all the accounts of how touristy it gets in the peak season. I am very excited about this, it will be my first trip to the Isle of Skye and will tick off a bucket list destination for me.
- June: Hopefully the full Hadrian's Wall path. 85 ish miles across the UK from coast to coast. This is another 'wanted-to-do-it-for-years' item. I haven't really looked into the plans for this yet, so I will need to figure out the specifics but I am looking forward to making it work somehow.
- Maybe another Snowdonia trip at some point later in the year, but that is TBC.

Is that it? I think it is at present. There are gaps through the year which can be filled with other bits and pieces. 'Micro-adventures' will be sprinkled throughout. Beach trips with the children, early morning wanderings round Cannock Chase before work, family walks, cycling to work instead of driving, sledging (if we get any decent snow), maybe even canoeing to work once or twice, plenty of options. In many ways these smaller, day to day 'adventures' will be more important. I fully subscribe to the thinking of Alastair Humphreys (look him up if you've never heard of him) that living adventurously is more about little things on a regular basis, than one off big trips or exotic travel. But also because these will be where my children learn about living adventurously, and appreciating the beautiful world around them. Those trips are where that desire to protect what they have come to appreciate, which stems from a love of what they have seen, will develop.


There is learning to be done too.
- I'm hoping to do some more water based stuff this year, possibly a canoeing / kayaking course of some sort to increase my current (very low) skill level to match my (pretty high) enthusiasm level.
- I have shelves of books to read which I would like to make more time for this year, leaving Youtube and social media behind for a bit and focusing on more tangible 'content' (does anyone else not like that word very much?). I'll try and increase the number of 'The Best Book' reviews I post on here.
- I'd like to do more with my website, share more through it, expand it a bit, make more use of it generally.

There is also the back ground stuff. For example, the home office (not THAT Home Office you understand) and / or Man Cave which I have been talking about since we moved into our current home nearly 7 years ago. This year needs to be the year that I make some progress on that. Rhino, my adventure wagon and workhorse needs a little bit of TLC - on an adventure trip last year I managed to kill the alternator with ( I assume) some water which was a little on the deep side for him. He is fixed, but I need to make sure that doesn't happen again - I will write about the story of that at some point.
In fact, he really needs to feature on this blog more often than he currently does.

Finally, I would really like to be a bit more proactive on getting these messages out to people. I don't really know how that is going to take shape yet, but I need to pull my finger out and figure it out this year. Maybe offering to talk in schools or help out on Duke of Edinburgh Awards or something like that. Who knows.

In any event, I intend it to be a full year, and going by the fact that a whole month of it has already passed me by that side of things is well on track

Richard

Looking back on a good year

2018, you were great, thanks!

I hope that every one of the two or three people reading this had a good year, and that you have another good one in 2019. I've been simultaneously thinking about the high points of the last 12 months, and what the next year is likely to hold for me. Highlights first, goals to be shared another day!

High points of 2018:

Early February - Starting with a literal high, Snowdon (click here to read by post about that). I'd procrastinated this for far too long and it was great to have finally done it. The weather was interesting (snow and ice on the ground) but really great in terms of the sights and experience they offered me. What a way to start the year!

April - Barra, Outer Hebrides. A treat for a significant birthday (but can you guess which one?!) this trip was the fulfilment of a dream I have had since I was a teenager, and it absolutely didn't disappoint. I was only able to scratch the surface of what the Outer Hebrides have to offer, but I will certainly be back to scratch deeper! I haven't even finished writing the blog posts about it yet, but that is not for lack of interest, it is more for concern that I can't do it justice! Parts 1 and 2 are done (click here and here respectively), Part 3 is yet to be completed, but will make an appearance at some point... soon... ish?!)

May - Extended family holiday to Wales. Wife and children, parents, siblings, their families, big cottage, middle of no where in the Brecon Beacons National Park, river in the garden, beautiful weather, whats not to like! Great company, great location, great times. Oh and Wales, which, while I am a proud Englishman, holds a special place in my heart.

