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Geograph Blog Recently updated Blog Entries on Geograph British Isles http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/ 2015-06-30T19:56:30+00:00 text/html 2015-06-13T20:50:17+00:00 Bob Harvey Names meaning Waterfall http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/227 There are several naming conventions for waterfalls used in Britain and Ireland, as a result of our rich history of languages. For today, I am going to confine myself to waterfall words, ignoring the various rapids, cascades, and weirs that are not quite waterfalls. In that I am going to let centuries of forebears lead the way and follow the names they have chosen.

 Vey few waterfalls are called 'Waterfall'. Those that are are frequently artificially created, like this one in Jesmond Dene:

 It's far more common for them to be called just 'falls', as here:

 Aysgarth Falls, The Falls of Glomach, Linton Falls, Ennistymon Falls

 But even 'Falls' is just a common English word, and most English waterfalls are called 'Force', from the Viking word 'Foss'. This word is associated with the North of England, and the Lake district, which happen to be both where the waterfalls mostly are and most heavily associated with Danish settlers.

 Force Forge, White Force, Hardraw Force, Force Gill
 Probably the best known of these is High Force:

 Occasionally 'Foss' survives unchanged:

 Nelly Ayre Foss, Thomason Foss

 And, on occasion, the intermediate form 'Fosse'

 Fosse Gill
 This use of the word 'Fosse' is, of course, distinct from the Anglo Saxon usage in 'Fosse Way', which probably means 'ditch' from the Latin 'fossa'

 You will also find the occasional 'Spout', or even 'Snout', which is probably a variant of the same name.

 White Spout, Cautley Spout, Cauldron Snout

 Note that 'Snout', as describing a feature like an animal's nose, need not mean a Waterfall. It might mean a hill or ridge, as in C9444 : Grand Causeway and Aird Snout or NT1815 : Deacon Snout . This is a linguistic convergence, not a connection; rather like the two meanings of 'Fosse'.

 The Scots word 'Linn' occurs several times, and even creeps through border territory into Northumberland. As well it might. 'Linn' has two watery meanings; a waterfall or torrent; or the pool at the base of same. it is a convergence of the Scots Gaelic 'linne' (cognate with Irish 'linn', Welsh 'llyn' - a lake or pool) and Old English 'hlynn' meaning 'torrent' Perhaps the 'waterfall' meaning flowed North, not South.

 Bonnington Linn, Corra Linn, Reekie Linn, Black Linn,

 Harthope Linn, Hareshaw Linn, both in Northumberland. 'Har' is interesting here, it comes from Old English Har "gray bearded, venerable", which has come down to us as 'Hoary'. I suspect that the spray around the waterfalls was seen poetically as a grandfather's beard.

 Where Gaelic survived, in The Highlands and in Ireland, the commonest word for waterfall is 'Eas'. This is another ancient pan-European word, similar to the Old English 'Ea' or 'Aa', meaning river, still seen in Lancashire as 'Ea' and Lincolnshire as 'Eau' . In Modern Gaelic it is used for Waterfall:

 Eas Chia-aig, Eas Lathan, Eas Urchaidh, Eas Liath

 A special case is Eas Fors, which can be translated 'Waterfall Waterfall'

 'Eas' also appears as 'Easan' which can mean either a waterfall or a steeply running stream

 Easan Choineas, Easan Bàna, Easan na Gaibhrie, Easan Dorcha, Easan na Gaibhre

 But what of Welsh, that other celtic language spoken in these isles? The Welsh language has several words for waterfall: rhaeadr; sgwd; pistyll. Sgwd (plural sgydau) occurs only in Brecknockshire, and 'pistyll' is normally only used in mid-Wales.

 Rhaeadr Ewynnol, The Swallow Falls, may be the best known waterfall in Wales

 Rhaeadr-bach and Rhaeadr-fawr are part of the Aber Falls near Abergwyngregyn

 Pistyll Rhaeadr is another of these "waterfall waterfall" names.

 Pistyll Gwyn, Pistyll Gain,

 Sgwd Henrhyd, Sgwd y Pannwr, Sgwd Ddwli

 Updated 2015-06-26 with corrections and additions from user "Karl and Ali". Added Linn and Snout. From more reading added 'Easan' too.

 text/html 2015-06-19T07:52:58+00:00 Bill Nicholls 51.745931331418 -1.2699421280233 Flight of Fancy http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/228 One of the things I have always wanted to do was to take a Balloon flight. I nearly had one as a surprise for my fortieth but the cat got out of the bag and my wife did something else for me. I never forgot and dropped the odd hint now and then. Then on my last birthday I got my surprise a Hot Air Balloon Flight. The hard bit was deciding where to fly from but my wife & I decided Oxford would be the easiest so on April 15th we went along to Oxford to take our flight.
 Take off was around 7:30 and we got to the Oxford Ice Rink for 7am not long after the balloon turned up  and unloaded  followed by the basket  people taking the flight were encouraged to help out  and the Balloon was soon inflating  and in the air . Soon after we were flying over Oxford  seeing the colleges  , the Ratcliffe Camera   and past Magdalen college . Soon the JR was going past  and we watched the rush hour traffic . Then it was over the Oxfordshire countryside   flying over villages like Oakley  and Brill , past a school  and cows who did not give a moo . We even flew past an aeroplane  and an old airfield  along with a manor  then we were past  and down to earth again . We landed just outside Waddeston village and were picked up after having the obligatory glass of bubbly and taken back to Oxford  where we had lunch and went home. Would I do it again, you bet I would it was awesome

 text/html 2015-05-21T08:47:16+00:00 Bill Nicholls 51.071526266653 -1.2663272109647 Walk along the Itchen Way http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/225 Been a while since I wrote one of these for Geograph but I think this one is a worthy one to do. The reason I happened to be here was because my wife was at a conference at the Holiday Inn. This seemed an ideal opportunity to take in some places I have not visited and get a few church's for my Blog. I planned to visit four and if I had time at the end go to the cemetery nearby. As it was I was out walking for over six hours and did not have the time at the end.
 Started out from the Holiday Inn  and was soon out in the country  passing one unfortunate fox on the way . It was not long before the village of Easton came in sight  and the first church  St Mary where I might add I was surprised people in the church spring cleaning . Once I had taken my photo's round the church & churchyard it was off along the Itchen Way  and the next village of Martyr Worthy with St Swithuns Church  . After getting my photos and visiting the War memorial  I linked back with the Itchen way  passed the odd sign  and followed along by the River Itchen for a time  before meeting  the four pigs  and Itchen Abbas . The next church there was St John the Baptist   where you can find the grave of the last man hung for horse theft in England . It was then time for the final church at Avington  St Mary   which I thought was the best church of the visit as it still retained the Box pews . Once Finished in the church & Village it was off out into the countryside and the way back   . Soon I was passing Larkwistle farm  which meant I had only a mile or so to go. At the end I was tired & thirsty as I had not taken any sustenance with me so the little trip to the cemetery went out the window. Here is the GeoTrip to go with the walk Link text/html 2015-05-28T10:04:55+00:00 Roger Jones 52.100282007777 0.85292810437856 Lavenham and backroads to Semer http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/226 I decided to record a short trip, following back roads, between the pretty Suffolk village of Lavenham and the site of the first pic I uploaded to geograph of a dead tree in a pond near Semer.

 I decided to take at least one photo in each grid square I went through on the trip.

 Although I did the trip in a car, it would be an easy bike ride through small roads in the south Suffolk countryside. You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link .

 To see a geo-river of the pics: Link text/html 2015-05-13T19:08:26+00:00 David Howard 51.866253790451 -0.64348833683326 The season begins http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/224 After getting new squares every week throughout the off season when it gets dark by 4 I was quite pleased with myself. Each year I have plans for a long journey or two, and each year they get longer simply as the closer ones get done. This year's list were all 80 miles minimum and include a new myriad, north record, distance record and anything else that comes to me on top. Unfortunately the exact moment the clocks went forward I was put on new tablets which had the primary effect of tiring me out, and although I carried on it cut down my scope by about 50%. They're gradually wearing off now and after half length trips to new territory so far have now done my first substantial journey to Andover  and started the ball rolling. It's early days though with plenty of time to catch up and only one serious journey required for the quota, and always taking other places in between.

 So far this year I have covered some or plenty of Kent , Surrey , Hertfordshire , Oxfordshire , Sussex , Buckinghamshire , Berkshire , Hampshire  and a tiny edge of Befordshire I didn't take as I'd done it already. I also got to Ardingly for this probably now unique pre-Worboys sign  which I'd completely forgotten about until I was looking at new photos and saw one there and reminded me. I also passed from the high 60s for total squares to a high of 58th last week, which is pretty good considering. November sees my ten years of digital photography, with every single square taken since then, with old ones only added once I've got them again otherwise the comparison of random film photos taken since 1968 and slews of digital with no limits would not be comparable. Ideally I wanted a second profile for the pre-2005 material but the system does not allow for it. And half my trips didn't even include the camera, and some which did only provided a few pictures as back then I mainly collected used train tickets and spent most of my effort going to stations and asking for them. Luckily my friend filmed a few trips to places including Birmingham and Yorkshire and I converted them to stills, thin and slightly vague but obviously photos. Otherwise they stretch from Plymouth to the Isle of Skye, with a main patch in Devon where I went every year from the late 60s to early 90s and a few other times, the Cotswolds where we went regularly and returned in 2013, Stratford on Avon, my first colour photo usage with the school trip in 1969, Oxford where I lived from 1988-9, and go to most years, with others randomly across Essex, Sussex, Kent, and a holiday in the Cotswolds in 1998 where I covered from Bath to Wootton Wawen in a few days but the camera let light in on some of them. There were also the remainder of Scotland, the first trip from Edinburgh to Skye in 1968 and the following in Melrose in 1969. I also usually make an annual trip to the seaside,  2011,  2012,  2013,  2014. I am a lifetime collector and personal record breaker, so whatever I can add in any field is included, and my photo map is the second after my train ticket collecting which gets me out as far and wide as possible, although with a smaller car, fewer friends around to take me to places and less energy can no longer manage the 200 mile plus each way trips in a single day. Had digital photography been around in the 80s and 90s I would probably have done the same as now had this site and the internet also existed, and had one of the top maps on the site. But as I'm only ever competing with myself and not others will keep working at beating my own records, and try and add the odd picture of the week nomination wherever possible. I chose the photo and square based on the old Geograph principle of the middle of nowhere is wherever people haven't taken more than a handful of photos. The area just north of London is a fertile patch which is very useful for me.  text/html 2015-04-15T18:57:19+00:00 Gerald England Walker Fold to Godley Hill http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/223  This is one of several National Cycle Network Mileposts placed by Sustrans on the former Godley Junction to Apethorn railway line section of the Trans Pennine Trial and National Cycle Route 62. This one is of "The Cockerel" design by Iain McColl. When I photographed it in 2014  it hadn't been painted. I understand that pupils from a local school helped to choose the colours used.

  A group of riders on the Trans Pennine Trail just west of Green Lane.

  After passing under Green Lane bridge the Trans Pennine Trail leaves the route of the former Apethorn to Godley railway line to follow Green Lane via the path behind the photographer.

 The wooden finger post on the right points out the route. It has been foreshortened since 2007 . A pair of notices on the left give information about the trail and carry a warning about the use of unauthorised motor vehicles.

 A footpath to the right continues to follow the old railway track for about another mile past an old turntable bed and over Brookfold Lane until it is blocked off just before the junction with the main railway line at Godley.

  Approaching the footpath junction at Green Lane from Godley. In the undergrowth on the left are some moss covered concrete posts left over from when the railway was still operative.

  I'm not sure what their original purpose was. It has been suggested that the brackets could have carried troughing for cabling.

  Approaching the Godley Turntable.

  Godley Turntable is where trains heading for Fiddler's Ferry power station via Warrington Arpley would exchange locomotives. The whole point of the Cheshire Lines railway from Godley Junction to Apethorn was to carry Yorkshire coal to Lancashire for burning in one way or another.

  Originally the trains were steam hauled but after electrification of the Woodhead line in the 1950s the class 76 electric locos would draw the train onto the branch and un-couple before running around and departing; subsequently, a diesel loco would appear and hook-on for the remainder of the trip. Freight services over Woodhead ended in 1981 and this line became redundant.

  For many years the old turntable has been almost completely hidden by undergrowth. Early in 2015 a team of volunteers cleared out the area to reveal the turntable pit.

  For views of the turntable in action see Old Hyde: Link

  A National Cycle Network Milepost of the "Fossil Tree" design has been placed by Sustrans near the Godley Turntable..

 Why here?

 The National Cycle Network Route 62 leaves the trackbed of the former Godley Junction to Apethorn railway at Green Lane. The footpath east from here leads over Brookfold Bridge and comes to a dead end where it meets the Glossop line at Godley East. The only way off is by scrambling precariously down the side of Brookfold Bridge, not something to be done lightly especially carrying a bicycle.

  Looking along the line of the former Cheshire Lines railway from Godley Junction to Apethorn just west of Brookfold Bridge. On the left behind the trees was a turntable where trains heading from the Yorkshire coalfields for Fiddler's Ferry power station would exchange locomotives.

 On the right is a National Cycle Network Milepost which appears misplaced as route 62 and the Trans Pennine Trail isn't reached until Green Lane and there is no proper access from this side.

  Brookfold Farm viewed from the bridge over Brookfold Lane. Brookfold Wood on the left hides the Manchester to Glossop railway line through Hattersley.

  The view through the metal fence at the end of the Godley Junction to Apethorn railway line at what was once the Godley Junction marshalling yard and the former trackbed which leads to the mainline from Manchester to Glossop.

 See how the area looked in its heyday on Old Hyde: Link

  The remains of the platform at Godley Junction serving the Cheshire Lines track to Apethorn, Stockport Tiviot Dale and beyond. The main purpose of the line was to carry Yorkshire coal to power stations in Lancashire such as Fiddler's Ferry so very few passenger trains used the line. One that did though was an overnight express from Marylebone to Liverpool.

  Below the embankment of the former Godley Junction to Apethorn railway line a pond is visible in the field below.

  Looking down Brookfold Lane from the top of Brookfold Bridge. A wooden fence has been erected along the side of the embankment and some of the undergrowth has been cleared away. It remains a rather precarious descent from the former railway track except for the more sure-footed of people and it is not an official right of way.

  Brookfold Bridge carried the Godley Junction to Apethorn railway line over Brookfold Lane. The old trackbed is now a footpath but this section is not part of the Trans Pennine Trail. Access to the trail westwards is best made via Firethorn Drive  and a squeeze stile . Access southwards is best made by carrying on up the lane and through a gate  on to a track that leads to Green Lane. Climbing up the side of the bridge is not recommended.

  A footpath leads from Brookfold Lane to Station Road. Alas there appears to be no footbridge over the Godley Brook.

  In the foreground is the Godley Brook emerging from underneath the embankment of the former Godley Junction to Apethorn railway line. In the background is the Kerry Foods (formerly Walls) factory at Godley Hill.

  The fields behind the electricity substation on Station Road, Godley are grazing land. A footpath leads to Brookfold Lane, although there appears to be no footbridge over the Godley Brook.

  Kerry Way is a new road opened in 2014 to access the Kerry Foods factory. It will eventually lead to a new light industrial area being created on land at Hattersley, but for now there is access only as far as a farm.

 This used to be the Walls sausage factory until it was taken over by Kerry Foods in 1994. The main operations at the site include the processing and packaging of pork and bacon products such as sausage and sliced bacon, white meat products such as turkey rashers and distribution of some 700 tonnes of food products each week.

  The top of Godley Hill Road leading from the Kerry Foods factory has been reduced to a footpath following the construction last year of a new road, Kerry Way, which can be seen on the other side of the fence.

  Looking back towards Kerry Foods.

  The War Memorial at Godley Hill, unveiled in 1920, is a small obelisk made of granite in the centre of a circular flower bed. The area is surrounded by a low wall. Access is through small metal gates, both of which bear the date 1953 (possibly because they were placed there for the Coronation of Elizabeth II). In front of the memorial, on the flower bed, is a cube-shaped white receptacle for holding flowers bearing the words "In memory of the fallen of Godley Hill"

 Local volunteers spent time tiding up the flower beds and planting new bulbs in 2014.

  The bench outside Godley Hill War Memorial is badly in need of repair. See how it looked in 2010: .

 View this journey as a Geotrip Link text/html 2015-02-22T14:54:41+00:00 Philip Halling 52.107608707246 -2.2277322059088 A Circular Walk on the Severn Way http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/221 The Severn Way follows the course of the River Severn from its source high on Plynlimon in mid Wales, from where it flows to the east, entering England and flowing through Shropshire before turning south and flowing through Worcestershire and Gloucestershire. If following the path downstream the way ends in Bristol which is a little odd in that the city is on the River Avon, not the Severn, though I suppose this is to reward the walker with an objective, rather then finishing somewhere on the riverbank when the river's estuary becomes the Bristol Channel.

 Between Severn Stoke and Kempsey in south Worcestershire the Severn Way splits offering the walk the option of following the riverbank or taking the shorter route which omits a bend in the river. This provides the option of a fine circular walk of approximately five miles, though it is possible to shorten the walk slightly.

 Starting from SO848444 at the end of Ham Lane, a country lane which leads off the A38 from by the war memorial in Severn Stoke, one walks north following the bank of the river. After about half a kilometre the Severn Way bifurcates, the original route forks right, however, it is now possible to follow a permissive path following the riverbank. This riverbank path is now signposted as the Severn Way. Walking this riverside walk one passes Cliffey Wood and Cleevelode, both of which are across the river on the west side. At Cleevelode there is a riverside caravan park. On the day of my walk the caravans were perfectly mirrored in the river. Incidentally, the name 'lode' appears at many locations on the River Severn, lode being a former crossing point. Continuing on the riverbank until near Oak Farm the path now rejoins the original route of the Severn Way; it is here the river is left as one turns right and after a short distance the path emerges on the country road, Old Road South. At the road, turn right and walk to its junction with the A38. Take care crossing the road and turn right. Walk on the pavement on the other side. Once round the corner, after a short distance one crosses back over the A38 and follows the Severn Way signs which passes gravel workings being undertaken by the company, Lafarge Tarmac. The small hamlet of Clifton is soon reached, as an alternative it is possible to briefly leave the Severn Way to pass through the hamlet. Much of the land here was owned by the Earls of Coventry who used to live in nearby Croome Court, now in the care of the National Trust. Evidence of their ownership is not hard to find even today, I spotted inscribed stones on a cottage and a farm building, both stating it was built by the Earl of Coventry. Returning to the Severn Way the path crosses the site entrance to the gravel workings along with a conveyor for transporting the aggregates. The footpath follows the field headland with fine views across arable fields with the Malvern Hills lining the western horizon. Sheepcote Farm is passed and then a farm track takes one back to the River Severn where turning left and retracing the earlier steps one returns to the starting point at the end of Ham Lane. You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link . text/html 2015-03-31T18:17:24+00:00 Rudi Winter 52.472091966857 -3.7754372430039 Where does Aberystwyth's drinking water come from http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/222 For a gentle start to the season, I had a stroll up the service track  to Llyn Llygad Rheidol  from Nant-y-moch . I knew that the beautiful glacial lake tucked away on the north side of Pumlumon Fawr  was part of Aberystwyth's drinking water supply, but I hadn't appreciated quite how important it is in this respect. During the walk, I had a rummage around the dam   and spillway   and on the way back investigated a stream abstraction point on the Maesnant , which tops up the water supply.

 Back at home, I read up on how the drinking water supply of the region was developed over the years as well as on drought plans in the event that we get an unusually "nice" summer. Here's the story:

 North Ceredigion is supplied with drinking water through the water works at Bont-goch SN6886, which are fed with raw water from the Llyn Llygad Rheidol  and Llyn Craig-y-pistyll  reservoirs. The supply is supplemented by stream abstractions from the Maesnant  and the Nant y Moch  (photo: Nigel Brown) as well as two groundwater bore holes near Lovesgrove SN6281.

 Llyn Llygad Rheidol is a natural lake in a glacial hollow on the north face of Pumlumon Fawr which has been dammed to increase capacity. Aberystwyth Town Council, then responsible for water supply to the town, built a 16-mile pipeline to transport untreated water from Llyn Llygad Rheidol directly to Aberystwyth in the 1870s.

 The separate Aberystwyth Rural District Council, serving the villages of north Ceredigion, took a water supply from the Afon Leri, regulated by their dam at Llyn Craig-y-pistyll. They also built the treatment works at Bont-goch in 1939.

 The two local authorities had begun to make joint plans when the responsibility for the water supply was transferred to the new Cardiganshire Water Board in 1962. In 1967, the water board built a new pipeline connecting the two reservoirs, siphoned around the base of the Nant-y-moch hydroelectric reservoir, which had been built between 1957 and 1961. This new pipeline replaced the old direct one to Aberystwyth to allow processing of all drinking water at Bont-goch. Link

 The water from the two small reservoirs is generally sufficient to supply the needs of north Ceredigion. Dŵr Cymru, the publicly owned water company now in charge of water supply to the area, has a drought plan which establishes that the supply would be topped up by transfers from Nant-y-moch directly into the pipeline linking the two drinking water reservoirs using a temporary installation during a severe drought Link . This has not been necessary to date.

 You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link .
 Trip profile: Link text/html 2014-08-30T20:53:41+00:00 Philip Halling 52.188522262691 -2.2281458481092 Climbing the tower of Worcester Cathedral http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/213 Climbing the tower of Worcester Cathedral

 Having visited Hereford last week and climbed the cathedrals tower I thought it about time I climbed the tower of Worcester Cathedral. I have been up the tower before but many years ago, it must be at least thirty years ago. I work in the city of Worcester and the sound of the cathedrals bells are ever present. With the exception of Durham, few of Englands cathedrals are in a more attractive setting, with Worcester Cathedral overlooking the River Severn. For cricket fans the cathedral tower is a familiar sight as it forms the backdrop to New Road Cricket Ground. The cathedral used to feature on the reverse of the £20 note (1999-2007), along with Worcesters most famous son, Sir Edward Elgar.

 The cathedral tower is the third to grace the building and was built in 1374. The first tower fell down in 1175 and the second was taken down in 1350 as it was unsafe. The present tower is 52m (170ft) high to the roof, with the pinnacles adding a further 10m making a total of 62m (202ft). The tower weights 4,500 tonnes and has 16 bells. Whilst on top of the tower a wedding had just taken place and with all the bells ringing I could feel the tower move.

 There are extensive views from the top, making climbing the 235 steps worthwhile. The view to the south extends down the Severn valley with the distant Cotswold Hills a blue line on the horizon; to the south-east Bredon Hill is clearly visible with the Malvern Hills unmistakable to the south-west. Just beyond the Malvern Hills is May Hill, situated in Gloucestershire on the northern edge of the Forest of Dean. To the west, and lying to the north of the Malvern Hills, are the Suckley Hills. To the north-west are the Abberley Hills with the Abberley Clock Tower standing sentinel. To the north the view extends to the high ground bordering Birmingham and the Black Country, in particular the Clent Hills. Only to the east is the view foreshortened by the suburbs of Worcester, the Rainbow Hill and Warndon areas rise to some 60 metres above sea level. Immediately below, the city of Worcester is at ones feet and in particular the River Severn flowing past. The river cuts the city in two due to its floodplain which creates a green corridor, within this is Near Road, Worcestershire County Cricket Clubs home.
 I once read a description of Worcester which described it lying on the boundary of lowland and upland England. Standing on the top of the tower this is not my impression, it feels that it sits in a bowl with higher ground above 500 feet in three directions.

 Its thought during part of the Battle of Worcester in 1651, Charles II viewed the action from the tower, it is interesting to ponder how much the landscape has changed in the intervening 360 odd years. The city of Worcester has changed and grown enormously in that time, but I wonder how different and how much the more distant landscape has changed?
 text/html 2014-12-30T18:04:18+00:00 Vieve Forward 51.442466587627 -1.922255716063 A visit to the derelict former RAF Yatesbury air base http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/220 It was one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions that have consequences. That Saturday morning, 6th December 2014, I was off to the annual Christmas Fayre in Devizes, and because the weather was bright and frosty, I decided to make the most of the petrol and go for a walk on my way back.

 I decided on Yatesbury because it was more or less on my route, and because, when I looked at my worn-out OS map covered in pink highlighter, I realised to my surprise that there were grid squares there that I hadnt geographed yet, quite a few of which were up for TPoints and third or fourth visitor points.

 I have visited Yatesbury many times. One winter, I walked through Yatesbury every Sunday on a route from Broad Hinton to Avebury, but this didnt take me near the former air base. But Id been near it on other walks, and the space near a concrete blockhouse close to the junction of The Avenue and the lane to Nolands provides a handy parking spot for walkers. While there, Id seen the old buildings on the other side of the road. I knew they had something to do with the war, but Id taken no interest in them. Another geographer, Brian Robert Marshall (BRM), had no doubt already covered them: such things were right up his street, so I left them to him. But instead of starting my walk in Yatesbury, I decided to do a circular walk starting from a layby not far from the Beckhampton roundabout on the south side of the A4.

 Following a track that was once the original London-Bath road through a beautiful beech plantation , I soon emerged at the top of Knoll Down, from where I could see Yatesbury Field spread out to my right down below. I continued for some way along the ridge, until I reached a round barrow that I wanted to photograph. From a distance, I could see a concrete slab protruding from the top of it and a kind of concrete gully coming out of the side. Coming closer, I saw that the concrete in the gully had partly fallen down and it was blocked with weeds, which prevented me from exploring it further. I had no idea what this concrete affair was for, assuming that some farmer had put it there, perhaps as a shelter for lambs, though why he should damage a scheduled monument, I couldnt think. I took some photos and moved on .

 From the ridge, I could see Yatesbury air strip . The windsock told me it was still in use, but I saw no planes taking off, and dismissed it as just another of the tiny leisure airfields in which Wiltshire abounds.

 I was now heading in the direction of Cherhill monument, but at the junction of the track that leads to the Iron Age fort on top of the hill, I turned right to cross the A4 and take the minor road to Yatesbury. Just after the bend in the lane, there were a few buildings that looked as if they might be leftovers from the war, but I hadnt sufficient interest to photograph them. This is a lesson I am constantly failing to learn: that you should photograph everything that sparks your curiosity, even if you dont know what it is at the time. They lay beside a drive which was barred by a Private sign, and looked as if they had been commandeered for use as farm buildings.

 Just past this point, I could see the derelict buildings of the former RAF Yatesbury camp in the distance across the fields . If I had never noticed them before, it was because whenever I had come this way before, it was by car. Now, they looked really interesting: since joining geograph, I have become very interested in derelict buildings, which I consider to have a certain sort of beauty, and a ghostly sort of fascination. Looking at my map and realising that they werent accessible from the Jugglers Lane bridleway, I toyed with the idea of cutting across the fields by way of what I took to be a track. But it turned out on closer examination to be just a field boundary, so I scrapped the idea.

 Further down the lane, and nearing the right-hand bend for Yatesbury village, I could see Hangar 45, a huge redbrick building which I took to be one of the wartime hangars restored . It was in immaculate condition. The gate was locked, and although it was a Saturday, I could hear a vehicles engine running inside. I took some pictures, both of the side and the offices at the back, feeling sure that it had been covered before (and later being proved right), and continued on to the crossroads, where I turned left into Jugglers Lane.

 To my right were the concrete blockhouse and the patch of empty ground which dog-walkers use for parking. The high metal barriers that had once surrounded the blockhouse were now partly torn down. I didnt photograph the blockhouse because it looked too ugly (another mistake), and I was sure BRM had already done so. It did cross my mind to wonder why metal security fencing had been erected, though, but I didnt bother to pursue the thought.

 On the other side of the road, the derelict corrugated iron building seemed to have decayed very much since my last visit. Now there was hardly anything left of it. But as I said, I dismissed it as uninteresting and in any case was sure BRM had already recorded it.

 I thought I would go down Jugglers Lane a little way, to see if I could get a better view of the derelict buildings I had seen from the road. I walked along an avenue of very tall trees  until I came upon a pillbox  which I didnt remember seeing when I last passed this way a very long time ago. It had all its orifices blocked with concrete. Despite being pretty sure that BRM would have beaten me to it, I photographed it just in case, and continued a short way along the lane.

 I should explain that there are two tracks running in parallel from the crossroads as far as the pillbox. The one I was on is metalled, while the other is not. It is the other lane that carries the bridleway past the back of the buildings I was approaching, first of which was a large white house which was clearly lived in. I continued along the metalled lane, but just before the house it was blocked by a gate with a Private sign on it.

 To my left, I could see the derelict buildings of the air base. The one nearest was in a terrible state of disrepair and seemed to be on the point of collapse. It looked as if it might have been a hangar , but the roof beams had partly fallen in, and whatever had covered the roof was now missing, leaving the skeletal frame open to the elements. There was a wide band of rough ground to the left of the lane, so I crossed far enough over this to take some photos, making sure I regained the metalled lane before I was spotted.

 Back at the crossroads, I continued towards Yatesbury, taking a photo of the Rectory  as I passed in case I needed it to bag my grid square, then I continued my walk back to my car.

 The following day, I uploaded the photos that would need least research in order to tick off more grid squares and secure more points of one kind or another. Later in the week I began to upload the photographs which required more research, and I came up with quite a few surprises. The first was that the concrete thing in the round barrow on top of Knoll Down turned out not to be something installed by a farmer, but was in fact an anti-aircraft emplacement built during the Second World War. Link That figured: the round barrow stood on the highest part of the ridge, with a good view for miles both to the north over the Yatesbury plain with its airfield, and to the south over the Marlborough Downs, whence enemy aircraft would have approached from the sea. I wondered if the MoD had had to put in a request to alter the scheduled monument (it had been scheduled in 1925). Perhaps it already had a big gouge dug into the top by the antiquaries of the 19th century, although Wiltshire and Swindon Historic Environment Record makes no mention of the notorious Dean Merewether, and gives no references prior to aerial photographs taken in 1946. While excavating the barrow prior to installing the gun emplacement, fragments of human bone and shale and pottery were found, including a Bronze Age beaker. Link

 The second surprise was that the dilapidated hangar I had photographed had originally been built during the First World War. Not only that, but it was Grade II* listed. For those who dont know, many of the most beautiful houses in England only have Grade II listing: to attract Grade II* listing, a building has to be very special indeed. Yet this hangar was practically disintegrating, and looked as if it wouldnt last another winter. What had been going on to merit all those high metal fences and streamers of black plastic flying in the wind, yet resulting in the apparent complete abandonment of the site?

 As I looked into it more, I discovered that there were three Grade II* listed hangars on the site, including the wreck of a building that I had seen opposite the parking space at the beginning of the drive, and that there had been two air bases, the East and the West Camps, both going back to 1916. I came across some videos on YouTube made by John Grech Link Link Link (collections of photos really) of the derelict buildings in the camp, and was fascinated by the eeriness of the place which must once have been teeming with life. From one of these, I discovered that the blockhouse at the junction had been the main guard room for the West Camp. I looked again at BRMs photograph: he had described it as a blockhouse, so not having a photograph of my own to upload, I put in a suggestion for a change to his description, which he accepted .

 The third surprise explained why the site looked as if builders had downed tools one day and gone home, leaving it to rot, with the metal fences falling down, the hangar roofs falling in, and not even taking their scaffolding planks away with them.

 It appeared that a Moroccan businessman by the name of Jamal Khanfer had bought the site in 1998 and planned to convert the former air base buildings into luxury houses and flats, and to build five new houses to the north of the site. Link According to his agent Mike Milton, from Milton Architects in Marlborough, Khanfer had bought the site to use for flying before he realised the history behind it. After a lengthy public enquiry, his proposals for development were accepted and he started work, but his plans were thwarted in 2008 when, after the financial crash, his funding was pulled, and work ceased. Although by then he had conserved one hangar of the western pair, he clearly had not provided adequate protection from the elements for the other. (Im not sure whether he owns the eastern hangar). In March 2014, he re-submitted his plans for developing the site Link but since they did not include proposals for the future use of the conserved hangar, revised plans were requested. In the meantime, although he was served by English Heritage with an Urgent Works Notice to arrest further decline in the condition of the derelict western hangar, before the works were implemented there was a substantial roof collapse. English Heritage, seeing that it is beyond repair, has now given permission for its demolition. Link

 I dont know what made me sadder, Khanfers neglect or English Heritages failure to protect the hangar. But that would have been the end of the matter as far as I was concerned had it not been for another suggestion Id made for one of BRMs photos while Id perused those he had uploaded for RAF Yatesbury. BRM had contended that the trees in the avenue leading away from the guard room were oaks , but I was sure they were not, and suggested beeches. BRM responded that as no-one could be certain unless they went back there in the summer and identified them from their leaves, and until then he was sticking to his description. The moderator weighed in, saying they were not beeches, because beeches had smooth bark, and suggested ash. This was on the Thursday. It must have been on my mind all day Friday, because when Saturday dawned fine and bright, I decided to go back to Yatesbury and find out. It may have been nearly midwinter, but at least I could guess from the buds on the twigs and the leaves and seeds on the ground what the trees were. Not only that, but I wanted to go back and get a better photograph of the gun emplacement in the round barrow, and if possible, get a closer look at the ruined RAF base.

 So I set off on Saturday morning and, parking in the same layby as before, made my way swiftly up to the round barrow . This time, I pushed my way past the nettles and rubble and into the gun emplacement itself . There was another surprise: a little bunker behind the emplacement  , where I imagined the soldiers sheltering from the cold on long winter nights, with what looked like a fireplace too , though realistically, the bunker may simply have been used to store ammunition.

 When I emerged from the bunker, I looked out over to the south, from where the bombers would have arrived, and thought of those men keeping their spirits up through many a night on that freezing spot on the Downs. I thought how brave they were, and how much we owe to them. I looked in the other direction over the modern Yatesbury airfield, and as if to make my imaginings real, a small plane took off, banked around and flew over the Knoll.

 I went back to the car and drove on to Yatesbury, where I parked opposite what I now knew to be the main guardroom for the West Camp . No longer just an ugly blockhouse, it had become the place where sentries would have stood and challenged everyone who wanted to go along the lane. One iron gatepost still remained of the gate which they would have guarded . I took a picture of a hump in the ground behind it, and only realised was a Stanton air raid shelter when I came to upload the photo later .

 My first priority was to have a good look at the hangar nearest the junction. This was in terrible condition. Even though I had never paid it much attention previously, I noticed that it was in a far worse state than on my visits prior to 2014. I clearly remembered a reasonably solid wall clad with green corrugated iron. Now most of it had disappeared, leaving a few of what looked like huts at ground level and some glassless windows above. The roof was entirely missing.

 I was able to get a very close look at what was left of the building and wander round inside it. The vast concrete floor remained, with the iron groove for the hangar doors , and the ancillary buildings on either side, but apart from that, it was just a shell of the building   . How sad that it had survived two world wars and been listed by English Heritage, and yet in the last few years had perished through sheer neglect!

 I walked a little way along what used to be the runway, which extended west in the direction of the other hangars and buildings of West Camp. From there, I could see the hangar I had photographed the previous week more clearly, and also the other hangar in the listing, which was black and looked remarkably intact. I desperately wanted to get closer and have a good look, and contemplated walking along the field boundary. But the ground was very rough, and I might have been seen and stopped, so I decided to return to last weeks viewpoint and try to get a better picture from there.

 I set off along the lane, looking at the trees as I went. What were they? They definitely werent oaks I could tell that from the shape. They werent beech: the lack of coppery beech leaves and beech nuts beneath my feet made that clear. But they werent ash either: they didnt have those typical black ash buds. I could see no seeds of any kind lying on the ground but I picked up a leaf. It was more or less triangular, roughly like the ace of spades in shape. I put it in my rucksack together with a twig to take home and identify later.

 Further down the lane, I took another look at the pillbox, which was a hexagonal Type 22 pillbox. The reason for its position here now became clear: its purpose was to defend the northern perimeter of the West Camp and to protect it from anyone who might have managed to get past the guardroom.

 Next I walked over into the rough grass again to try to get a better photograph of the dilapidated hangar. I took some shots with the feeble zoom on my camera, but these turned out to be no better than the shots I had taken the previous week. Besides which, I could see cars parked outside the white house, one of which had its engine running, and I did not wish to be seen. Id decided that I would try to get into the site from further along Jugglers Lane, and if I was seen now, that would put an end to my plan. Normally, I dont so much as deviate from a public footpath, but when as site is as interesting as this, I am prepared to trespass if necessary. If I am seen, I apologise, and sometimes find that the subterfuge was unnecessary; but this time, I was determined to get photos of this site by hook or crook, and I didnt want to jeopardise my chances from the outset.

 So I retreated to the pillbox. From there, the public bridleway follows the track to the north of it. I passed with the house on my left, and followed a trimmed hedge and fence for a short distance until it gave way to wilder hedgerows beyond. I could glimpse the camp over to my left but the bushes were too dense for me to get through.

 A little further on I came upon another pillbox hidden in the bushes  that BRM had missed. It was another Type 22 hexagonal box, but this time the loopholes hadnt been blocked up and you could see that they were of TF744 066 pattern. Link The whole pillbox was covered in moss which glowed bright green in the afternoon sunshine.

 And then, eureka! Just beyond the pillbox was a well-worn path through the hedge, over a broken-down barbed wire fence, and across the adjacent rough field towards the camp. I had found my way in!

 I get the same thrill from trespassing as I did when I was a child nearly sixty years ago. There is the feeling of butterflies in the stomach at the possibility of getting caught, and the burning excitement to see what you came to see before you are spotted. It is as if a primeval hunting instinct kicks in, and yet you know that as long as you are careful, you are doing no real harm, apart from possibly annoying somebody. And being an adult, you are less likely to take unnecessary risks and put yourself in danger (though I did have some warning shots fired in my direction once), which is partly why I didnt enter any of the buildings.

 But before I go on, here is an outline of the history of the camp:

 In 1916, the Royal Flying Corps developed two airfields at Yatesbury specialising in training Corps Reconnaissance pilots. Two camps were established, one on each side of the minor road from the A4 to the village itself: this one, the West Camp, comprised the officers and mens quarters with the usual facilities and three large hangars, while the East Camp was adjacent to the A4, where the present airstrip is, and had hangars and workshops. The airfields opened in November 1916 with No. 55 Reserve Squadron arriving from Filton, equipped with the Avro 504A and the Scout D.

 Although the war ended in November 1918, training continued into 1919, when squadrons were sent to Yatesbury to be disbanded. The Station finally closed in early 1920, and the land was returned to its original owners and reverted to farmland until 1936.

 In 1935, Bristol Aeroplane Company (BAC), which had been operating a school at Filton in Bristol since 1923, purchased part of the former western airfield and built a flying school, which opened in early 1936. This was the No.10 Elementary and Reserve Flying Training School (Wing Commander Guy Gibson VC trained here in 1936). Various facilities were built including an officers mess and accommodation blocks. In 1939 the airfield was taken over by the Air Ministry and brought up to wartime standards, which included the construction of the Bellman and Blister hangars, the Stanton air raid shelters, and a Sommerfield Track of steel mesh matting which was laid on the two runways. Training was carried out with Tiger Moth aircraft. This continued until the outbreak of war in September 1939, when pilot training was transferred away to other stations to allow the field to be used for training airborne wireless operators.

 Meanwhile, in 1938/9 on the site of the East Camp, the RAF, realising that it would need a large number of radio operators, built the No. 2 Electrical and Wireless School, (later renamed No. 2 Radio School). The theory of wireless and Morse code were taught on the ground and Dominie and Proctor aircraft were used for the aerial training. The trainees were billeted in a large number of wooden huts; over 50,000 men successfully passed out of the school between 1939 and 1945. In 1942 a heavily guarded compound was built at the eastern end of the camp to teach the new top-secret radar. This was originally known as No. 9 RDF School but was later called the No. 9 Radio School. Over 19,000 men and women were trained there.

 At the end of the war air training largely ceased, and the camp was used for basic training for a while. The Flying School at the East Camp was briefly used to train pilots but in 1947 was abandoned. From 1954 to 1958 it was converted to RAF Cherhill, 27 Group Headquarters; with the start of the Cold War the camp had become busy again, mainly with the training of radar operators, mechanics and fitters. Large numbers of men on National Service passed through the camp, but with the end of National Service in 1961 demand reduced. In 1965 the camp was finally closed. During this period, over 70,000 personnel had been successfully trained there. In 1969, the wooden huts were demolished and the land returned to agriculture, with the exception of the gymnasium, the only brick building on the camp; the Flying School and buildings were abandoned and left to rot. Link Link Now I was about to see for myself how the site had fared since then.

 I crossed the small field of rough ground diagonally towards a gap between the high metal fencing which surrounded the site and the first building on my left. At the time, I didnt know what each building was used for. Many are identified in John Grechs videos, but I couldnt remember which was which, so I just photographed each one as I came to it, hoping to identify them when I got home. To cut a long story short, I will identify them now as I describe my route through the site.

 To my left was the main generator house , and between it and me was a high redbrick wall , with a space behind it which Grech identifies as the M/T (Motor Transport) Section parking bay, from the original stencilling on the wall Link although it is not next to the M/T shed as you might expect. Looking at the photos now, I can see that the wall had originally been three sides of a long covered shed, the roof of which has now gone.

 Through the windows in the generator house, I could see a huge rusty metal girder, but I decided not to investigate it now, because I wanted to get as many photographs of the whole site before my presence was discovered. I peered round the corner of the generator house, and found myself on a tarmacked drive, obviously a continuation of the one starting at the main guardroom and running through the gate marked Private. It was covered with moss which was spongy underfoot.

 Thinking it best to explore the buildings farthest away from the house first, I turned right on to this road, and started to walk up it. On my right was the temporary metal security fence, and on my left was a green space in which were several humps which reminded me of large recently-dug graves or small long barrows . At the end of each hump was a concrete box or a construction made of laths covered with plastic. It turned out these were Stanton air raid shelters, Link each of them big enough for fifty men, the excrescences being either the entrances of the emergency escape hatches (I did not venture close enough to ascertain which).