June - Another bucket list tick here, a source-to-sea river trip on what has to be one of my favourite rivers (through personal experience) in the UK, the Ystwyth in mid Wales. I've wanted to travel it's whole length for years and this year was THE year. Along with one of my brothers we geared up and set off. We had planned to spend the majority of the journey in the water but between some gear issues and this trip coinciding with one of the driest spells in recent UK meterological history, that didn't quite pan out. But that's fine, because it means we can chalk this one up as a fact finding mission, re-assess equipment requirements and do it all again another time! Yes. Despite the set backs, a good trip! (Read about that trip here) 

Summer - New Job. This changed a lot of things, most exciting of which personally was the extra time each day I was able to spend with my family. I really enjoyed my old job - I mean, seriously, how many jobs pay you to ride in helicopters and hike round a National Park? - but my new job allowed me to spend more than 2 hours a day extra with my family. That is massive. The new job is exciting too, it is a step forward and up in my career path, earns me a bit more, saves me money on commuting costs etc etc, but the key reason this is a highlight, is the extra family time. (I think I'll be doing an update on my job situation for this blog soon)

July - We stole away for a family micro-adventure. We wanted to take the children to a decent beach and couldn't really think of one (we do live in a land locked county after all) that was close and we wanted to go to, so we just bit the bullet and drove all the way to Angelsey - because we knew there was a beautiful beach there. It was a cracking day out and both parents and children had a good time, even after the canoe capsized, whoops.  

August - 2018 was a year of bucket list ticking! Another one to tick off harks back to Wales again! (Were all of my adventures in 2018 in Wales...? Maybe), This had been on my list probably for as long as, or at least very close to my river walk dreams. Anybody who likes to explore off the beaten track on 4 wheels will likely be familiar with the term 'green lane', and anyone familiar with the term green lane may well have heard of Strata Florida Abbey in mid Wales, or more specifically, the 'road' which runs through the mountains behind it. The woods where this green lane starts were a favourite play ground when visiting my Grandparents in Wales most years and we would often see 4x4's heading up and off into what seemed like the back of beyond. Ever since then I've wanted to drive that route. That obviously required a vehicle which was capable of doing it (don't think my fiesta would have managed back when I first started driving). I've not written about that trip yet, but I intend to. We turned it into a family camping adventure and it was a hit, although by the end of the green lane the children were either bored or asleep. Maybe shorter green lanes if the children are coming along. Anyway, another dream fulfilled. Check. 

October - Finally, more than 2 1/2 years after I first started work on it, I took the whole family up too the Peak District to take a walk along the path which I helped build across Brown Knoll in the Peak District. It was pretty chilly and the whole path was a little too long for the littlest legs among us, but we had a great day out together and the weather as kind - no rain! There children enjoyed looking for fossils and patterns in the flag stones which we had laid out and hearing a few stories about how we laid them. I have some good memories from building that path, despite the cold temperatures and frequently atrocious weather!

December - I stole another quick solo visit to the Peak District with a spare day of holiday before Christmas. My wander round Kinder Scout was much needed to clear my head and give me chance to have some quiet time. I only wrote about that a few weeks backs so won't bore you with details, but you can read about it here if you missed it at the time.  

I've not covered everything. There were other family outings, sunrises and sunsets, fun when visiting family over the summer, but this was a highlights reel, not a comprehensive round up of the year. I'll share some plans and hopes for 2019 in the next few weeks. if your intrigued as to whether I can beat 2018 this year then keep tuned!

Richard

Back to the Peaks

At this time of year the alarm which wakes you for sunrise doesn't have to be early. Of course your chances of actually seeing the sunrise are somewhat diminished by the temperamental British weather, but that makes the nice ones all the more special. 