 Just beyond these on my left was the single-storey concrete-rendered brick block of flight offices . These offices were ranged on either side of a long corridor .

 On my right, beyond the high metal fence, I could see two buildings in the rough field I had crossed earlier . One looked like a redbrick toilet block, but was in fact the small arms armoury. The other, half-covered in ivy, was the small arms firing range.

 Continuing along the mossy drive, and just before the western boundary fence at the end, was what looked like a small swimming pool, but turned out to be the bases water storage tank , capable of holding 200 gallons (900 litres) of water. This brought to mind a comment by one of the airmen stationed at the East Camp, who had said that the baths were marked with a line and must not be overfilled. Doubtless, with so many men stationed at the camps, water was at a premium, and of course extra was needed in case of fires caused by bombing.

 Looking back to my left, I could see the main accommodation block, a two-story concrete-rendered brick building with metal window-frames , built on an E-shaped plan, with the long side facing the afternoon sun.

 Walking to the end of this, I peeped around the far corner, and saw some brick ancillary buildings . Venturing further towards them, I saw on my left, at the end of the office block I had seen earlier, the stations squash court . The roof had originally been glazed to let in the light from above, and when John Grech photographed it in 2010 the interior was preserved in excellent condition. Link

 Returning to the front of the accommodation block, I carried on until I came to the combined officers mess and office building. This was the architectural highlight of RAF Yatesbury West Camp. It was built in 1936 by the architect Cecil Jones from rendered brick with flat roofs and steel-framed windows. The complex was praised by Flight magazine in 1936 as a model school whose pattern few will equal and none better, and a 2003 report by English Heritage described the building as a crisp modern composition by Cecil Jones, the most significant of all the buildings erected for the 50 Civilian Service Flying Training Schools. Link Link

 A billiards room and a mess/ante-room for use by the instructors and officer pupils faced the garden front on the southwest side. Now, of course, it is in a sorry state , although its former grandeur can be imagined from its façade  which faced the evening sun and is marked by a taller projecting block to the centre, which had french windows with fanlights above them set in four recessed semi-circular arches. Link Nowadays, there is a high unruly hedge blocking the view from those windows, but perhaps when the base was in use, you could sit there sipping your gin and watch the sun go down over the Cherhill monument. I couldnt help noticing that the soil was much softer near the hedge, and wondered whether there had once been an ornamental pond there.

 Turning the corner at the end of the façade, the elevation facing south-east towards the airfield is only slightly less impressive  with its four projecting bay windows. This was the watch office and flying control: here were the offices for the chief flying instructor and time-keeper, and the pilots' changing-rooms. The aircraft control tower is on top of this building. Looking round the far corner of this building, I could see the kitchens at the back of the officers mess .

 Walking parallel to the façade of the watch office in an easterly direction, I passed another block, this time the operations block , which contained more administration offices and the training facilities. I was now walking on the concrete of the disused runway , which was overgrown with weeds and brambles, and scattered with debris abandoned by the builders when theyd left: bricks, pieces of wood, bits of plastic, and piles of spoil.

 With the operations block on my left, I had a good view of the two hangars . The one nearest me had been restored , but the other was in a state of almost complete collapse . I was now not far away from the white house, and I could hear sounds of banging coming from near there. At first I thought the white object in front of the furthest hangar was a car, and that the banging was coming from someone working in the hangar; but the car turned out to be a boat, beached miles from the nearest river, and the noise was being made by someone unseen near the house.

 I got as close as I dared to photograph the ruined hangar, then backed off to look at the one that had been restored. It looked as if they had made a reasonable job of conserving it, because the hangar looked watertight, apart from some sheets of corrugated missing from the front; at least it was in no danger of collapsing. But it had not been restored to its original condition, as can be seen by comparison with a photograph taken in 2005 of the eastern hangar Link which still appears to have one of its sliding doors partly intact.

 With the hangars massive façade on my right, I cut back in toward the shelter of the trees. On the north wall of the restored hangar were the annexes , still clad in corrugated metal, with their windows now covered with metal also. This was identical to the set-up with the eastern hangar , see Link which shows how the eastern hangar in 2005.

 Off to my left, and quite close to the front of the restored hangar was the aircrew ready room, an evocative name and place if ever there was one  . John Grechs collection of photos shows the inside of this building Link where the aircrews probably sat in two lines facing each other, cheerfully bantering to cover their nerves while they waited to be called.

 Beyond this and to my left were more reminders of the dangers of the place. Two dilapidated buildings to the east of the squash court on the other side of another mossy drive were for use by medics. That on my left, which still bears the faint remains of a red cross in a white oval on its gable, was the sick bay , while that on my right was another medical building . Back along the drive to my right was the ambulance station , and further along still, near the entrance, was the fire tender shed .

 To the left of the ambulance station was the four-bayed M/T (Motor Transport) shed . I was now back on the original mossy drive I had set foot on before circumnavigating the site. Leaving the M/T shed on my right, I walked back to the generator house  and went inside.

 Above the door was a giant steel beam, to which a pulley was attached . The manufacturers name (Herbert Morris Ltd. of Loughborough) was printed on one side of the beam, plus the fact that the pulley was capable of lifting 4 tons (4.064 tonnes) . This beam slid back and forth on metal wheels with cogs along another pair of beams on either side of the inside of the building: I had already seen one of these beams through the window. The pulley was used for lifting generators into and out of looked like three huge ceramic baths set into the floor on the right hand side of the building  . (These generator mountings are best seen in John Grechs collection of photographs Link where they arent covered.) There was another similar, though slightly differently-shaped ceramic pit in the far left corner of the shed .

 By this time, I thought I had hung around too long for my own good, and decided to scarper. I made my way back across the rough ground to the gap in the hedge near the pillbox. I still had a five mile walk planned, so I continued along Jugglers Lane.

 Not much further along, the hedgerow on the left ended, and I had a good view back over the western end of the camp , and also over the edge of the escarpment on which it stands. Right over the other side of the field was a small building, but I wasnt going to plod all that way to see what it was. I photographed it, and later found out that it was another pillbox, this time a Type 27 . Link Link Then I went on my way.

 When I got home, the first thing I did was look up my leaf and twig in Prime and Deacocks 'How to Identify Trees & Shrubs from Leaves or Twigs in Summer or Winter', a little booklet dating from 1942 that I picked up from a car boot sale. It wasnt much help, but the shape of the leaf was vaguely familiar. Then I realised that it was the same as the leaves of the tree at the end of the garden of the house where I grew up: a poplar. But I will still have to go back in the summer to prove it.

 I also discovered the secrets of Hangar 45: have a look at Link to see what the architects envisaged for the inside! Twenty-nine live/work units, communal work space, parking, a play space for children, and even a village shop, all under the hangars capacious saw-tooth roof. In case you are wondering what a live/work unit is, it is a place where people can work from home, thus reducing their carbon footprint by not commuting, and making use of otherwise awkward buildings such as warehouses and hangars. According to RIBA Journal February 2001 Link Hangar 45 would have housed 29 prefabricated timber live/work cassettes around a central street, with parking either side. In 2007, Wiltshire County Council Planning Committee discussed architect Mitchell Taylor Workshops proposals, raising some objections on the grounds that it was by no means a certainty that the proposed dwellings in this location will be utilised as such [i.e. for people to work from] or provide a totally sustainable community. Link I dont know whether the proposal was ultimately passed, though it is clear from events elsewhere that the creation of live/work units was considered to be a slippery slope towards change of use from industrial to purely residential. In 2007, a number of people in Hackney were served with notices to quit their live/work spaces unless they immediately applied for planning permission for change of use. Link However, even with my penchant for trespassing, I havent the nerve to go snooping around Hangar 45 to discover the outcome.

 More photographs of RAF Yatesbury can be seen at Link Link Link Link and Link Also see Link

 And for a final treat, watch Link or Link in which the West Camp features as a set for the video of Doctorin the Tardis by the Timelords/KLF (1988). It gives a good view of the concrete runway and the two westernmost hangars, which were then almost intact, as well as being jolly good fun!

 text/html 2014-12-22T22:56:49+00:00 David Howard 51.415970695142 -0.58495417263065 December, the darkest month http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/219 A possible inspiration to others, I hadn't planned or expected to continue my trips to new places on the map over the winter months, as described in my previous entry, but each week I checked the map and timed the routes to see if I could get around it in time which I did each trip. Sundays were the usual method as there's far less traffic, although I have managed others as well. They have been to Datchet , Croxley , including a square which only had one photo in it previously , Mickleham , Clandon , Virginia Water  and a failed attempt to get what may have been a pre-Worboys sign in Uxbridge, illegible on Streetview and used as a reason to get myself out somewhere, with a single new square for the effort (it was a sign telling the story of a local bridge).  It also produced some nice views such as

 Having expected to go in an ever decreasing spiral mopping up little taken squares to fill up with some more until March I surprised myself by keeping the momentum going right up to the shortest day, managing with the help of my trusty A-Z nine new squares in the area around the North Downs before sundown.  It is only uphill (as in improving) from here as the days will be getting longer now, although it got dark almost half an hour earlier today than yesterday as it was so overcast. Had it not been sunny or partly cloudy each week I'd never have managed it as the light wouldn't have been anywhere near good enough. I am now planning ahead by the month, with February and March trips already mapped out I won't spoil by tempting fate and naming. I also have another ambition, the furthest I can get a couple of times before it gets dark in any reasonable direction until the clocks go forward and I can pick and choose. That could be off the A1 NE from Hatfield, the A24 south, and anywhere beyond Chesham I haven't done already. It was a great relief to keep going right through the off season as I'm an unreformed collector and always like adding something new to a collection or other, and as the pre-Worboys signs are getting rarer and rarer (but still turning a few up) new places can keep going as long as I can.

 Meanwhile after fiddling with the undocumented menus on the camera I discovered how it was meant to take night photos, so joined many others using the tripod although the exposures are so long (5-10 seconds in some cases) even a light wind will blur them while open.     text/html 2014-09-16T15:30:29+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.905343666029 -6.3295817872938 Circumnavigation of Islay http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/216 For how long have I wanted to entitle a blog 'Circumnavigation of Islay' or submit a photo for NR2976, one of the four gridsquares which cover Nave Island, Islay's most northerly offshore island. Thanks to Sandy's late mother, this trip was to cost me no more than an unexpected day's holiday and was to be one of the most memorable trips of my life (thus far!)

 A party of 12 intrepid passengers set off from Port Ellen under the supervision of Gus Newman of Islay Sea-Adventures and his skipper Alex. We soon passed the chain of islets known an Sgeir Fada
 ,
 before viewing the secluded beach of Port an Eas (Port of the Waterfall) from the first time from the sea
 .
 Having only recently bagged the square NR3341, it was interesting to view the volcanic dyke from the seaward side.
 .
 The sight of wild goats in the same square was a humbling reminder that, for all our ingenuity, humans still have trouble accessing parts of the world that other, nimbler, creatures take in their stride -
 .

 A little further round the coast Gus slowed down to point out part of the wreckage of the Inniskea, a Scottish steel steam ship that smashed into rocks in 1912. Not much is left now of the wreckage.

 Beinn Mhòr (Big Mountain) is one of Islay's seven marilyns and is particularly impressive when viewed from the sea.

 It is also significant in that it is adorned by one of Islay's 35 trigpoints (trigpoints being prominent in my mind on this day). Whilst it was interesting and exciting to view all of the island from a different angle today, there were some parts which I was particularly keen to see. Dùn Athad was one of them. It is barely accessible from the land and makes a very impressive ancient fort.

 The American Monument, which marks the sinking in 1918 of two American ships - the Tuscania and the Otranto, is a popular destination for tourists, being only a short walk from the RSPB car park at Upper Killeyan. I had been several times, but viewing it from the sea certainly helped me appreciate the treacherous nature of this coastline.

 A small rock barely visible above the water was all I could photograph for NR2642, although it meant the opportunity to photograph the beautifully colourful and striated rocks of the cliff-face in the next gridsquare.

 I have viewed the shapely sea stacks at Lower Killeyan many times from the land and admired the shags which often make use of these rocks to stand and dry out their wings. This was the first time I'd seen them close up, though and they have beautiful quartzite veins running through them.

 On the north side of the Oa I managed an undramatic photo of NR2745

 before we approached Soldier's Rock, great bastion of the northern cliffs of The Oa peninsula, and another feature I had seen many times from the land.

 What happened next was a wonderful surprise for everyone (except Gus!) We were going to explore the sea caves beside the spectacular sea stack! Wow! I was beside myself with excitement, as were all but one of the passengers, including our oldest member at 87! A fishing break for some, whilst the rest of us went into the cave.
  and
 This is one of Islay's most beautiful gridsquares, having many features to photograph within it, including this not-so-spectacular-today waterfall.

 Looking back from inside the cave provided a rare opportunity to photograph the great Soldier's Rock from a different angle.

 With grassy swards running down to angular promontories and rocky islets just off shore, this coastline is truly breathtaking.
  and

 It was only afterwards, when sharing photos and comparing our GPS routes, that I realised my boyfriend Paul had saved the day by grabbing some of the photo opportunities I'd missed - (despite careful marking of the map beforehand!)I was very grateful to him for some of these photos - when would I next get an opportunity like this?!

 Once round The Oa, we cut across Loch Indaal to the south end of the Rinns peninsula where the sun shone so brilliantly you could be forgiven for thinking we were in tropical waters! The fishing villages of Port Wemyss

 and Portnahaven

 are less than half a mile apart, but villagers from both villages are very insistent on maintaining the distinction between the two! More so in days of yore, I believe.

 Caolas nan Gall,

 between Orsay and Eilean Mhic Coinnich has a potentially interesting history. 'Gall' translates as 'Foreigner'. I wonder whether immigrants used this secluded passage on their way across the Atlantic or the Irish Sea. Eilean MhicCoinnich or McKenzie's Island was the location for my first and only sighting of the rare raptor, the Gyr Falcon a few years ago. Although not a new square as Portnahaven village is also situated within it, it was a new photo opportunity, and one I wasn't going to miss.

 After our trip I was mad at myself for not having noticed our entry into NR1552 and had to be content with a supplemental image of Sgeiran Dubh' (Black Rocks) from NR1652. How could I have missed that?! It was interesting to view, from the sea, the world's first commerical wave power device to be connected to the national grid - Islay (LIMPET).
 Also to view Frenchman's Rocks from a much closer perspective.

 I'd often viewed these from the Rinns when watching the passage of sea birds in the autumn. Apparently they are called 'Frenchman's Rocks' after a French vessel which was wrecked here.

 Lossit Point just dips into NR1656, so I was especially glad to bag a 'First' for this gridsquare, before heading north and pausing for more fishing around this area.

 Beinn Ghlas (Grey Mountain) brought back memories of a couple of years before when I'd slid down a slope to gain NR1758, a new square for me. Viewed from the sea, the 'mountain' is much more attractive and the grassy slopes much greener than on my last visit. It was also interesting to see the caves, not visible from the landward side.

 Eilean an Tannas-sgeir is the only bit of land within NR1863 and it was particularly satisfying to gain a 'First' point for this square.

 NR1865 is another gridsquare with only a tiny piece of land in it - Reidh a' Bhuirg (level ground of the fortress). The 'fortress' in question lies within NR1964.

 Another fortress, Dun Bheolain, also juts out into the sea in NR2069. It is a place I have been to on many occasions, but never had I viewed it from this angle before.

 This west, Atlantic coast of the island, is my favourite part of Islay's coastline. It is so rugged, wild and uninviting. It was wonderful to anticipate views of places I had walked to many times. Viewing them from a seaward perspective added to their fascination and majesty. Sanaig rocks looked incredibly impressive from this angle - five mighty buttresses.
  and

 No part of the trip excited me as much as the prospect of setting foot on Nave Island - my most coveted trigpoint destination. I had viewed this small patch of land longingly many, many times over my ten years on Islay and kept pinching myself during the boat trip to believe I was finally going to achieve my dream. As the island approached, my excitement levels increased.
 ,  and
 I could hardly believe our luck as our vessel drew close to Port na h-Eaglaise - 'Port of the church'. The sun was shining brilliantly. The church is thought to have been founded by a disciple of St Columbus. Grey Seals were swimming close by and we cast them a few sprats for our entertainment.

 At last I was ashore and ran up to the old chapel/kiln.

 Any fears of having built up expectations too high were unfounded. This place has a beauty and magic of its own. Ungrazed, the land makes for tough walking, and Sloc na Maoile (Gully of the Rounded Hill), makes accessing the trigpoint even more difficult.

 Rarely have I felt as exhilarated as I did on reaching the trigpoint - the culmination of a ten year quest - to visit every one of Islay's 35 trigpoints.

 As one by one the other members of the boat trip came to join us, I stood atop the trigpoint and opened the bottle of bubbly to celebrate. Then I cut the much 'admired' celebratory cake (complete with a 'life-like' replica of the trigpoint!) and took a self-timer photograph. When was the last time fourteen people had stood here? I wondered. It was one very special moment of one incredibly special day.

 All that was left to do now was barbecue our catch (delicious), paddle (refreshing) and gain my fourth and final gridsquare of this tiny island
  - satisfying.

 Back on board we headed north for the last time. The 3 mile stretch of Traigh Baile Aonghais looked very distant and I recalled my walk along that beach to gain gridsquares on a similarly beautiful day last autumn. Further north the landmark of Mala Bholsa came into view.

 This rounded hill of Bolsa is a familiar landmark and home to another trigpoint. One I have only visited once in fact, despite having walked this way many times. I think by the time you've trudged all those weary miles north, the last thing you feel like doing is prolonging the agony by climbing a gratuitous hill. Excuses, excuses, maybe another time!

 It was interesting to view Bolsa's famous caves from the sea as we slowly passed them by. Did they all have a story to tell? They aren't all named on the map.
  and

 I looked out for the Post Rocks which lie between the north coast of Islay and Colonsay. Funnily enough I've viewed them better from the land than I did that day from the sea. I think height is an advantage.
 [[4150531]]

 Rubh' a' Mhail lighthouse is another of my favourite places on Islay.
 [[4150578]]
 There is a trigpoint near by. One I have visited I think twice. It's really not worth a visit, to be honest; the coastline and lighthouse make for much more interesting viewing.
 [[4150592]]
 Constructed between 1857 and 1859 by David and Thomas Stevenson, this beautiful and elegant white tower lies within the grounds of a private home and is another familiar landmark, viewable even from Port Askaig, about 6 miles south.

 It felt like we were on the homeward leg now we'd turned the corner onto Islay's east coast. Maybe because, try as I might, I can't find the same affinity with this stretch of coastline. Perhaps it's because of its proximity to other land (Jura) and the narrow stretch of water between the two (the Sound of Islay) just doesn't have the same allure as the mighty Atlantic on the other side.

 There was still plenty to see, however - the two distilleries of Bunnahabahin
 [[4150598]]
 and Caol Ila
 [[4150604]]

 before reaching the quiet and sheltered harbour of Port Askaig. It is here that the ferries are often diverted in inclement weather. The ever-present Jura ferry enhances the attractiveness of this small port.
 [[4150665]]

 Carraig Mhòr is a tiny lighthouse situated just south of 'the Port' as it is known locally.
 [[4151056]]
 It is difficult to walk the coastline south of here. I have done it only once, on my perambulation of Islay. The experience was such that I have not wanted to repeat it, although I know others have, with not quite as terrifying results. So what did I do wrong?

 An Cladach (the stony beach) bothy is viewed from the sea many more times than it is from the land, although perhaps not everyone knows it. You have to be on deck on the ferry and notice the often glinting roof of this tiny primitive abode before raising your binoculars (if you have them) to confirm it surely can't be, but yes it is, a building on this remote stretch of coastline.
 [[4150673]]

 It is in fact a small bothy owned and beautifully maintained by the Mountain Bothy Association, and well worth a visit. It brought back many memories of cosy nights spent there as we motored past today.

 McArthur's Head is another Stevenson lighthouse, constructed in 1861. It is another landmark which is more often admired from the sea than by land, although it is certainly worth the difficult walk to view it from the land.
 [[4150678]]

 There was quite a gap now before I 'needed' another gridsquare. There was a whole bunch of squares which I'd either never attempted to access before or had tried and failed. The ground is difficult to cover on this section and I knew it would be much easier by sea. I therefore hoped we would set 'foot' on as many of the gridsquares as possible and looked anxiously at Paul's memory map GPS to see which line of travel we would take, trying to predict which squares I'd be successful in 'ticking off'.

 Sgeir Phlocach and Rubh' a' Bhealaich Ghaoith - sturdy (?) Rock and Point/promontory of the windy bealach was the only feature to jut into NR4755
 [[4150699]]
 but NR4752 has even less land.
 [[4150717]]

 Glas Uig is a much-visited site.
 [[4150728]] and [[4150731]]

 Apparently German U-boats used to hide in this sheltered harbour during the Second World War whilst the crew went ashore to steal sheep.

 Ardmore Point sticks well out into NR4750 and is the location of a trigpoint I have only visited once, but would like to revisit.
 [[1749971]] (Not taken on this trip.)

 Bordering two gridsquares is Sgeir a' Ghaidhil.
 [[4150805]]

 I must have blinked whilst we motored through the next gridsquare and missed an opportunity to gain a geograph for NR4749. To make this even more maddening, this is a gridsquare I ventured into many years ago, before my Geograph days. I was taken on a boat trip round Eilean a' Chuirn and could kick myself that I no longer have any photos of this inaccessible island with its diminutive lighthouse.
 [[4150737]]

 We were now in Common Seals water. Generally speaking it is Grey Seals that frequent the Atlantic waters and Common Seals that are found on this eastern coastline of Islay. We were rewarded today by excellent views of these marine mammals as they basked on Sgeir nam Ban.
 [[4150818]]

 This coastline is dotted with many islets, some of which are unnamed on the map,
 [[4150824]]
 whilst Eilean Craobhach is one of the bigger islands; its name suggests it was once much more wooded.
 [[4150829]]

 Eilean nan Gamhna effectively hides the larger Eilean Bhride (Island of the Bride)
 [[4150857]] and [[4150900]]

 A careful eye was constantly on the GPS at this stage and I was delighted to be gaining so many new gridsquares.
 [[4150904]] and [[4150844]]

 I managed to miss Garbh Sgeir Mor (we had been on the boat for a long time and I was getting tired and cold!) Garbh Sgeir Bheag is mis-spelt on the Explorer Map (Grabh). I wonder if this is one of their deliberate 'mistakes' to discourage plagiarism.
 [[4150914]]

 Carraig an t-Sluic (Rock of the pit) is not named on the Explorer Map. I found its name by zooming in on Geograph's excellent zoomable map feature.
 [[4150921]]

 Two more rocks that lie off this multi-islet stretch of coastline are Sgeir Sgleàta and Corr Sgeir (Slate Rock and Extraordinary Rock).
 [[4150934]]

 Others are not named.
 [[4150940]] and [[4150947]]

 Our wonderful trip was drawing to a close and, as a reminder of this sad fact, we watched the MV Finlaggan sail towards Port Ellen as the time approached 2000 hours.
 [[4150952]]

 Iseanach Mòr was a baffling name for an island. I've decided to translate it as 'Big Island abounding in chickens' - until someone comes up with a better translation!
 [[4150960]]

 When Islay's three south-eastern distilleries come into view you know you are nearly home.
 Ardbeg [[4150964]], Lagavulin [[4150966]] and Laphroaig [[4150974]].

 Having said that, spotting the telephone exchange near Laphroaig brought back memories of my first and only walk along that coastline - full of ticks, falls, walls, bracken and fear!
 [[1741823]]

 Dunyvaig Castle is a much more attractive and accessible place to visit with an interesting history
 [[4150967]]. See Link

 The uninhabited island of Texa covers three gridsquares as I discovered on my WalkIslay trip there a few years ago when I managed to bag another much-coveted trigpoint. Today, however, we were only to pass through the northernmost of its squares
 [[4150968]]
 whilst gaining a distant glimpse of the derelict chapel there.
 [[4150970]]

 As we rounded the corner into Port Ellen, Gus pointed out a painted swan on the rocks at The Ard. "It's been there for many, many decades," he said.
 [[4150979]]

 As we approached the pier at Port Ellen, and our final destination for the day, I was feeling more content and exhilarated than I have done in a long time.
 [[4150982]]

 Later I did some calculations. I'd bagged one trigpoint, passed five lighthouses, gained 57 geographs (of which 3 were 'Firsts', 13 'Seconds, and 2 'Thirds'), 16 Tpoints and 22 Supplementals. More importantly I'd been in the company of 13 wonderful people and my thanks and gratitude are extended to Sandy Taylor for inviting us on this trip; Paul, for his technological expertise and equipment and patience at my persistent 'Are we in a new square yet?' questioning and Gus and Alex for this wonderful experienced and expertly-led trip - definitely a trip of a lifetime.

 Islay Sea Adventures - Link

 text/html 2014-10-07T13:44:07+00:00 Gerald England 53.402215970876 -2.1593906406412 A walk around Edgeley http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/217 A walk around Edgeley past Stockport County football ground, into Edgeley Park and along Castle Street with its pubs and lamppost artwork. You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link .

 One day I decided to have a little look around Edgeley as the place isn't especially well Geographed and I was interested in looking at the lampposts on Castle Street.

 I got off the bus half way along Mercian Way and made my way down to Hardcastle Road and looked at [[4192204]] Stockport County Football Club. Stockport County moved to Edgeley Park, then home of Stockport Rugby League Club, in 1902, having previously played at Green Lane in Heaton Norris. The team currently play in the Conference North League. The Cheadle End stand was opened at the beginning of the 1995-96 season, is two tiered, covered and all seated. It is generally reserved for home fans who enter via turnstiles 17-19 on Hardcastle Road. A prominent sign [[4192219]] reads:

 NO ALCOHOL OR GLASS
 BOTTLES TO BE BROUGHT
 INTO THE STADIUM

 It is prohibited under Stadium Safety Rules
 for spectators to bring alcohol or
 glass bottle or other containers
 into the ground. Please deposit
 responsibly in a nearby bin

 At the end of Hardcastle Road I turned left on to Reservoir Road and down to the footbridge [[4192394]] with its overflowing litter bin. Left is Sykes Reservoir #1 [[4192403]] and right is #2 [[4192409]] Three reservoirs originally provided water for the Sykes Bleaching Works and are now part of Alexandra Park and used for fishing.

 A footpath [[4192768]] leads back towards Hardcastle Road. Overlooking the #2 reservoir is a flowerbed [[4192792]] and a commemorative stone [[4192799]] that reads:

 THIS LAND WAS PRESENTED
 TO THE
 CORPORATION OF STOCKPORT
 FOR THE PURPOSE OF A PUBLIC
 PARK OR PLEASURE GROUND
 BY
 THOMAS HARDCASTLE SYKES &
 ARTHUR HENRY SYKES, ESQUIRES
 TO COMMEMORATE THE 50th
 ANNIVERSARY OF THE REIGN OF
 HER MAJESTY QUEEN VICTORIA
 IN 1897,
 AND WAS OPENED TO THE PUBLIC
 ON THE 1st DAY OF MAY 1889
 BY
 JOSEPH LEIGH ESQ.
 MAYOR.

 I left the park and walked back into Edgeley where I discovered the Conservative Club [[4192809]] which was founded in 1888 [[4192818]].

 Castle Street [[4192891]] used to be the main thoroughfare through Edgeley before the building of Mercian Way as a bypass. [[4192895]] Post box SK3 24 is a double-box.

 Nearby is a Salvation Army charity shop [[4192901]] and the Sir Robert Peel [[4192906]] public house.

 On a lamppost [[4192927]] is a piece of artwork. The text reads:

 "AS A CHILD I USED TO BE SENT TO THE
 MAYPOLE TO GET A PAT OF BUTTER.
 I THOUGHT IT WAS LOVELY.

 THEY USED TO HAVE 2 WOODEN
 BATTERNS THAT THEY TAPPED ON
 THE SIDES OF THE BUTTER AND
 THEY WOULD STAMP THE TOP
 WITH A THISTLE"

 As part of the Stockport Arts Trail, an independent group of young people, working towards an Arts Award Qualification at Stockport Central Library, created the images for one face of the artworks, located on lampposts in and around Edgeley. Historic photographs from the libraries archives are on the other face, giving people an idea of how the area looked in times gone by.

 This one [[4192930]] has an image of bootmakers, Bostock & Co.

 Further up the street is [[4192940]] The Pineapple and Edgeley Chippy. The pub displays a Guiness sign.

 On the corner of Newton Street [[4192942]] is another pub [[4192946]] The Jolly Crofter which has a rather faded sign [[4192951]]

 The next lamppost [[4193374]] reads:

 "On Saturday nights my dad used to take us Stockport Market in those days it stayed open till 9pm.

 It was a great event everyone from round here would go. And we'd always go to Woolworths on the way home to buy sweets."

 On the reverse [[4193382]] is an old view of Stockport Market as well as an "Alcohol Restricted Area" notice. [[4193392]]

 The lamppost at the top end of Castle Street [[4194432]] has an old photo of a train at Stockport Edgeley station. The text [[4194445]] reads:

 "My dad was a guard on the trains every family holiday we had, started at Edgeley Station."

 A last look down Castle Street [[4194459]]

 On the corner of Castle Street and Mercian Way is [[4194488]]. It was a Robinsons pub "The Grapes" before being converted into Barbicans Coffee House. It recently closed and is up for sale again.

 There are another eight lampposts with artwork around Edgeley but they will have to wait for another day. text/html 2014-11-25T18:42:47+00:00 David Howard 51.747085979588 -0.45874658606011 The end of the season http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/218 After the clocks went back I thought I didn't have much chance of getting anywhere new till the spring. I'd been Geographing a few years now for squares rather than just submitting random photos, and was running out of anywhere I could get to and wander around in time before it got dark. [[4256628]] However, referring to the previous blog entry then the extension I had was a whole month, with a plan being made for Sundays when I knew there'd be hardly any traffic so could add another hour's travel time as I could almost double the distance for the other days. I chose TL0606 [[4245122]] as it wasn't a Sunday, and proved if it was sunny (almost half an hour more daylight) and the roads were clear I could do the same during the week, and although the route has a few bottlenecks I was very lucky none were present till one coming back when I'd already finished.

 [[4245132]] This was a second chance for a square I missed last time as there were two paths, and the one I saw went west not east and thought this one was private so didn't realise it was the one I needed.

 I basically worked round the compass points on my map looking for the nearest green spaces and then mapping out a route using the A-Z and pencilling in the squares and writing arrows on the roads to almost (it's not a perfect system) guarantee I got everywhere. That followed the system which had to be perfect of filling hectads, and a few needed two trips as I missed some the first time as it wasn't [[3046267]] (which meant walking almost a mile in the pouring rain), especially in large fields [[3129506]] although having a map helps [[3129724]] [[2730938]]. The 'off season' still found me getting as far as Datchet [[4229667]], Hemel Hempstead [[4245563]] [[4245538]], Mickleham [[4247703]], and Kings Cross [[4226985]] [[4226938]]. That was due to the school holidays, making a normally dire journey into London into literally a holiday, sailing through Holloway as if it was the height of summer, and only stopped as the Congestion Charge prevents you crossing the Ring Road and had to cut back up Caledonian Road [[4226995]] although I'd rather have gone right into the City where I barely have anything.

 Using simple maths it's now a month to the shortest day and means a month or so after it (the start of February) will allow the same amount of time, and the new cameras I now have are able to take photos with any amount of light so add half an hour to the time I had with the original Olympus. I am now writing my routes for 2015, and happy to go into hibernation for a couple of months, as compared to the five I expected is pretty short really. And once I found an unmentioned button on the Lumix menu I could finally take passable night photos as well so if I find myself anywhere unusual at night I can get a red square there as well.
 [[4249399]] [[4249260]] [[4249400]] text/html 2013-10-07T17:54:31+00:00 Toby Speight 57.771873219657 -6.4499915614478 Little Minch circuit by kayak http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/199 For four years or more I've nurtured an ambition to paddle across the Little Minch. The chart has sat open in my front room for uncounted hours as I fantasised about seeing for myself the islands, skerries and buoys that make this bit of sea amongst the most interesting.

 So when I got a week of holiday at the beginning of September, I packed a sleeping bag and tent into my kayak, along with 4 days' worth of food and a camera, and headed out from Bornesketaig. It only took half an hour for me to decide that the wind was too much for me, and I turned back, the edge being taken off my disappointment when I happened across a basking shark on my way back.

 A few weeks later, I got the chance to try again. I was encouraged by a favourable weather forecast, though this time I was constrained by having only three days available. Again, I drove to Bornesketaig, and paddled out directly to An t-Iasgair[[3681017]] - this was the sole hold-out of NG37, with several distant supplementals, but no Geograph until now. NG37 is now complete.

 With my first Geograph in the bag, I then turned north-east to Eilean Trodday[[3681018]]. The southern half of this island fell way back in 2006, but still nobody had photographed the northern two squares[[3681019]]. Looking for these on my GPS map, I was shocked to find that they were no longer marked as ungeographed. Had I been beaten to it? Scanning more widely, I discovered that I was in fact missing my entire hit-list - I'd updated my GPS in a hurry, and didn't realise that the Geograph layer failed to build. All those hours of planning and dreaming were now going to have to pay for themselves, as I was going to have to complete the area by memory alone!

 Having captured the two northern squares of Eilean Trodday (and thus completed NG47), I knew that my next target was the Comet Rock buoy to the northwest. This is a starboard-hand marker for the northbound shipping lane through the Little Minch.[[3681020]] What I hadn't realised is that it stands in a hectad of its own, so photographing it both started and finished NG48.

 Now it was time to turn north, and undertake the longest open crossing of the day. The Shiant Islands present a distinctive, steep profile from pretty much every direction of approach. I aimed for the southernmost point, Mianais, and captured the small rock of Sgeir Mianais[[3681021]] (completing NG49) before making my way up to the isthmus joining Eilean an Tigh to Eilean Garbh and settling down for the night (with Adam Nicolson's book "Sea Room", about the Shiant Islands, for company). I'd paddled 34.1 kilometres, and completed 4 hectads. Not a bad day, really.

 Saturday's Geo-Trip: Link

 Sunday dawned clear and calm. I breakfasted quickly and packed the boat, then radioed Stornoway Coastguard with my plan for the day. The route was simple: cross to Lewis, and follow close inshore westwards to the small settlement of Rheinigeadal, where I wanted to stay in the hostel I'd briefly visited back in 2009.

 On the way, of course, there would be plenty of Geographing opportunity - beginning with the west end of the Galtachan, the line of rocks guarding the islands from that direction. A jagged line of broken teeth protrude ready to bite any unwary boats that miss their approach. But in today's windless sunshine, they appeared almost benign. I captured the westernmost of the visible rocks[[3681022]] - the tidal skerry of Damhag was still underwater at this point. Having thus completed NG39, I re-completed it within minutes by adding the Shiants lane marker buoy[[3681023]] before paddling across to the "mainland" of Lewis.

 I made my landfall at a small sea-cave, Uamh Mhic Iain Dhuibhe[[3681024]], which I was able to briefly explore (though the resident seals seemed a bit surprised at this), then began my westward journey. I was fairly sure that most squares I would be passing through were in need of Geographs, and also fairly sure that I wasn't likely to be completing any hectads. So I was happy to go slow and steady, and just keep clicking.

 I reached Rheinigeadal at the end of the afternoon; entering the bay, I found the hostel warden's husband and children fishing from the shore, so stopped and talked to them for a few minutes before updating the Coastguard and coming ashore myself. My total for the day was 31.5 km and 16 Geographs including one more hectad completion.

 Sunday's Geo-Trip: Link

 Monday morning was another early start, soon after sunrise. My main objective was to get back to Skye early enough to be back at work on Tuesday; on the way I hoped to capture Sgeir In-ao and the Eugenie Rock buoy. But I knew I could begin with a gentle paddle to Sgeir an Daimh[[3681038]] (if I'd had my hit-list with me, I would probably have detoured along the coast a bit; as it is, I now have a good excuse to return!) From there, I turned a little to port (i.e. straight into the morning sun) aiming for the buoy north of Sgeir In-ao[[3681039]]. I went looking for Sgeir In-ao itself, but the tide was still too high to see it under the water.

 Turning toward the sun once more, I paddled with a gentle headwind to Eugenie Rock. The sun shone brightly on the black and yellow buoy, making a very striking image[[3681040]], with the much less strident Shiant Islands in the background. This added another square to NG38 (previously completed by me in 2010). From here, a direct course back to Bornesketaig took me close past Fladda-chùain and An t-Iasgair; I was grateful for the shelter from the tiring east wind. Arriving at the pier, I discovered that my VHF battery had run out, so my final call to the Coastguard had to wait until I'd transferred to the car and driven up to the Kilvaxter phone box. Total for the last day was 37.4 km, with 3 Geographs and 1 (re-)completed hectad.

 Monday's Geo-Trip: Link
 text/html 2014-09-11T20:44:39+00:00 Toby Speight 57.644750508466 -5.6462200306483 Flowerdale Forest from Shieldaig croft http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/215 This year, most of my Geographing has been done by kayak, with only a handful of contributions from walking trips. Mindful of this, and of the approaching stag stalking season, I decided it was time to photograph on foot.

 I began at Shieldaig (not to be confused with its larger namesake to the south) and set off on a very good stalkers' path. The first hour or so was quite easy, but not good preparation for what was to follow. I experienced quite a change when I left the path, immediately crossing the Horrisdale river. Unfortunately, I found my self unexpectedly seated about halfway across. I would be spending the rest of the day with squelchy feet.

 I headed roughly southwest in my soggy boots across almost equally soggy landscape.[[4137578]] No large-scale features until I reached another, smaller burn. This one was showing the effects of the remnants of a hurricane that passed over earlier in the week. Floodwaters had undercut the banks in several places, giving me an excellent opportunity to illustrate post-glacial geomorphology in action.[[4137592]]

 A wiggling course took in the squares on my hit-list, and I was soon on the slopes overlooking Craig.[[4137602]] I ascended, passing alongside Lochan Sgeireach,[[4137608]] to gain the northern slopes of Beinn Bhreac,[[4137611]][[4137620]] then contoured round before dropping to Loch a' Bhealaich.[[4137634]] Rough going alongside the loch alternated with a few easy sand beaches, until I regained the stalkers' path near the outflow. From there I squelched easily back down to the road, though the outlet of Loch Gaineamhach was tricky - the bridge lay washed away a quarter mile downstream and the stepping stones were well covered. I thought I might be exchanging the day's warm boot-water for a fresh cold refill!

 Distance covered 38 km and ascent of 1490 m. You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link . text/html 2014-09-04T02:24:03+00:00 David Howard The 2014 season draws to a close http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/214 After my big start to the season (ie when the clocks go forward) in April the elastic which had been being pulled back throughout the winter months was allowed to shoot forward to Dungeness, and then relaxed back into stasis partly as I discovered it was no longer necessary to make a few of my next planned journeys, as plan A (getting as far as possible between my furthest two points) was no longer necessary as none would any longer increase it as they were in different directions and the only one which would add maybe 6-7 miles is about 90 miles. Plan B is new myriads, all well over 80 miles each now, and plan C is compass point records. West is pretty well sufficient, south would get me drowned if I went much further, and unless I went diagonally so will east. As the A12 has now become more like the A406 at least on the last visit when I had to turn off as I'd been in second gear maximum till Chelmsford, let alone the dire journey to reach it at Harold Wood, Colchester was now pretty much off my radar despite many previous visits in the past with no trouble. Things change. I did get to Swanscombe [[3961629]] after the big April burst, just getting into the new hectad TQ67.

 Soon afterwards I was laid low with a chest infection, coughing nearly every night for a month or so so back to local duties as I had little energy left for much else. As I recovered I started a new project, partly also based on the lack of need to beat my plan A record as without a different car or benefactor with their own wasn't minded to keep the efforts going which unlike in my 30s now tire me out. I bagged two more hectads, meaning it was now only possible to get new red squares by leaving a 12.5 X 25 mile rectangle which was completely covered already. I made a new list and instead of driving as far down a road as I could manage, I pencilled the map with the green squares and tried to get as many per visit as possible as I had with the hectads, but (unless another raises itself naturally) not going for any more as certainly the ones around the other side of the London border have a few unreachable squares in them, some on gated developments and others in the middle of reservoirs. I suspect TQ37 and 36 may end up next as I've covered so much already, assuming all of those are accessible as all within the suburbs.

 So the original lines have become loops and zigzags, and got to know a lot of back doubles and new parks and fields not that far from home, and am always surprised how many squares on the fringe of London only have one or two previous photos for first geographs and then nothing, eg [[4140467]], except on the south side which seems a magnet for photographers. It's been a fairly even sweep, from Kimpton in the north [[4082852]] Cudham in the south [[4102730]] and Chalfont St Peter [[4139305]] and Chobham [[4124479]] in the west. The good news was the pre-Worboys signs I collect kept coming in 2014 after a massive year in 2013 when a record number of new arrivals surfaced in and around Kent for a period of months. Unfortunately due to removal plans we no longer reveal the exact locations until the sad day one is removed, unless someone's already posted it here so won't make a difference adding one more [[3963652]]so have had to stop posting them here until that happens as so many we posted on Flickr and Sabre didn't last very long afterwards. I am using the last month or so as much as I can, and spent the last three days managing at least two new squares a day, although due to a lack of pedestrian signage missed a final one yesterday as the actual boundary appeared to be on someone's property (on a little path just left of these) [[4148690]] (regardless of the map) and there were three actual paths to choose from [[4148909]] (left, middle and right) with only one known to be public, which was the wrong side of the line. I ended up with a draw, ie a cross-grid supplemental as the houses I took were in the new square but I was standing next to them which was not. I'll manage, I pass that spot from time to time and will plan a trip for squares which passes it now. Compared to the 20 plus mile trip to Amersham for SP which I missed when I saw a nice view and turned left before I should, and went back the following day, and far worse the 70 or so mile trip to TM where the map didn't show the difference between the road into the marsh and the one right next to it into a farm which wasn't in TM, and had to do all over the following week. It did mean a nicer patch on Dengie Marsh and more squares in TR just next to it as it's a node, and was the first time in three visits where the A11 wasn't walking pace for half the journey.