I had taken a day off work and decided that the best way to use my 'adventure day', perhaps ironically, was to go back to my old office; back to the Peak District National Park. I hadn't had a day to myself in the wild for a while and I wanted to make the most of it. To me 'making the most of it' means either out early or out late and with two children waiting for Daddy to come home the preference is always the former. So I set my alarm early enough that I could drive to Edale (which really is where my old office is) and hike up onto Kinder Scout in time to watch the sun rise. 

My plan more or less worked. I was a good way up the southern slopes of Kinder with a few minutes to spare until sunrise when I stopped at a vantage point below Ringing Roger. Overlooking Edale and the Great Ridge it was an ideal spot to watch the sun rise at the mouth of the valley, behind Lose Hill. It was great to be out in the fresh air, watching the world waking up for a short winter day - that never gets old. But my view of the sunrise itself was mediocre, there was just a bit too much cloud. As technically I shouldn't have been able to see it at all I didn't feel to complain too much - the weather forecast had been for thick fog. And anyway, this was just the start of my day.

I often forget how narrow the top of Kinder Scout is at this western point; only a few hundred meters from southern edge to northern lip. Having quickly crossed it, hoping across boggy patches and mini streams, passing the trig point on my way. Reaching the edge I turned west along the northern ridge to reach the head of a stream, Blackden Brook, which would lead my back down again.

A friend had previously remarked about how scenic Blackden Clough was, with its steeply falling stream and many waterfalls and cascades. Ever since that conversation I had been looking for an opportunity to see it for myself. This was my chance and it didn't disappoint, but like many beautiful spots you have to earn the sight. The descent along the stream required hands as well as feet particularly with the rocks slick from over-night rain. 

The tumbling water was clear and strong, the normal peaty darkness of the streams diluted by the freshly fallen. I followed it right down to the valley floor, to the Ashop River. I'd had a relatively crazy plan to make it all the way up to Alport Castles which I quickly realised wasn't going to happen that day - it was an extra 10 km or so, and I while I had been making a reasonable pace, stopping to take photo's and timelapses doesn't cover miles, and I wanted to get back at a reasonable hour to see the family. The long walk would have to wait for another time. 


I turned west and followed the river upstream, until I couldn't without getting wet! The valley slopes transitioned from steep to vertical and I backtracked to get up onto a passable grade. At another time of year, and with some company as a safety back up I'd have happily continued in the river itself, but not in December, flying solo and after a decent rainfall. After a few gentle kilometers, numerous dead sheep and dozens more mini-falls and cascades dropping off the steeply rising land to my left I crossed Fairbrook and started heading back up again. 

The weather up to this point had been changeable, the fog rolling in and out sporadically. As I started up the clough I could see Fairbrook Naze, and then I couldn't - the low cloud obscuring it from view, before breaking and flooding the hillside with sunlight. By the time I reached the top the fog was pretty well set it and remained for the rest of my time up on Kinder that afternoon. 


I crossed the plateau from the top of Fairbrook clough across to Kinder Downfall, a route I had taken before, but I was glad of the reassurance that the Ordnance Survey app on my phone gave me that I heading in the right direction as at times I couldn't see more than about 30 or 40 yards in any direction. I could barely see the downfall when I got there, having followed the Kinder river along its shallow gravelly course for a few hundred yards. The contrast between peat soils and sandy, gravel river bed has always stuck out to me - the Kinder plateau is a funny old place. If you haven't ever visited, I highly recommend it. 


The rest of the trip was really just a return to home. I followed the Pennine way south from the downfall along the edge of the plateau, veering off to pick up the second trig-point of the day and cut off the south-western corner before picking up the path along the southern edge and following past the Woolpacks and Crowden Tower to the head of Grindsbrook Clough. The path down Grindsbrook is a decent and a half, it's one that I have done many times and don't think I'll ever really get tired of it. 

Looking back up at Kinder along the flagstone path which leads you back to Edale and civilization I knew I had used my day off well. 

Richard