 So although none have been very ambitious the steady addition of 10-15 squares a week by hook or by crook has returned me to 68th from 71st fairly quickly, although I don't aim for anything on the leaderboards besides hectads as they change daily. I crammed the last two weekdays before the schools went back by going through a uniquely deserted Brecknock Road [[4141703]] for an isolated square in Islington [[4141638]], and then through Kingston and Surbiton to get to Bookham and Leatherhead [[4147770]] [[4147748]]. I'll try and knock a few more off my list before October and then get settled in for the close season and start watching more TV again for a while... text/html 2014-08-23T13:41:33+00:00 Philip Halling 52.051753314592 -2.7086884368516 Climbing the tower of Hereford Cathedral http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/212 Last month I visit Salisbury and whilst there I climbed the tower of the cathedral, this inspired me to see if it was possible to climb the tower of one of my local cathedrals. Within a radius of 25 miles of my home there are three cathedrals, Gloucester, the tower of which a climbed a couple of years ago, Worcester and Hereford. Checking the website of Hereford Cathedral I noted that the tower is currently open on Wednesdays and Thursdays and being on leave took to opportunity to visit.

 [[4133472]] [[4126287]]
 The tower is 140ft (42m) high, the height to the top of the pinnacles is 165ft (50m). There are 218 steps. The view from the top is ample reward for the ascent of these steps with views stretching way beyond the city of Hereford to the surrounding countryside and beyond the boundaries of the county of Herefordshire. To the west the view extends to the Black Mountains and the Sugar loaf on the Welsh borders. The view to the east expands to the Malvern Hills on the county boundary with neighbouring Worcestershire. The view to the south and south-east is less expansive with the hills around Fownhope limiting the extent of the view. The view to the north stretches to south Shropshire and in particular Titterstone Clee Hill is visible complete with it air traffic beacon on its summit.
 [[4127207]] [[4126302]] [[4127189]] [[4127186]] [[4127178]] [[4127170]] [[4126342]] [[4126336]] [[4126319]] [[4126314]] [[4126302]] [[4133483]] [[4133485]] [[4133480]] [[4133474]]
 text/html 2014-08-11T20:59:55+00:00 Rudi Winter 50.901490711401 -1.4112104792944 Southampton's old town and cruise docks http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/211 The day after the Geograph conference 2014, fellow Geograph-er Basher Eyre took us on a guided tour [[4111997]] of Southampton's old town. Starting at the station, we walked past the Civic Centre [[4112524]] towards the town walls [[4112644]].

 After seeing an interesting mural [[4112739]] summarising Southampton's history in Hamtun Street and hearing about Southampton's oldest church, St Michael's [[4112859]], we saw a number of preserved buildings such as a mediaeval wine merchant's house [[4113380]] and the Duke of Wellington pub [[4113099]], passed by the Mayflower memorial and the offices of the Red Funnel ferry company [[4113083]]. The tour ended at the ruins of Holy Rood church (now a war memorial), from where we left for tapas in Oxford Street.

 After the meal, the group scattered and I continued on my own past Bar Gate [[4113515]] and the castle wall [[4113542]] down to the City Cruise terminal [[4113591]] for a close-up of one of the largest passenger ships [[4113685]] ever built.

 After following the Quay roads [[4114095]] and the remnants of the town walls [[4114132]] at the southern tip of the old town in bright sunshine, I was chased back to the car by an approaching wall of black cloud [[4114067]]. I just made it in time!

 You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link . text/html 2014-08-07T20:40:11+00:00 Rudi Winter 52.560584832302 -3.8675273892419 The wrong side of the Nant-y-Factory from Glaspwll http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/210 I had great plans for this Easter holiday walk: A farm track would take me up to the intake of the curiously named Nant-y-Factory (if one can trust the map in this respect), then find my way up to the top end of the Moel-y-Llyn forestry, round the four lakes around Angler's Retreat and finally back down the upper Cwm Llyfnant, with a waterfall thrown in for interest.

 It didn't quite work out. I didn't manage to set off until afternoon, then couldn't find anywhere to park without obstructing the road, and finally made a navigational blunder. The result: a very short walk from Glaspwll [[3943662]] past the Welsh Bee Breeding Station [[3943675]] and up the wrong side [[3943707]] of the Nant-y-Factory. After returning to Glaspwll, I figured this was better left for another day rather than rushing a long walk.

 You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link .

 Just for a laugh - the trip profile: Link text/html 2014-08-07T12:43:58+00:00 Bill Nicholls 51.619974569798 -1.2575200045903 End of the Cooling Towers http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/209 I have been sadly lacking in blogs of late mainly because I have been concentrating on my own personal blogs but I thought my recent exploits should be shared here. Didcot Powerstation as we all have heard is now coming down. The first of the three cooling towers were blown up early one Sunday Morning witnessed by many thousand people. In the weeks leading up to the event the contractors announced they would be coming down on the 27th July between 3 & 5 am much to the annoyance of all the local people and councils. The contractors and owners said they had checked with the relevant people and this would be ok. Relevant people being Oxford County Council ?? Network Rail (ok the railway runs past) & the police
 They never asked the locals what they thought nor South Oxfordshire district Council & White Horse district Councils where the Powerstation is situated.
 When the site owner was interview and asked about people watching he said it was not a spectator even it was a demolition, then admitted he had asked his nephew to come and watch. When told that Network rail had no objections to it being put off till 6am he said they did not know that, nor did they know the railway was being closed the following weekend.
 All that said the time was set and people were told to stay away in case they got covered in dust. They seemed to forget that the Powerstation can be seen for miles around. Wittenham Clumps and the Rigeway being some great vantage points [[3508241]] [[1041761]]. Come the day of the event my sons and I went over to just outside Harwell to watch the event after I thought there would be too many people at Hagbourne hill and Harwell was a tad closer to the Powerstation. We got there at 2.40 [[4091868]] to find the roadside packed with people but were lucky to find a space to park. By 3am the road was nearly impassable and the roadside was lined with people waiting for the bang. We waited till just before 5 am for the event to happen[[4091873]]. One person had a twitter feed going so kept people up to date then we hear the warning bangs and next someone said they are falling. I just pressed the shutter release and fire off a burst getting thirty frames of the towers falling [[4089892]] [[4091877]] [[4091878]] [[4091881]] [[4091885]], then we heard the sound of the explosion just as the last tower collapsed to the ground. Little dust seem to come off. It seemed a long time to wait around for something that was over in less than ten seconds after that we went home. I took a couple of back up photos later in the day [[4091888]]and some of the Powerstation a few days later [[4099272]]. My wife said the explosion could be heard from where we lived miles away. Thousands of people came out to watch the event happen and Eon and their contractors must have had egg on their faces from the miss handling of the PR they could have gained from it. Instead as one local paper put it they snatched a humiliating Defeat from the jaws of Victory I hope they learn from this but somehow I doubt it.
 [[2635101]] Didcot Powerstation 1968-2013
 text/html 2014-06-02T18:44:42+00:00 David Smith 50.769980123209 -3.9371146657542 Back roads from Okehampton to North Tawton http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/208 A walk along the Devonshire Heartland Way (DHW), and then the Tarka Trail from just outside Okehampton to North Tawton. It was a chance to collect some new squares and use these two long distance paths. The DHW was little used, and very muddy in places. The Tarka Trail was mainly on roads with a final stretch beside the River Taw. It took four hours You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link . text/html 2014-05-18T21:08:33+00:00 David Smith 50.574505455878 -3.7878482908877 Not quite Ten Tors on Dartmoor http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/207 A seven mile walk which visited ten named tops on Dartmoor, but not all were named as tors. The walk was timed for the Tuesday after the Ten Tors expedition - why should young people have all the fun? - but there was no need for overnight camping, and the walk was rather shorter than the 35 or 45 or 55 miles of the weekend expedition You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link . text/html 2014-05-04T18:33:53+00:00 Gareth James 53.087695479435 -4.0694732974791 Snowdon via Miners' and Llanberis Paths http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/206 Snowdon from Llanberis. First caught the Snowdon Sherpa bus to Pen-y-pass then walked up via the Miners' Track and down the Llanberis Path. You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link . text/html 2014-05-04T10:34:51+00:00 Philip Halling 51.972868285359 -2.1542611267538 Remember the Battle of Tewkesbury http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/205 Today, 4th May 2014, is the 543rd anniversary of the Battle of Tewkesbury, a significant battle in the Wars of the Roses. Margaret of Anjou, Queen of the Lancastrian King Henry VI and their son Edward, Prince of Wales were marching north aiming to cross the River Severn at Tewkesbury to meet up with supporters in Wales. As the Lancastrian Army headed north it was being pursued by the Yorkist Army under King Edward IV. This pursuit culminated in the bloody battle at Tewkesbury which resulted in defeat for the Lancastrians with the deaths on the battlefield of many leading Lancastrian supporters, including Prince Edward, the only Prince of Wales to die in battle. Many others were executed after seeking sanctuary in Tewkesbury Abbey. Queen Margaret was captured and taken prisoner. With the anniversary in mind yesterday I took the opportunity to go to Tewkesbury and photograph the recently erected sculptures which commemorate the battle.
 [[3960625]] [[3960627]] [[3960630]] [[3960635]] [[3960652]] text/html 2014-05-01T20:24:10+00:00 David Howard 50.909936835865 0.97867390760011 The 2014 season begins http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/204 After summarising my winter activities and spring plans, I can now update with the good news (for me anyway) after a couple of weeks of long days I took my first long trip, extending my gap between points by almost ten miles. I used a ruler on the map to measure where I could go, and at the time the shortest journey was to Kent as opposite Cheltenham, either Dover (the longest) or Dungeness, which was a lot easier. [[3929677]] I plumped for the compromise, still adding more than the previous extensions, rather than endure the Ashford road again a year later with maybe 25 miles beyond and back. I knew the other route well as the family had a house in Rye in the 70s and is a slow but easy run, with the coast road to follow to Dungeness beyond. In fact the featured photo got 1000 views on Flickr within two days, by far a record many times higher than any other in the ten years I've been on it. I didn't pass the old place as there wasn't time, but saw the end of the road just to the right of here [[3929725]]

 It also meant by pure luck I could get a pre-Worboys sign in Wadhurst [[3930723]](I only add them now when they've been removed as it does tend to draw unwanted attention to them otherwise) which turned up in November when it was too dark to go (no street lights in Sussex) and another nearby I'd passed twice while it was obscured by scaffold. Having returned the following good news was all but one of the other planned journeys wouldn't increase my distance, and besides Dover or even Deal, which I won't be bothering to do, the only trip under 100 miles to stretch the gap was to Henley in Arden which I did about 15 years ago and is on the system if I feel like it. It meant the other one to Bournemouth was equalled in the opposite direction east, which saved me a job, and the other two planned are solely for new myriads, ST and TF when I get around to it. But my personal ambition is my map coverage and myriads are a nice extra but technically if you turn my red splodges round they'll still easily fit in four squares as unless they exceed 172 miles they always will, and I wasn't planning that as it would need to go somewhere like Somerset or Lincoln. When I had my old car it was a lot easier as nothing slowed it down on the motorway, but this one can't manage a slight incline without struggling towards 60mph and really not designed for them, and will investigate the trains to Peterborough in case that will cover TF plus a mile walk or so north.

 All I am doing now after what was an over six hour round trip to Kent is just finding anywhere I haven't been before and driving in a circle round the local roads to add as many new squares as possible. That has been Sundridge, [[3941287]] Tring [[3948170]] and Upton Park [[3952734]] so far, as well as many more locally including plenty of plants and flowers [[3954262]] [[3954260]] [[3954884]] [[3954265]] which isn't bad for a single month. But I can relax now knowing having waited almost six months to continue my project the largest part is completed, and now just going wherever I can for pleasure and won't feel guilty I haven't done one yet. That has taken over three years altogether since I began it bagging new myriads and compass point records, and any further will now be a bonus. text/html 2014-04-21T21:30:00+00:00 Rudi Winter 52.2119357426 -3.7357689044306 The source grounds of the Afon Irfon http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/203 14 Apr 2014

 A walk to start the season, with relatively little ascent but some tough terrain.

 Starting from the Tregaron-Abergwesyn mountain road near the turn-off to Dolgoch hostel [[3936536]], I took the forestry track onto Bryn Crwn [[3936735]], gaining height over Nant-ystalwyn farmhouse at the bottom of Dyffryn Tywi [[3936626]] fairly quickly. The landmark waterfall [[3936565]] visible from the road is mostly above this track, with a few further cascades after passing the road in a culvert. There were some sheep in Cwm Tadarn, including a tiny lamb [[3936713]] on its own making a lot of noise.

 Once at the top, a short section to largely felled forestry leads to a sheepfold by the forestry track with a funnel-shaped section of moorland [[3936985]] leading down to a wooden bridge across the Afon Irfon [[3937003]]. This must be an access point for stock movements onto and off the couple of hectads of contiguous moorland east of here. After the bridge, the path soon peters out, and I just headed roughly north [[3937673]] to a wedge of forest where the three source streams of the Irfon merge. This part was pleasant in the sunshine but slow going because of the tussocky and sometimes boggy ground. The three source streams needed crossing individually, two are easily jumpable [[3937721]] and the third is easily forded next to the forestry boundary fence.

 From here it is a short pathless stagger up a firebreak [[3937741]] (not shown on the map but evident on the satellite imagery) to the sharp bend in the main forestry track. It was good to be back on firm ground after a while, but this section is rather uninspiring [[3937961]], and so I was glad to be able to turn off the main track and onto a temporary one created during harvesting operations [[3937973]] (again, not shown on the map, but clearly visible in satellite imagery), which led me to the top of the steep cwm of the Nant yr Ergyd [[3938018]] - a good place to lie in the grass for a while and enjoy the sunshine and the view!

 A quick descent round the remaining forest leads into the open and fairly dry grassland of the valley, reaching the ancient track up Dyffryn Tywi just north of the point where the Nant yr Ergyd crosses it in an easy ford [[3938026]]. All that was left was about 3km of following this track [[3938238]] past Nant-ystalwyn and back to the mountain road.

 You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page Link .

 Trip profile:
 Link text/html 2014-03-07T13:45:25+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.679463865366 -6.0976199535521 Tighnaspeur - a circular walk http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/202 This was to be quite a significant walk for me as it involved completing my final grid square in the eastern block of the island. Furthermore, it was a 'green' gridsquare - and little wonder! Not only is it situated in one of the remotest parts of the island, but it has nothing within its 1 km square to entice the everyday walker. The Abhainn Staoin (bending/crooked river) flows diagonally NW to SE, almost dividing NR 4252 in half, but otherwise there is nothing but contours and a small moorland pool in this gridsquare.

 Undaunted by the prospect of 7 miles of tough walking, and spurred on by the thought of attaining my boggy goal, I chose the only dry, sunny day in a week of rain and hail to drive to Kintour, my walk's beginning. Now usually when embarking on a walk like this, anyone I meet at the start (and, to be honest, it's unusual to meet anyone on such occasions), asks where I'm going and then gasps in horror at the incredulity of it - "but it'll be so wet!" is the usual reply. And I nod and set off, disheartened before the walk's even begun. Today, however, I met two farmworkers who were actually almost envious of my having a whole day to walk like this. "Lovely day for it," the gamekeeper remarked as I took my first photo. [[3873904]]. I was in the mood for taking lots of photos; it had been so long since my last proper geograph walk. The farmland here is incredibly flooded - in some ways it was just as difficult walking across 'ice-rink' fields like this [[3873474]] as it was walking across the boggy moorland. The ATV track runs parallel to the Kintour River for a while, leading through a couple of gates before heading into native woodland. I looked west to the raised hillocks - duns and forts which form a spine across this eastern part of the island [[3873404]] and [[3873491]] Soon I'd be moving from the bright green of the fields to the monotonous and drab brown of the moorland beyond.

 To do this I had to walk through the trees, still wearing their winter dress, and past Cnoc Dhota (hillock of the stupid fellow, possibly) [[3873887]] and [[3873368]] I was very conscious that I had to cross the Kintour River, which was in full spate, and was not sure where I was going to be able to do this, having shunned the only bridge I knew was along this river. It's quite a climb to the northern edge of the woodland, but it is quite a welcome scene once you emerge from the darkness of the spindly trees [[3873514]]and [[3873899]].

 I was now heading directly west, or trying to, and getting more anxious about crossing the fast-flowing Kintour River. In the distance I could make out a ruin,[[3873891]] nestled beneath Dùnan an t-Soluis (Forts of the Light) [[3873684]]and [[3873892]] and decided to head for these ruins. This was easier said than done as I walked along the north banks of the Kintour River, looking for a suitable place to cross [[3873902]], [[3873445]] and [[3873534]]. Finally, I placed one welly gingerly into the water, gained my balance against the strong current, discovered that the water wasn't quite at the top of my wellies and strode cautiously across the pebbly-bottomed river, using my pole to steady me. Now on the south banks of the river I took more photos, [[3873424]], [[3873539]] and [[3873923]], before heading for the ruins [[3873889]]. There are a few remains of erstwhile dwellings here, although I have been unable to find out anything about their history.[[3873441]]. I paused here for a drink, conscious of the sound of the waterfall behind me and being drawn towards it.

 Finding the small waterfall involved a tiny detour and it's debatable it was actually worth it! [[3873925]]. If I'd been heading directly for Tighnaspeur now, I could have followed the Kintour River [[3873662]] and everything would have been hunky-dory but no, I had to get into NR4252, which involved heading gratuitously north up some gratuitous contours [[3873574]]. The views across this russet moorland were spectacular though [[3873895]] - a vast expanse of moorland which, if you didn't risk sinking into squelchy peat with every step you took, could be mistaken for the Islay equivalent of the Sahara Desert!

 Trying to edge my way into the next square across the boggy moorland was exceptionally difficult and I was glad I was on my own. Anyone else would have chosen the much easier route, failing to understand my mission in all of this. Flushing Snipe (the only bird life around) I trod carefully from one tussocky lump to another, occasionally testing the depth of the surrounding moorland with my pole and seeing it disappear further than I wanted my leg to! Once in the grid square I made no attempt to venture further north [[3872580]]. I would head for the Abhainn Staoin and Tighnaspeur.

 Which was actually much easier thought than achieved! Once more a river thwarted me - this time the Abhainn Staoin (Crooked or Bending River [[3873906]], [[3873912]], [[3873896]] [[3873903]] and [[3873709]]. These moorland rivers break up the monotony of the expansive moorland and are very pretty, often banked with scrubby woodland [[3873900]] and [[3873482]], but I hadn't to be enticed to follow its course. I didn't want to head too far south, certainly not as far as its confluence with the Kintour River, but I was forced to do so for a bit until I finally found a shallower part at which to cross - and a delightful little spot it was too [[3873926]].

 Not long after crossing the river and trying to follow a roughly south-west bearing, I happened upon a totally unexpected ruin [[3873469]]. I scrutinized the map, but, no, it definitely wasn't marked. Should I take another short detour to go and inspect this small ruin? I knew I'd regret it if I didn't so I tussock-to-tussocked across to the remains of its walls and decided here was as good a place as any to have lunch.[[3873704]] I love ruminating on what the purpose of such buildings once was, who used them and what difficulties and joys did they experience during the time this once purposeful building was used?

 Pondering too the unwelcome thought of treading the same ground at the height of the summer when the prolific bracken would be an added hindrance, I now followed a tributary of the Kintour and Staoin rivers, heading southwest [[3873913]] and [[3873909]]. It seemed the best course to follow the river, and to try to find deer paths through the relentless moor grass [[3873918]] and [[3873911]]. I became quite disorientated here, expecting to approach Tighnaspeur from the north and not having the time or energy to study the map properly (the bog walking was exhausting and taking longer than I thought and I was due at work at 6 pm). Surrounded by boggy moorland there was no sign of my destination [[3873565]] and [[3873408]].

 I suddenly came upon a spot I recognised and realised my mistake. I could see the tree-topped chimney of my ruin 100 metres north of where I stood and I ran recklessly towards it (OK, maybe I moved up from first to 3rd gear!) [[3873931]] Basking in sunshine with views across to Loch nan Clach and the sea beyond, this is an ideal location for a hide away. [[2819637]] I'd love to be able to go inside and explore, but this renovated ruin is kept locked. It was tempting to linger, but the Co-op called (6pm start) and I knew it was a couple of hours walk back to the car.

 I headed straight for the ATV track and the collapsed bridge across the river [[3873377]]. I briefly greeted Loch nan Clach (Loch of the Stone) as I passed at some distance [[3873677]] and looked back to Tighnaspeur (Sky Cottage), looking very indistinct amongst its surrounding camouflage. [[3873542]] Heading for the 'backbone' of forts via the well-defined (if boggy) ATV track, [[3873666]], [[3873894]] and [[3873698]], I was on the constant look out for anything that moved. This is not a good walk if you want to see lots of wildlife, but there are a few things you can almost predictably see: Ravens, Red Deer and Snipe. At the beginning of the walk, through the woodland I had seen tits and finches, but now I was looking for something much bigger - the King of the Air.

 I was not disappointed; just as I reached one of the forts, a Golden Eagle flew directly overhead [[3873919]]. I watched it for a few minutes - undeterred by my meanly presence it soared above me and I was envious of its speed and mastery. Humbled, I paused to take yet more photos of this seldom-viewed eastern hinterland [[3873888]] before continuing my earth bound way, weary and heavy laden. Heading east towards the visible phone mast of Tallant and glad of this navigational aid, I walked between Leac Eìdhne and An Dùn [[3873714]]. As I cleared the contours of An Dùn, the shimmering waters of Loch Carn a' Mhaoil came into view [[3873552]]. For some reason this is one of my favourite lochs on the island. I have no idea why. I had not time to linger, however, and left it basking in sunshine, with its stegosaurus-like backbone of forts and duns lying prominent to its northwest [[3873523]].

 I now felt as if I was on the homeward leg of my long walk. Tired though I was, I took time to notice the blue sky and cirrus cloud above me [[3873500]], crowning Beinn Bheigier [[3873399]] and [[3873907]]. A towering cumulonimbus cloud lay to my north, above the Stegosaurus backbone of duns [[3873672]]. I had been hailed upon already by such clouds; the onslaughts being heavy, but brief and I reveled in this variety of weather - extreme or not.

 Still stopping regularly to record my walk in photos, I plodded on, following the boggy ATV track as closely as possible. Most times it was more flooded than the surrounding moorland [[3873922]] and [[3873546]], but occasionally it made for easier walking [[3873917]]. Dipping briefly (and unintentionally) into NR4450 [[3873692]], I was soon looking across to Loch Tallant [[3873898]] and then the gamekeeper's house at Tallant itself [[3873928]].

 Glad to be back on the road, I only had about half a mile left of my 7.1 walk - but it seemed a long half a mile! The fields here were still showing signs of the heavy rainfall we've experienced this winter [[3873915]], although nothing like that of further south. As my car came within sight, I paused at the bridge at Kintour Farm to take my last photo - the benign-looking Kintour River. I'd virtually traced its twists and turns to its source near Tighnaspeur. It was satisfying now, at the end of my journey, to be rejoining the river near its own journey's end [[3873372]]. text/html 2012-04-27T23:58:58+00:00 Anne Burgess 57.013439643559 -6.2764141285867 Geologising on the Isle of Rum http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/121 Undaunted by the experience of the rain the same weekend five years ago, I signed up for a weekend field trip with the Highland Geological Society to see something of the famous geology of the Isle of Rùm. Most of the group were to arrive on the ferry leaving Mallaig at 7.30 on the Saturday morning, but I reckoned that would mean getting up far too early, and I thought I'd go over on the Thursday and, weather permitting, walk to Harris and back on Friday. But the best laid plans .... I discovered there is no ferry on a Thursday, so Harris will have to wait. I booked to stay on Rùm on Friday night, and set off from Inverness with bags of time for stopping and geographing on the way.

 Half an hour out, and I came across a nasty accident. Two cars had collided, and one had gone over the edge and down the brae towards the loch, so it looked as if the road would be closed for a long time while the rescue services extricated the victims and got them to hospital. After a few minutes' thought I realised that because I had set off so early I might still make it if I went back to Inverness and took the B road down the east side of Loch Ness. It was, to put it mildly, a stressful trip, what with wondering about the accident victims, worrying about whether I had enough time, and coping with the single track roads and later with people doing 30 mph on the twisty bits of the main road where it's never safe to overtake, but I did make it with enough time to don my boots, sort out my rucksacks and buy my ticket. After all that, the ferry was late because of a technical problem, so I even had time to go and buy some food.

 The sea was like a millpond, and we saw Great Northern Divers, Black Guillemots, Guillemots, Razorbills and quite a variety of other birds, and got a glimpse of some dolphins, before docking at the new pier - not so new now, because it was there five years ago, but still new compared to the one I had used in 1971 on my first visit to Rùm. On the ferry was a family of parents, an eleven-year-old and an eight-year-old, arriving to take up a new life on a croft, one of the first two made available by the trust which now owns the land around Kinloch.

 The hostel manager collected all the bags and headed for the castle, leaving passengers free to enjoy the mile or so of walking to the castle unencumbered by luggage. The hostel is the servants' quarters of the castle, and it wasn't long before I'd lugged my rucksacks up to my room and was at leisure to set off for a walk round the north side nature trail. This basically consists of a path going round a circuit of a couple of miles along the top of the land that used to be cultivated, then down by the Primrose Falls and back along the Kinloch River. On the way I came across the new crofters, who had managed to get the horsebox containing their possessions on to their land, only get get it bogged down. Their land is boggy at the entrance, which is near the Kinloch River, and rises gently to the wall east of the Primrose Burn. There are rushes in the low ground, and coarse grasses higher up. They are going to have a lot of work to get it all into shape. Once they have been there for a while, they will decide where to build their house, possibly on the higher ground, where they can use the Primrose Burn for water and hydro power. I wish them the best of luck with their undertaking.

 At dinner, there was only one other guest, a chap who is doing a PhD in philosophy, his topic being related to the aesthetics of the environment. He explained it at some length to me, but not being a philosopher I'm afraid I don't think I really understood it. In fact I know I didn't. At one point I asked how it was possible to consider aesthetics independently of the eye of the beholder, and he replied that that might turn out to be the fundamental question he would need to address. The dinner, by the way, was superb; a fruit salad to start with, excellent fresh fish and chips, and a baked apple for dessert. A dinner very much to my taste.

 Saturday morning saw me waiting in ambush for the rest of the party as they arrived off the early ferry from Mallaig, mostly (unlike me) short of sleep. Then, major setback! The leader for the weekend had been obliged to cry off, leaving us leaderless. After a bit of milling around and polite discussion, we agreed to follow Excursion 2 in the geological guide, and set off up the path towards Coire Dubh. We noted the Torridonian sandstone at our feet and to our north generally, and how the older rocks were becoming distorted as we approached the Northern Marginal Zone. Mudstones cut by dykes followed, and then we were actually on the ring fault which defines the extremity of Rùm's igneous complex.

 Eddie, armed with his new pride and joy, an iPad with all the relevant excursion guides, maps, GPS gizmo, locality grid references, supporting literature and lots of apps, slipped into the role of leader. Admiring dykes and way-up structures, we climbed past the dam that supplies the island's hydro-electric turbines. Above it is a spectacular gorge - is it a fault or did it form by eroding a dyke? We ate lunch reclining on an outcrop of amazing breccia, with angular - some rectangular - fragments of sandstone and other rocks blasted into smithereens by the volcano. Above the breccia is rhyodacite, the result of a high-silica, viscous lava being erupted from the volcano. An outcrop clearly shows magma mixing - rather a misnomer, I always think, because the only reason you can see it is that the magma didn't actually mix, but interfingered, leaving blobs of one type in among blobs of the other. Climbing again, up to a small loch which is steadily vanishing as the vegetation spreads across its surface. In a few years' time, it will just be another place to get wet(ter) feet! But at the far side there is indeed an outcrop with lapilli - small round accretionary bodies formed during an eruption. A red deer stag watched from above, not unduly concerned by our presence until someone ran (!) up to the top of the outcrop, when he retreated to a nearby glen, still watching. The rest of us followed at a more sedate pace. The excursion guide says this excursion goes up to about 350 metres. We were already at the 400-metre contour and there was more uphill to go.

 Then I began to get a bit confused, because I couldn't quite see how the geological map relates to the topographical map. There's supposed to be a tongue of gabbro across the hill near the view point, but the angles are confusing. Never mind, maybe it will all become clear when I find my big geological map and get my own copy of the guide. We got a superb view down over the east side of Rùm and over the sea towards Eigg and the mainland, and also up to Hallival, with the most resistant gabbro layers sticking out of the mountain side like a series of shelves. On the bealach we examined some of the layered gabbros, then set off straight down in search of ignimbrite with fiamme. I had some misgivings about this because the map showed a very steep slope, but it turned out not to be as bad as I had feared, and everyone made it safely to the bottom. Then we realised that we were below the ignimbrites, so started climbing again. By the time we had given up on finding the fiamme I was close to losing the will to live, and there was a threat of rain. So I headed downhill to the remains of the dam which used to contain a small reservoir in Coire Dubh, and then, gratefully because suddenly, and for no apparent reason, my right foot was in agony, back down to the hostel to shed wet waterproofs and constricting footwear, relax a bit and then enjoy a good three course dinner.

 Sunday wasn't quite so bright but at least it started out fair. We set off up Kinloch Glen, noting the machine which was used to crush rock to resurface the road to Harris so that Bullough and his pals could race their cars to Harris and back. We diverted to the foot of the waterfall on Allt Bealach Mhic Neill to see spherulites, which are evidence of baking of the rocks at the contact. I think. We were disconcerted to notice later on that there were even better specimens of spherulite in the road surface, though we couldn't work out where they had been quarried from. Another quarry, further up, seemed to have been filled in so we could not find the specific stuff we were looking for, but it provided the opportunity for a rest and a slight refreshment. Taking the Harris road, we crossed the burn from Long Loch and speculated about the weirs and the aqueducts, and the remains of Salisbury's dam on the headwaters of the Kilmory River.

 The guide showed an outcrop where troctolite layers have been deformed by boulders falling into them while they were still not fully solidified, and we spent a while roaming around near the map reference supplied, until we finally found exactly the spot in the illustration, about 50 metres from the map reference. I was about to photograph it, the hollow left by the stone being nicely marked by being full of water, when someone who shall remain nameless stepped in front of me and, as I and others protested, quickly scooped all the water out and spoilt the picture!

 Noting that I was only a few yards from a 'new-to-me' grid square, I made a detour up the road to Malcolm's Bridge, then returned to find the rest of the party ensconced on some outcrops of peridotite having lunch, which was most welcome.

 Afterwards we set off south in the general direction of Long Loch, which we discover is entirely artificial, being formed by damming both ends of the glen in order to divert water into the Kinloch River to imrpve the fishing.

 This next stretch was, for me, the highlight of the weekend. We walked down a gently sloping ridge of lovely dry peridotite, fomed by a gentle fold with a southward-dipping axis. A dream to walk over, and stuffed full of interesting features revealing the history of the gabbro. Half-way along, we found and investigated a rough shelter of rocks and bits of tarpaulin lurking in the shelter of a small crag.

 We did get a bit wet after the ridge had disappeared under the bog, and we had to cross the burn where it enters the loch, watched by some yellow-eyed and very shaggy feral goats. Eventually we reached the dam, from which we enjoyed the view south along the glen where the burn used to flow down towards the south coast. From here there was a steepish scramble up to a rather fine example of a fold in the gabbro.

 At this point, the party split into two. The more intrepid ones headed upwards to return to Kinloch via four or five kilometres of untracked moor and bog, taking in some more spectacular outcrops on the way. Having noted rain clouds sweeping in across the southern hills, I wimped out and decided to head for the road and return by the longer but, I hoped, easier route.

 In the event this route involved a descent back to cross the glen below the dam, followed by what seemed like an interminable climb up the other side, though it was only a couple of hundred metres, in intermittent heavy showers. We did see many more outcrops of gabbro on the way, and some views of lochs that would have been stunning in fine weather, but for me rain always takes the edge of anything of that sort, and even with good protective clothing I don't really enjoy it. Fortunately the rain cleared after we reached the road, so I was able to punctuate the long slog back down to Kinloch with a few photographic stops.

 .... to be continued, mods please don't approve it yet! text/html 2014-02-14T17:11:07+00:00 David Howard 51.569122025754 0.011403546642023 Looking ahead http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/201 I was delighted this week when it was as light at 5pm as it was at midday (OK, we all know it's really 1pm and 6pm, but this country has to be out of step with the rest of Europe), as after a couple of months hibernating and only able to do the odd trip south at weekends when there was little or no traffic slowing me down I could now start the first ventures beyond the main red blob on my map again. My Fuji compact, bought after the Olympus had finally stopped producing uncorrupted photos, had the added bonus of being able to take usable photos at night, so although I'd already replaced the Olympus with a Lumix bridge, it wasn't very good at night so only used it when I was somewhere anyway and took a chance a few would pass muster. That allowed me to venture along new roads at night as well as planned daytime excursions in better times, but no replacement for the real thing planning a route and getting it all done with time to spare.

 [[3825687]]

 So February kicked off with my trip east, following one the previous week for a road sign in South Tottenham, [[3838016]] and found the traffic heading that way had improved since a few years ago when it became almost impossible to get through at any time of day. The simple reason for this was the river Lea divides what used to be Middlesex and Essex, and unlike the Thames only has a bridge every couple of miles or so, around five in total north of docklands where it originates plus a few near the mouth there. That funnels every single vehicle on either Lea Bridge Road (logical captain), Ferry Lane [[3846816]] (a ferry today would be very useful as well as the bridge), The North Circular Road, [[2247067]] and the final before reaching Hertfordshire/Essex (it still forms the border), the impassable Southbury Road in Enfield, where I have on a number of occasions had to turn back, and now use the next one up, besides the M25 and Waltham Abbey, in Broxbourne the most [[2794670]] as however far out it is there is no traffic getting there as a rule and just use it to go further north into Essex rather than faff around in what are really the London suburbs to the south served by the Central Line.

 That gave me two options to kick off the new season heading east, as it has more green space due to the traffic issues, NE through Chingford and east through Walthamstow. Amazingly the traffic until West Green Road was fine, but made up for it there and although I made the right turn at Walthamstow where the green area began it was so busy from there onwards, mainly due to no road going anywhere in particular but winding at random, with junctions every few hundred yards with associated traffic lights, I ran out of steam at Leytonstone and headed north for the return leg rather than plough on east with the sun beginning to set. But I bagged nine new squares and proved it's still possible to head that way without a total gridlock. There is only a month now before it gets dark at 6pm, and have my 2014 photo list complete but happy if I just break one more distance record, as now I have to go 80 miles to do so, including another myriad. The first may be a pretty winding journey for a road sign discovered in November but on roads in Sussex without street lighting so not really a good idea to do them in the dark. Pre-Worboys signs have priority as they can vanish at any time while places are always there. I am checking the train timetables for journeys both north and south and will see if I can get where I want without more than one change at the most, and if so give that a go if possible. It takes longer to get to the terminals in the centre of London to get a fast train so have to use my local stations which of course aren't on the fast timetables very often and have to get off somewhere half way to pick up the train I would have got from the centre, but at least do not have to waste over an hour getting into Kings Cross or Victoria instead.

 Otherwise I have graded my trips by distance, with routes in all directions depending how long I have to do them. Each year of course mops up a good deal, leaving fewer and fewer I can reach in less than an hour nowadays, with the time gradually increasing as I do each one. Unlike holidays these trips have to factor in a stop per mile on average for a new square, or I'd just have a few freckles on the map rather than lines, which I much prefer as you don't often go the same way twice to do them another time. Over the years I have learnt every traffic jam point for miles around and either avoid them or if I really have to go through them say a prayer and hope, like Bishops Stortford [[2917599]] which can be dreadful but opens up the whole of mid-Essex and Suffolk once you get beyond it. Hertford on the way is even worse, [[2323309]] but again the alternatives barely exist. Going due south (besides when I find road signs there) cannot be extended as the coast begins 50 miles south so can't go any further, there's only the pointy bit of Kent in TR which has only just been scratched, [[3422632]] but takes so long to get to (mainly since they charged to cross Waterloo Bridge and pick up the A2 or A20 beyond the Old Kent Road [[2617928]] to whizz down towards Folkestone) I don't plan that again in a hurry. Finally my next plan is the Sunday one through SE London, the only day the roads there are passable, and intend to drive the entire length of the South Circular from Sheen to Woolwich, even beyond if it's still light. text/html 2013-10-16T02:36:48+00:00 David Howard Keeping the momentum http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/200 Following my last entry I had about six weeks before the clocks go back (less time now) and wasn't going to make a fool of myself trying to get anywhere really ambitious to get held up and it get dark before I made it there. As it happened I found a few old road signs in Henley on Thames after checking because there was one known there, none were new to me but better condition, plus one which may or may not be council issued which certainly was new to me, no way to river. In the end the one I wanted more had been removed (the post was still there), as it was the only other right one way street, mine being very worn as the paint needed redoing. But two nice no entries, very rare and one was in fairly good nick, and a left one way street (about my 7th, no idea why the unbalance as they simply depend which side of the road they were placed regardless). I refrain from adding them here as my little collectors group (226 members currently) all find when they give locations some vanish soon afterwards. I do add mine here if they do vanish as then it's a record, but although many have been which are still present it's probably safer not to, so none to be displayed here. Henley was also in a green gap so well worth the relatively easy trip via Maidenhead, and carried on to Bix before turning back.

 Having enjoyed the magic of seeing my trips arrive on the map on the geotrips I saw so many people had done walks that became my next mission, and as you can't get many squares without being a seasoned distance walker I wasn't planning to do it for them, and just checked to see areas I'd barely taken any photos. That has produced one or two a week since I started, the latest all being taken in heavy rain as it started the minute I arrived.

 [[3699811]] being a typical example, with maybe a quarter failing the weather test and not making publication. I've seen so many corners a road or two from the main ones I'd never have bothered to otherwise, and some interesting old council signs, a whole bunch like these in Southgate which included directions to both house numbers and local locations normally found on signposts.

 [[3670009]] This bunch bumped up my total in the square to 39 as each was a pair, covered three roads and then quite a few on the shopping parade pointing to where the shops were. Having grown up in an area where most roads were linked by paths and I explored them all on my bike, I take every path and alleyway I see, this was just one example [[3669612]]. I also discovered much of Kensal Rise, where I'd passed through for a few years once a week to college actually has a lot of very nice houses in it behind the main roads such as these [[3691510]]. In fact it seems although leaving a gap in Cricklewood the Golders Green style of houses did continue south to parts of Brondesbury where I went the previous week and Kensal Rise, which I always thought were a few exceptions till now. I walked where no car can pass in Edgware, as an entire area bounded by four A roads will not cross the stream at any point by road, so had never gone to look there till now.

 Of course that meant the only way across was by my favourite paths [[3682101]] [[3682103]] [[3682096]] so plenty of new material there. And also another favourite, a footbridge over a dual carriageway. [[3682067]] I also discovered at least three parks I didn't know existed although there are others a few blocks away I did, [[3691401]] [[3691493]] [[3669462]]. Finally I filled in various gaps around my own patch, I have five full hectads so far so need to go a bit further now for new territory, but covered Norwood [[3676146]] Henley of course [[3665566]] (also allowing me to add a couple of old scans as I won't add any pre-digital photos to gain a new square as they are so random) and adding some more to TQ17, meaning I can now finish it in one more visit. [[3697702]]

 Overall I've been squashing in as much photographic activity as possible during the end of the season, as after October it's saved videos, meditation and paperwork till the clocks go forward, as well as a few local walks if it's light and dry enough. Plus any old road signs that turn up, as I can use the flash for them. text/html 2013-08-15T23:48:42+00:00 David Howard 51.892040759646 -2.0522655276794 Mission complete http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/198 July 29th actually saw the completion of a two year mission here, after uploading about 4,000 archives over winter 2010 I began making specific Geographing trips, with ambitions to get into all the compass points and adjacent myriads. I was very busy last year doing a trip a week on average during the long days, sharing the driving, and knocked off myriads SZ, TV, TR and finally TM after having driven into a field the first time and having to return to actually cross the line on the following week.

 I then began part two, extending the furthest points between red spots, going NW to Bourton on the Hill [[3093355]] and SE to Battle, [[3113459]] to complete the 2012 leg of the mission. Having covered a few thousand miles on the clock the following year was to be far more specific, and also had the great fortune to find over ten more pre-Worboys signs all over the SE meaning they had priority as you can turn up a week later to find them gone even after lasting over 50 years initially. So while aiming to beat my distance and add another myriad, my first creating four in a row (edges, but they all count) I was hopping off to Sussex and Kent which were turning up a couple a week via both Streetview, existing sites with photos, and random chance when driving there and back spotting even more. The overlapping job was going to Braintree to get my first ever yellow bordered pre-Worboys sign with more than one name on it [[3497516]] (more common on major roads so removed before the ones tucked away or just for local places).

 Within a week or two of the clocks going back I got to Ashford [[3422675]], and with no A-Z (when I collected old train tickets in the 80s I'd buy one of every city I visited as I went to ten or more stations in a day) just tried to aim east to extend my limit, took wrong turnings and recovered and meant I covered far more squares doing so than expected plus a little one extra when a roundabout turned out to have a fifth exit when I took the fourth. Then weeks of going south for the rich vein of signs which cropped up possibly faster than at any time since I started looking in 2008. That got me to Sissinghurst, Steyning (I though that had gone but turned out the reason I couldn't see it on Streetview was a hedge had grown across it which I removed), High Brooms, Sunninghill [[3318686]], Windsor, Haslemere, Chatham [[3457215]] and Cuckfield [[3400443]] before finally making it to Braintree (the route there is littered with bottlenecks and was lucky I had a free run after the previous visit). I then continued searching and found a quite probably unique beauty in Sawbridgeworth [[3508890]], also allowing me to pick up Harlow's 13th and apparently last pre-Worboys direction sign, followed by a second road number arrow with two names on it in Aldershot. Sadly the advice has been not to geolocate pre-Worboys signs still in place as many have coincidentally vanished soon after it has happened anywhere in the past, so I now add them here when I find they've gone already. There is no way of proving a connection between revelation and removal but any risk is not worth it.

 That completed every single sign known for the first time since I'd begun looking (unless you include one in Hutton which requires a half mile walk through a field, and on railway property although still counts as they were usually located on public roads) so was then set to just add a new myriad before the clocks went back, which my father generously offered to take me on the 29th to save my energy for photography. The camera performed incredibly well on the move, not the fancy new one which couldn't focus from a moving vehicle, but the old compact which hadn't done that well the last time I tried so stopped, but didn't have the time to keep stopping on the 80 mile plus journey so just took regular shots out of the window which amazed me in nearly all being not just usable but quite respectable.

 All other trips are now optional for me, and can now return to what I did before Geograph specific trips, taking nice and interesting views.

 [[3597759]] [[3596652]] [[3594468]]

 [[3592828]] [[3592789]]

 [[3581507]]
 The camera goes almost everywhere with me and take whatever I see that catches my eye I haven't taken before. Of course I would like to add more indefinitely, but it will now need 80 plus miles each time to stretch my coverage, and can always potter around filling in green spaces between the red ones when I have the time as well. I wouldn't dream of trying to compete with anyone else here, like the gym you can't do more than beat your own records as everyone's circumstances are different. But it's very satisfying having both done that and all of them now. text/html 2013-07-01T19:05:27+00:00 Toby Speight 56.971860723344 -6.6833659201879 Hyskeir and Rum kayak trip http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/197 I'm normally wary of using the word "remote", as it's such a subjective thing. To a Londoner, the Scottish Highlands probably seems very remote, but for those of us who live there, it's England and the south that seems remote. However, even in my book, Hyskeir qualifies as "remote", with the nearest habitation more than 10km away across often rough seas.

 I'd had my eye on Hyskeir for a couple of years before I got free time and good weather co-temporally. The idea was to get out to the light and explore the island, but I knew I couldn't do it in one day from Skye or mainland Scotland. Fortunately, there are a couple of bothies on Rum in just the right places to divide the trip out and the trip back.

 (For a view of this trip plotted on a map, see the Geo-trips entry: Link )

 On the Monday evening, I set off from Elgol at 5pm (I failed to leave at 3pm because I left my spraydeck at home and had to return for it - doh!) and passed Soay before heading toward the sound of Canna. About halfway between Soay and Rum, a small pod of dolphin crossed my path from right to left, heading roughly towards Eigg. I then followed the coast, passing the wreck of the Jack Abry II [[2391550]], and reaching Guirdil [[643000]] around 9.30pm. Smoke from the chimney told me I'd have company, and a pleasant evening was spent. Not too late, as I needed a prompt start in the morning!

 I managed to pack up and leave around 9 o'clock on the Tuesday, steering a direct course for the lighthouse. This took me within sight of the tiny protruding rock of Humla (Uamola) [[1882198]]. On arrival, I briefly put ashore to consult the map, and set off in search of Mill Rocks (NM12159351) but made an error entering lat/long into the GPS - 6° 41.1' W instead of 6° 44.1'. Once I fixed that, it was another 30 minutes to the right spot, so I'd missed low tide by nearly an hour, and so we still don't know whether NM1293 may have an extreme low-tide Geograph or not.

 Returning to Hyskeir, I made a circuit of the island. I had planned to put ashore and explore on foot, but it was starting to rain so I just looked from the sea. Even from this disadvantaged position, there's plenty to see. Wildlife included seals, geese, guillemots and puffins. And three Geographs completed the hectad: [[3534816]] [[3534818]] [[3534821]].

 Circumnavigation complete, it was time to aim for Dibidil. According to the GPS, it's 25km away, so another big crossing was ahead. Rum disappeared inside a raincloud, so I had to trust the technology to take me the right way. The only evidence I saw of humans between leaving the lighthouse and seeing the bothy was a CalMac ferry about 5 miles off my starboard beam (presumably the Oban to Lochboisdale service). Truly a remote place!

 Slowly Rum drew closer and the cloud lifted a little to reveal the lower slopes. I grabbed a Geograph of the Fist and Finger rocks [[3534827]], but it was getting a bit gloomy for photography and I was getting a bit low on energy, so I made that the last of the day. I worked my way around the rugged southern tip of Rum, and was highly relieved when I saw the bothy, which hid until the last possible moment [[7294]]. It was occupied, and I received help in getting ashore, which was very welcome in my fatigued condition. On downloading my tracklog, it turned out that I'd paddled 57.4 km, exceeding my previous maximum Link by 10%. I slept very well that night.

 On Wednesday morning, I was able to put off getting back in my kayak, as a boat was due with building materials for the bothy [[1069026]]. I helped unload it, then, out of excuses, I put in and set a direct course for Elgol. Still tired, I paddled steadily and slowly and eventually the remaining distance grew less and less. I allowed myself a couple of minutes for a food break halfway, then pushed on until I found myself fighting the waves washing up on the Strathaird coast. Nearly there!

 I finally arrived back in Elgol [[2391375]] with over a hundred kilometres of sea travelled, and aches all over - but also a big smile!

 Monday: 24.2 km, 4h 20
 Tuesday: 57.4 km, 11h 28
 Wednesday: 25.8 km, 5h 33
 TOTAL: 107.4 km, 21h 22 text/html 2011-07-12T18:16:28+00:00 Toby Speight Four locations around Applecross http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/71 Fine weather and a weekend unexpectedly to myself gave me an opportunity to clear up a few squares around Applecross that have been outstanding for a while. First, it was to the Kishorn Yard[[2500541]], where I was able to get surprisingly close to the old construction dock. From there, I was forced to head back uphill for a bit, around the boundary fence, to get some shots of the nearby shoreline[[2500546]][[2500549]]. Then a sweaty reascent to the road, and in the car up to Cuaig.

 Just a single square to grab at Cuaig, missed from the previous weekend's kayak trip. I had hoped to photograph the beacon at the northern end of the square, but I failed to find it, and settled on a scene of waves lapping the rocks at the shore.[[2500570]]

 In the car again to Inverbain, and the longest walk of the day, up the path that leads to Applecross Bay, leaving before the col to get pictures of Loch Lundie[[2500588]] and Abhainn Dubh[[2500591]], returning via the new hydro scheme.

 Finally, I stopped off at the summit of the A896 between Shieldaig and Kishorn, and trotted up the southern end of Ben Shieldaig[[2500599]]. I was tired and hungry by this point, so I spurned the summit and drove home from there.

 You can see this trip plotted on a map on the Geo-trips page: Link text/html 2013-06-01T23:44:18+00:00 Lewis Clarke 51.073642808352 -3.4644311817933 Overzealous Policing http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/195 A lovely day in the sunshine, a chance to go out and about taking photos in the countryside.
 Today Saturday 1 June 2013 I decided to head out to West Somerset. I hadnt been there for a while, and there were a few Geograph squares just north of Wimbleball I thought Id go and have a nice long walk in the sunshine there.
 Parking at around 3:30pm and making sure my GPS satellite was on, I headed out from the lake towards Withiel Florey and Treborough, as I got back to where I started at around 8:30pm I had a phone call from my mother.
 Ive had the police on the phone! she said.
 Youve left your keys in the car and they are there waiting for you to get back as theyre looking after the car for you.
 Following this conversation I did feel a little embarrassed about the situation, and was fully expecting the police to tell me how stupid it was to have a lapse of concentration and leave my keys in the ignition.
 When I got back what I did not expect was three officers, two police cars, and my own vehicle with all the doors and the boot open in the process of being searched.
 I was pulled aside by one officer and told that they could smell a whiff of cannabis around my car, and after looking at my pupils which are naturally larger than most - they had reasonable grounds to search.
 By this point it seemed leaving the keys in the ignition was the least of their issues.
 After the officer PC Hill and PC Lockes from Minehead had gone where no man should touch on another guy I was told in no uncertain terms by the officer who was adamant I had been smoking the wacky baccy that if I did not admit to hiding the drugs on me or in my car, that he would have no problem in taking me back to Minehead station and giving me a full strip search.
 He gave me a form to say I had been searched, but didnt say why because he said it may upset my mum even though she knows, and as I mentioned to the officer that I dont even take paracetamol.
 My car was still being searched, and then I was asked why I was there, how long I had been there for, and why on earth I had been around taking photographs in the countryside.
 Apparently, they had received reports that two people had been around in balaclavas so I was told that when you cover your face, people who had apparently been following me or had seen me would feel intimidated.
 Now, putting this together, I came to the conclusion that somebody had maybe been in the car park causing problems and smoking dope. A member of public phoned the police to report their behaviour. And due to my car being at the scene with the key in the ignition in order to make a potential quick getaway, they pointed the finger at me.
 Whats more, is that they were overzealous with the planned badger cull taking place in West Somerset. I was asked if I had an interest in badgers, wildlife, and the officer told me he had strong reason to believe that I was a member of an anarchist badger supporting group hence taking photos of the countryside even though I had already told him I was taking photos of the countryside for Geograph.
 This wasnt helped when my final year journalism project about the badger cull was still in the back of my car, and as they had searched every nook and cranny of it, they happened to come about it.
 In the end, the officers went away thinking I was some lefty liberal badger anarchist, who had stashed away a balaclava somewhere, and that I was also a frequent user of cannabis.
 I was told to not wear a balaclava in public as they intimidate people, I was warned that I should always take a five minute rest before driving when on the wacky baccy, and I was also told that some people are led astray by professionals in anti-badger groups.
 Apparently I am now on police intelligence file as a potential user of cannabis as well as a potential member of Harlech which is against the badger cull. If I get told off again they will link back to this and put it all together to make another wrong impression.
 text/html 2013-06-11T22:43:33+00:00 David Howard 51.900402911646 0.54948677219808 The new season http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/196 This year I set myself three simple goals for the photography season (April-September while the clocks are forward), to beat the distance between two squares, ideally enough to potentially beat two myriads horizontally or vertically (nowhere like diagonally which adds 50 miles), from 122.8 miles to beyond 125, which I did shortly after, adding one just short of 130 in Ashford. South of London is now completed unless I do the old run using Waterloo Bridge when it was still free to cross during the day, heading towards the east Kent peninsula. Otherwise it's north and west remaining for the second trip, ideally one adding a myriad, and none less than 80 miles as that's now the record to beat. The second plan was to get Robin Webster's amazing find of a multi-destination pre-Worboys yellow sign, something so familiar in London till Ken Livingstone removed them all around 2001 I forgot to take pictures of them, all to Hatfield, Aylesbury and even South Wales around the area I lived in. The only others were 200 miles away plus, way past the level of a reasonable journey, so had to get that while it was still there and with work busier than usual during the week for over a month (that's not that busy but busier than before) wasn't possible till now.

 [[3422342]]

 Meanwhile the compensation which was well worth it was I had been searching south of London instead for my weekends and in five searches discovered eight new signs including two I only discovered while driving home by total chance. So I already had a profit from being prevented from going there for so long and finally got the chance last week and managed it without any drawbacks, and being diverted right instead of left due to the absence of directions anywhere in Braintree gained many more interesting squares than returning on the main road as planned, including many with only one or two photos on them. I got a second sign on the way in Felsted which I hadn't even known where it was till I discovered this one in Braintree and saw it was nearby. So ten signs for the price of two was an amazing deal, as I hit Streetview hard every week when I couldn't head east and it had plenty of treasure.

 [[3497570]] [[3497516]] [[3490989]] [[3468035]]

 Now I can relax, as no places can shift anywhere and could go somewhere else if any do, and just want to finish the planned jobs for 2013 so the house and garden can get the attention they need, and a few friends I need to visit. If the next is done there are always more, but not scheduled for this year unless I felt like it. Road wise I've worked out the easiest of the possible runs and am also checking the train timetables to see if any of them offer an easy run somewhere as well like I always used to do. text/html 2013-05-30T20:00:24+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.761182035624 -6.074299226425 Glas Bheinn's spurs http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/194 OK, so I'd just learnt this new term 'spur' and was keen to get as much usage out of it as possible; plus there were several gridsquares I wanted to bag in the area and the forecast for the day looked good. Not having been able to persuade any friends to come a walk with me (they've all grown wise to what that term means!), and knowing I'd be doing a lot of gratuitous walking, I set off solo on what was to be a long day's walk. I'd come prepared with enough food for an army.

 Reluctantly I'd curtailed my even more mammoth walk, which was to include a stop at the bothy on the Sound of Islay and changed my starting point from Kynagarry to Storakaig. To be honest, both approaches have become rather tedious to me; I hate to admit it, but there you go. I'd walked from Kynagarry more frequently than Storakaig so decided on the latter on this occasion.

 With cloud just swirling round the top of my destination I set off, fully laden and went through the gate just before reaching the gamekeeper's cottage at Storakaig. [[2038933]]. Cattle, not sheep, surrounded the sheep dip just south of the cottage [[2887558]]. From now it's a case of plodding across boggy moorland [[2887559]] to the corner of the fence west of Maol a' Bharra [[2887562]]. This is the easiest place to cross. Continuing south I reached the Allt Craobhach [[2887566]] and [[2887913]] (Wooded Burn) which I was to follow as far as the wall between Sgorr nam Faoileann and Glas Bheinn [[2888009]]. The ground was not as wet as it has been on previous occasions, for which I was grateful and I saw the first of many Green Hairstreak butterflies as I tramped across the moors.

 The wall has to be my favourite wall on the island - and that's saying something! Nowadays it seems so redundant, but presumably it once had a purpose, sufficient to warrant workmanship which is seldom seen today and I love thinking about that. Today, however, I viewed the wall with somewhat less exuberance, for I had to use it as a handrail into the next gridsquare and from there, climb to the north-eastern ridge. It looked a steep climb. From the wall's end I looked north [[3484822]] and then south and the route I must take [[3484824]]. This was the only part of the walk that I would do differently; it was a bit too steep for me. It was a short, steep stretch, though and soon I was on the ridge [[3485110]].

 I decided, due to time, not to bother going to the summit itself. I'd been twice before and it would just extend my route unnecessarily. Also, it was very windy. So I paused to view the Sound of Islay and pay my respects to the cairn which, from the valley bottom, sits tantalisingly like a perched Golden Eagle at this northernmost spur [[3484825]]. Then I skirted the head of Gleann Dubh to the middle one of Glas Bheinn's easterly spurs. From here good views are obtained of Coire Liunndrein. [[3485124]] I passed the moorland pool [[3484817]] and [[3484820]] and entered the next square from where I took photos south towards Beinn Bheigier [[3485140]], north towards Beinn na Caillich and Sgorr nam Faoileann [[3485117]], south-west towards the Sound of Islay [[3484847]] and west towards Glas Bheinn [[3484855]].

 With the wind coming from the south-east I was in its full force as I made my way back across the head of Gleann Dubh to the next spur - the one I intended following to its end. From here [[3484813]] I walked to the summit cairn of Beinn na Caillich, a summit which seems not to be able to make its mind up as to its exact location. The cairn is situated at the 300 m spot height [[3485132]], rather than the 308 m spot height.

 I got the full blast of the wind at the bealach [[3484812]] so quickly climbed to the next summit, the 'real' Beinn na Caillich which I have named Beinn na Caillich Mòr as it is not named on the map, but is bigger than either its eastern or western sister. I paused for lunch in the lee of a welcome crag, from where I could see the ripply Lochan na Caillich [[3485137]] and then fought my way to the summit cairn [[3485127]].

 The easiest way down to the valley was to follow the spur where the contour lines are further apart. I passed the small lochan again [[3484837]] and entered a new grid square. The views from here are spectacular, across the Sound of Islay to the ubiquitous Paps.[[3485106]] Looking west, it was easy to match the topography to the map [[3484841]] with the U-shaped valley between Glas Bheinn and Sgorr nam Faoileann clearly visible [[3484828]].

 Before the valley bottom, I headed west, wishing I could head instead for the coast, perhaps An Claddach bothy where I have spent many a happy hour. But time was against me, as were energy levels. Staying quite high, I walked through Gleann Choireadail, turning to watch the afternoon ferry wend its way up the Sound to Port Askaig [[3485103]]. Gradually I descended to the many burns which run down into this valley, verdant with Rowan Trees [[3485121]]. Some of these burns are quite steep-sided and it takes some walking back and forth to find the best way across. Eventually I reached the 'proper' burn Allt Gleann Choireadail [[3485097]] and crossed it to the northern side of the valley on the lower flanks of Sgorr nam Faoileann.

 I turned for a last look down Gleann Choireadail, perhaps my favourite of Islay's glens [[3484850]], and to bid farewell to the massif of today, Glas Bheinn [[3484829]], before trudging onwards, telling myself I'd have another stop at the wall, but not before! The day had turned into a relative scorcher and I had regularly been stopping to either put on or take off layers. As anyone with a camera and heavy rucksack will testify, it's such a faff!

 I got ever so slightly 'lost' on my way back. In my eagerness to head north I did so too early instead of following the Allt Craobhach. I thus missed the easiest crossing point of the fence. On the plus side, I noticed a ruin I'd not seen before. This would have to wait for another visit, however. I'd been out for 8 and a half hours and covered 11 miles. My legs were to feel the effect of the walk the next day. As the familiar tree shrouded Storakaig came into view, though, I reflected that it had definitely been worth it. text/html 2013-04-20T18:32:26+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.888756519807 -6.0236678298965 Walk Islay 2013 - Ascent of Beinn a' Chaolais, Jura http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/193 It was the day we'd been waiting for all week, which doesn't sound like a long time, but in a week of unsettled weather with several walks having had to be modified or cancelled, the highlight of the week, the long awaited ascent of Jura's lowest Pap was anticipated with anxiety. Would the weather put paid to this eagerly anticipated event? The forecast had looked good for Friday all week, but often it changes at the last minute. I logged onto XC weather the night before and peered over my hand-covered eyes to dare to view the forecast. Bright sunshine all day and with winds no stronger than 7 mph, who cared what direction it was blowing from? Yippee!!!

 This was the culmination of the 11th Walk Islay week, an annual event which up till now has been organized by the tireless Ian Brookes (of the Islay Bird blog) who is definitely retiring this year (after having threatened to do so for at least 4 years!)

 We caught the first ferry of the day from Port Askaig at 08.30 and, watched our destination, still capped in early morning cloud, draw nearer [[3419778]]. The first part of the walk was easy. Waving goodbye to the only other two passengers who drove off towards Craighouse, 22 intrepid walkers turned left onto the short stretch of road that leads to Inver Cottage where we were to meet our guide, Donald Ewen Darroch. We watched the Eilean Dhiura return to Islay [[3419409]] and so we were committed to whatever lay ahead.

 Donald Ewen was there to meet us and welcome us to Jura. I turned back to cast one last glance at the island we'd just left behind [[3418976]] and then gave my full attention to what lay before - the now cloud free Paps of Jura [[3419414]] and [[3419014]]. En route we were told about the relatively new hydro electric works on this side of the island as we passed some of the buildings [[3419395]]. We then walked up to Cnocbreac, and what remains of a ruined village there [[3419375]]. After crossing the Abhainn a' Chnuic Bhric, we turned eastwards into what was now new territory for me. This road [[3419342]] has been built for the hydro-electric works on the island which began a few years ago. I don't know enough about it to explain I'm afraid - I was always last to turn up as Donald Ewen was giving his little speeches!

 As promised the day was almost totally cloud free and Beinn a' Chaolais stood waiting for us, and the ascent route was no more obvious now we were closer than it is from my house in Bowmore! [[3419360]] and [[3419367]]. We continued along this easy track [[3419370]] and [[3419396]], passing Loch Gleann Astaile [[3419358]] and the hydro works there [[3419372]]. The track veers northwards here and then we left it, striding out across pathless moorland [[3418937]].

 Once closer to the mountain it looks ever so slightly less daunting, but only because the summit has disappeared from view [[3419386]] and [[3419378]]. As we ascended the mountain's western slopes, we paused to rest often and to take in the view across the Sound of Islay [[3419385]] [[3418966]] and [[3419419]]. Lochan Gleann Astaile was getting more distant [[3419017]] and [[3419392]] and the ominous scree slopes for which this range of mountains is famous, were drawing ever closer. Soon we were at the beginning of the scree; the bit I was dreading [[3419380]] and [[3418942]]. Despite being dry underfoot, this was still hard work, particularly for someone who suffers form vertigo as I do. There's so much to concentrate on here - every footstep matters. Will I dislodge a rock that will fall on someone's head below me? Am I going to smash my camera on the rocks? Why didn't I put it in my rucsack before I began? Can I safely stop to take a photo? And then, 'What's that, Bronwen? You asked me something?' These mountains need treating with respect - and, for me, fear. But then, there's an incredible feeling of achievement once the worst is past [[3419336]]. Occasionally it was possible to stop to take a photo [[3418955]] and [[3419401]], but mostly we plodded on, heads downwards until this scary ridge bit from where we got our first glimpse of the view south-eastwards [[3419403]] [[3419412]].

 Then there's a small cairn [[3418960]] and lots more scree [[3419390]] before, relieved and elated we reached the summit [[3419363]] - and more perfect conditions we could not have asked for. It was nearly windless at 733 metres above sea level (and don't forget we walked every single one of those metres; my GPS read -3 metres at one point!) Needless to say the views here are fantastic and it was only after about an hour at the summit that we started to feel a little shivery and so began our descent.

 Once back on level ground I turned to look at the monster we had conquered [[3419025]]. It looked less foreboding, but I still couldn't see how we'd made our way up! Two down, one to go - maybe I'll manage it this year yet! Watch this space . . . Our thanks to our excellent guide.

 text/html 2013-04-16T16:44:41+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.838628475453 -6.1783018862205 Gortantoid to Finlaggan http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/192 This is the last in my latest series of walks. It's taken a lot of photo manipulation and working out which photo relates to which gridsquare, so a lot of time. Don't expect to see me on here for about another year! Just kidding, this thing is far too addictive for that to be the case. Sadly, though, there's only so much manipulating that can enhance boring photos and so I apologize in advance for the lack of interest in these photos; the weather was poor and, whilst the scenery was more exciting in actuality, it is difficult to capture its essence in a photo, as everyone knows.

 After meeting at Finlaggan and depositing two cars there, five people and two dogs squeezed into one car for the trip to Gortantoid where we were leaving the vehicle. That's the one big drawback of these linear walks; the distance is far greater by road than by moors and it means making what's got to be an early start, even earlier to allow for the time taken to drive to the finishing and the starting points.

 Cloud hung low as we set off, following the quad bike track along the Gortantoid River [[3413372]] but started to lift as we crossed the river [[3413373]] and looked back towards Nave Island [[3413374]]. The quad bike track is a bonus here. I didn't remember it being there on my first ever Geograph walk (which was almost the same as this one). That time we had fought our way through the dense Rhododendron [[3413375]]. This time we followed the fence line and the track, heading towards Beinn Bhreac [[3413376]]. It soon clouded over again, however, and remained pretty dull for most of our walk (but I've already apologised for the effect that had on the photos!)

 We were walking between Beinn Ghibheach and Beinn Bhreac. 'Gibeach' can, confusingly, be translated as either 'rough' or 'neat/tidy'. 'Breac' is spotted or speckled. I have yet to ascend Beinn Ghibheach. There was little appealing about it today, however, cast as it was in the shadow of cloud [[3413377]] and [[3413380]]. We continued eastwards, contouring round Beinn Bhreac [[3413378]] and admiring the attractive Giùr-bheinn in the distance [[3413379]]. I was excited about revisiting Mairi Thormaid's shieling as it is one of my favourite gridsquares on the island. My last visit had been in sunshine and solitude and somehow seemed more special, but there remains a poignancy about this ruin where we rested for a while [[3413382]], wondering who Mairi Thormaid was and what had become of her. Did she own a horse to bring her here in the summer months or did she walk the long road from Gortantoid or Bunnhabhain? Was there even anyone alive today who could give us answers to these questions?

 Mairi Thormaid is also honoured by having a burn named after her [[3413383]] and we followed this burn south [[3413385]], now in the valley between Beinn Bhreac and Beinn na Heraibh [[3413387]]. There are no words starting with the letter 'h' in Gaelic so 'Heraibh' is obviously a corruption of some other Gaelic word, but my Gaelic is not good enough to know which it is. Another thing to add to the research list!

 On my last visit here I had noted an interesting eminence [[3413389]] (in which I saw a Peacock Butterfly if I remember correctly). I had wondered then if there was any history attached to the place as it is not marked on the map. I took an accurate GPS waymark of the location but could find nothing on Scotland's Places website to suggest it is of any significance. Nevertheless, it appears to be manmade with raised turf and stones and roughly rectangular in shape.

 We continued walking through this valley [[3413392]], [[3413395]] and [[3413396]] until we reached Gleann nam Meirleach (Thieves' Glen) [[3413399]]. Presumably this valley was once used by crofters after stealing each others' stock! The plethora of old boundary lines, both here [[3413400]] and all over the island, suggest that disputes over boundary lines was as big a problem then as it is today. Allt an Lochain Bhroaich (Burn of the Lochan abounding in sullen anger!)[[3413623]] runs parallel to the remains of an old boundary line [[3413627]] which presumably once extended further. It continues right up to the 'sullen' loch [[3413629]]. Angry or not, Mike and Jane's dogs were happy to swim in it - or rather one of them was, the other apparently not being able to be persuaded, even to try to get rid of any ticks!

 Finally we caught sight of our second lunch destination - the ruin at Tais (Moist) Bheinn [[3413632]]. We had to cross a 'river' to get to it, the Abhainn Airigh an t-Sluic (River of the Shieling of the pit/den/hollow) [[3413635]]. This was no more than a step across and then we enjoyed an anniversary picnic (Mike and Jane's) at the ruin before ascending Tais Bheinn and looking back at our picnic spot [[3413638]].

 Once over the 'mountain' we could just glimpse Loch a' Chaorainn (Loch of the Rowan Tree) [[3413641]] and [[3413642]] in the distance. Below us in the valley of the Sruthan Airigh an t-Sagairt (Stream of the Priest's shielings) [[3413646]] were the scattered ruins of said shielings [[3413644]] and [[3413649]]. We didn't investigate these further, although we agreed these were not as impressive as either of the other ruins we'd viewed today so far (we still had one ruined village to visit).

 We crossed the outlet from Loch a' Chaorainn [[3413654]] and looked despairingly across more moorland to yet another hill [[3413656]]. "I thought you said there would be no hills on this walk," Jim reminded me. I'd hoped he'd forgotten I'd said that, but no such luck! "We'll see the forest just over the hill," I promised, hoping desperately that would be the case. It was! [[3413658]] and soon thereafter we found the gate through the deer fence [[3413662]] and the track [[3413665]] leading from there to Ballachlaven Farm [[3413666]], probably the same one I'd followed on my last walk here. I'd walked from and to Ballachlaven Farm on that occasion, rather than Finlaggan, which was where we were heading today.

 We needed to venture away from the track in order to reach our destination so we headed towards the conifer plantation [[3413669]], [[3413670]] and [[3413672]]. By now the sun was making a reappearance, making the scene which soon lay in front of us even more attractive. [[3413676]] and [[3413679]]. Pausing for another break (we were all feeling quite dehydrated today) we could see and hear people on Eilean Mòr [[3413688]], one of the two islands which formed the administration centres of the Lordship of the Isles during the 13th to 15th centuries. In 1493 the lordship of the Isles fell to James IV of Scotland, who administered the territory via a tenant-in-chief. Many visitors come to view the ruined castle and chapel every year.

 We mustered enough energy to descend the hill to view our final ruin of the day, Sean-ghairt (Old Cornfield). [[3413680]] These are quite extensive ruins, more extensive than all the remnants of our energy put together (including the dogs)! So we did not do them justice on this occasion, but, being close to the Visitor Centre at Finlaggan, I am sure I will pay them another visit soon.

 We followed a very vague path right by the western shores of the Loch [[3413683]], which provided excellent views of the ancient seat of the Lord of the Isles. [[3413685]] After surviving many a dried up bog, it was here, at the very end of our walk where Mike nearly lost one of his new wellies in the boggy terrain. By clinging to the fence the rest of us managed to pull ourselves to safety and then back to the car where water awaited us! text/html 2013-04-15T00:56:18+00:00 David Howard 50.99910834151 -0.34114346827527 The new season 2013 http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/191 The new season officially kicked off two weeks ago, with the clocks going forward, allowing my freedom to go wherever I wanted given the opportunity before it got dark. The first was a shortish run to the Sussex border as there was a gap without any red squares it was easy to fill in, and a week later finally got to Cuckfield to get this wonderful pair of signs only found because of Dave Spicer.
 [[3404506]]

 I have a list of trips for 2013 now, that was the first, mainly as old signs are not guaranteed to be there so take priority over all others, and there's another trip to find a recent arrival here in Braintree with another on the way sooner or later. Since then it's just been gap filling locally, but had my first request to come on a photo trip with me on Thursday, and filled in some of the space between the A5 and A1000 between St Albans and Hatfield.

 [[3407142]] [[3407217]] [[3407218]]

 Yesterday I bent a regular journey around the North Circular in Ealing to bag a few extra squares

 [[3409954]] [[3409895]] [[3409813]]

 showing it's not always necessary to stick to the pretty stuff as even the most miserable places mean something to someone. I then realised I was well over half way to another hectad TQ17, which would be my 6th, so added that to the list, and as I only had a limited time today used it to kick off by mopping up about five in Feltham, including the first off road square, which luckily began before I had to go any further along this path.

 [[3411307]] This was one of the best views [[3411345]] of Hanworth Park, and you can never go wrong with a good flyover. [[3411270]]

 So journeys short or long are now all possible most days for six months or so, and of course the more you do the less you can do as the remaining trips become further and harder, but I have my 2013 quota and will be very happy just getting the major ones done. I have collected all my life, and seeing my exact travels on a map is irresistible to someone who grew up reading maps for pleasure, visiting some of the places which looked interesting (from the Hebrides in 1969 to America in 1980) mainly thanks to my grandparents, then used train tickets from 1970 till they were mainly abolished in 1988, with a few remaining to the 90s. Had digital photography and the internet been around even a decade earlier I'd have covered the south coast from Studland to Dover and Canterbury (I have random photos mainly of stations as I started taking them when they didn't have the old tickets) and north to Manchester and Blackpool, oddly I never took the camera on my many visits there. And a four day holiday to the Cotswolds when I drove to Stratford on Avon, Bath, Oxford and Wooton Wawen in as many days, and do have photos albeit a bit dodgy at times when the light got in the back of the very good camera.

 I have so far revisited the Cotswolds on digital as I only include digital photos here (begun in November 2005) for new squares, and then add the archives when I've got one already. The south coast is easy enough to get to so done a couple there so far with one or two to go, while east Kent is now verboten since all the London bridges are out of commission bar Tower Bridge (which I can't imagine the state as most people have to bypass the centre to cross the river on weekdays) and haven't felt like suffering the journey to the Blackwall Tunnel alternative for a while. I've collected many old signs at the weekend across London but have been limited by restricting the possible days I could go further in that direction. Part of the reason other trips have reduced is the vast rise in the cost of petrol, meaning when my old Proton gave up the ghost I had to buy a runabout which saved me about 20% of the cost, which does add up. Now when on the flat it starts slowing down around 60mph and really doesn't want to go much faster, and wasn't really designed for motorways like the last ones. This means they are used as the exception rather than the rule so can't get as far using the back doubles.

 But whatever will be will be, and will be quite happy just extending my scope here at all rather than aiming too high and being disappointed when I don't manage it. If I ever get a flight somewhere on the map though that'll cover them all!

 text/html 2013-04-03T19:18:20+00:00 Becky Williamson Giur-bheinn and Margadale Circular, Islay http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/186 Having my daughter home for the Easter holidays, combined with (finally) glorious weather meant that I just couldn't wait to be out. This was a reconnaisance walk for the forthcoming Walk Islay week on which I'd been asked to lead a walk up this modest hill. Being one of my favourite hills and being near one of my favourite ruins, I decided to combine the two and make it into a circular walk. After much research and enquiry, I've recently discovered that 'Giùr' is an Islay word for crouching or stooped, the mountain seemingly resembling that position.

 We started at our usual spot and walked down the familiar track [[2836896]] to the forest with the track leading all the way to Balulive. [[3392949]]. The track leads across the sturdy bridge across the Abhainn Araig (translation uncertain. [[3392922]] From here (as well as almost the entire walk) you can see Sgarbh Breac (Speckled Cormorant), a distinctive peak in the area. [[3392923]] The track leads to a deer fence, thankfully with gate [[3393760]]. Looking back you see your last glimpse of the iconic Paps of Jura before you enter the dense conifer plantation. [[3392935]]

 This was the bit I am never too keen on. I much prefer to be out in the open with vast vistas spread out before me. I don't like the feeling of being enclosed. Also, this was the bit of the walk I felt least certain of; I never know which is the correct ride to meet the deer gate at the western side of the plantation. Miss it and you may have to clamber over the 6 foot high fence. Before making that decision, however, you view Staoisha Eararach from its neighbouring gridsquare [[3392927]], making it difficult to get anything other than Supplemental status for this feature - it seems gratuitous to walk to the ruin just to get a Geograph, but I can imagine myself just having to do it one day! Before reaching the ruin there is a fork in the road [[3392930]] and it is necessary to take the westernmost route to reach the deer gate - I remembered that much! At the next fork we took the southernmost route, leading to views of Loch and Dhudhaich [[3392932]]. We finally plumped for a forest ride [[3393625]], which fortuantely led to the deer gate [[3392925]] and - yippee! - wide open spaces, with remnants of snow [[3393732]]. Following the quad bike track leads to the southern end of Loch Giùr-bheinn [[3393637]]. We strode off north-eastwards to reach the northern shores of the Loch [[3392926]] from where we began our ascent. [[3393719]] The views were stunning [[3393651]] - it was such a glorious day, if a bit blowy as we reached the dizzy heights of this 'great' mountain.

 The wind was quite strong at the summit [[3392948]] so we lingered only long enough to take photos [[3393644]] before descending via the mountain's northern slopes [[3393771]], passing the outlet from Loch Giùr-bheinn [[3392921]]. Looking back our mountain looked much more impressive than it had done on our ascent. [[3392947]] and [[3392929]]. We were walking almost directly north,[[3392952]], crossing the Bealach a' Bhearnain [[3392938]] and walking parallel at times to the same plantation we'd walked through earlier. The Paps of Jura kept peering over the tops of the trees. [[3392933]]. Eventually we reached the westernmost corner of the plantation [[3392924]] and turned the corner. From here we could see the ruins of Margadale, including the ruinous sheep fold which I'd never managed to get to before [[3392941]]. I didn't manage to get to it this time either and had to be content with taking a photo through the deer fence. [[3392931]]

 We kept moving the goal posts as far as lunch was concerned and I was amazed when we ended up eating it at Margadale, one of my favourite ruins on the island. [[3392954]]. We lingered here for a while; it is such a peaceful spot and then continued south-eastwards, following the quad bike track [[3393724]] and more or less following the river, looking back occasionally to the ruin we'd left behind [[3392951]].

 A bridge I'd never noticed before caught my eye and I went over to investigate. It is actually only two-thirds of a footbridge [[3393001]]. Following the river further south we soon saw a mysterious wall/bridge [[3393740]]. What on earth was the purpose of that? We continued to follow the river [[3393743]] and [[3392936]]. The views eastwards were stunning in the early spring sunshine, across the Sound of Islay to those iconic paps of Jura [[3393750]] and [[3392934]]. The quad bike track eventually leads to a small bridge [[3393630]], past an eastern corner of the plantation [[3392928]] and then to the covered reservoir near where we began the walk, about 5 hours previously [[3392950]]. From here it is a short stroll to another deer fence and gate [[3392937]] and from there, not far to the car.

 text/html 2013-04-10T13:08:02+00:00 Becky Williamson 56.80050914118 -3.3688557695278 Glen Beanie circular walk, Glen Shee http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/190 Our plans to do some hillwalking had been thwarted by the heavy snowfall of recent weeks, but we remained undeterred from doing some serious walking - my daughter and I that is. I simply revised my 'wish list'. Unlike when I am on Islay, constantly perusing the maps for gridsquares yet unvisited, I was looking at a totally green map and so could choose anywhere, as long as it wasn't too risky.

 I chose Glen Beanie. originally my wish list had included a circular trip which took in both Loch Beanie and Mealna Letter to the south. Well that would have to be revised for a start.

 So we set off, having hired child-sized snow goggles from a nice man at one of the many ski hire centres in Glen Shee. (He'd run out of adult sized pairs). We met our second friendly person of the day after carefully parking the car at Dalvanie and the start of our walk. He had just fed the cattle and was up for a long chat. "There's lots of snow at Loch Beanie," he warned. "I was after feeding the cattle there a few days ago."

 Undeterred, we set off along the snow-covered path (now with tractor tyre marks too) [[3404680]] and followed the path which runs parallel to the woodland [[3404682]] and [[3404685]]. At times the path was hard to follow, but it was to become much harder to do so as we entered Glen Beanie proper. [[3404690]] I decided it was too risky to keep following the footprints which seemed to be leading up Creagan Caise; much safer to stay in the valley - or so I thought - to my error. We followed ski tracks along the valley and I fell waist-deep in to the Glen Beanie burn. Fortunately Lorna was there to help me out and I wasn't in for very long and fortunately I'd got enough layers on to prevent the cold seeping through. Even so it was cold enough not to want to linger. A hot cup of water later and we were back on our way. I checked my camera to make sure it was still working, taking a photo of Mealna Letter (which would have been our destination) [[3404692]], [[3404816]] and [[3405032]]. My binoculars were not to function properly for the rest of the walk however and I missed them sorely, not being able to see the huge herd of Red Deer at the head of the Glen. [[3404712]]

 We took a final look back down the Glen [[3404795]] and [[3404778]] before heading over the saddle towards Loch Beanie, still trying desperately to find and follow the footprints of those who had gone before. Expecting quite a large loch we were surprised to see a much reduced loch due to the snow which lay over much of its surface. [[3404823]] The views were stunning though and we truly felt in the middle of nowhere although I think this was an illusion cast largely by the snow and the sheer whiteness of it all. Had there not been any snow it would not have been as pretty, the walk would have been a lot easier and it would certainly have felt less remote.

 The footprints led to the delightful footbridge over the Allt Mòr where we decided to have lunch. [[3404776]] We'd debated whether to trudge gratuitously to the Boat House to see if it was open as it would have been warm and dry in there, but decided it was unnecessarily far, especially if we'd found it locked. We sat on the footbridge and I allowed us 20 minutes for lunch. A Dipper surprised us by flying overhead, calling anxiously. No doubt we were disturbing it, but we were not going to linger long. I hoped it would find refuge somewhere as there was not much of a river for it to find food and shelter. [[3405031]] and [[3405026]].

 The footpath became even more vague as we headed westwards towards Glen Shee Lodge where we hoped to join the Cateran Trail. A gate marked the end of our trudge and the beginning of more cultivated land at Shallavanach. [[3404783]] The snow became more patchy [[3404705]] and we soon caught sight of buildings. We were relieved to see signs of civilisation after our long trek through the snow [[3404828]].

 Approaching Shallavanach the snow became even more patchy [[3405035]] and [[3404813]]. We paused to take a photo of a large boulder just before the farm [[3404808]] and then we were at the Glen Shee Outdoor Centre [[3404820]] where we asked about the Cateran Trail. Where could we join it? We'd come unnecessarily far. We should have joined the trail at Shallavanach so we retraced our steps and walked through sludgy fields to the trail.

 The trail seems to consist of a lot of redundant stiles [[3405036]]. This one was just after a memorial which, quite frankly, we had no energy to detour to [[3404709]]. There was still a lot of snow around [[3405034]] and walking was still incredibly hard work. We still managed to pause to take requisite photos [[3405027]] and just to rest or admire the views.

 We crossed the Allt Coire na Ceardaich [[3404788]] and [[3404785]] near Dunmay [[3405029]] and continued southwards. Pollgorm Cottage across the valley looked attractive with its red roof [[3404818]]. Soon we were at Dalnaglar Castle [[3404780]], but time was short and we couldn't afford to pause. We'd promised to return the snow goggles before the hire place closed at 6 pm and my parents had told us they would start worrying if we hadn't returned before 6.30 pm. Both were looking like an increasing impossibility.

 We emerged pretty unscathed onto our first proper road in 6 miles and the tarmac felt weird beneath our feet. Still there were signs for the Cateran Trail [[3406038]]. Soon we arrived at the B951 where we mustered a giggle at someone's snowy handiwork [[3406040]] at the junction [[3406041]]. From here there was nothing for it but to wind our weary way eastwards along a seemingly never-ending road. In truth there was only 3 miles of it, but that's a long way after 6 miles of snow when you've fallen in a river and your son's left you an anxious message to call him but you have no signal to call him or your anxious parents and no number or signal to call the kind man who hired out child-sized snow goggles at a bargain price. Violins please! Anxiety laden, we trundled along the B road to Glen Isla [[3406042]]. Even taking photos was an effort for me now, but I knew I'd regret it afterwards if I didn't have the full walk in photos.

 We knew we'd to pass the attractive Forter Castle. [[3406036]] for we'd seen it on our way to the parking place many hours before. "It seemed ages from there to the car," Lorna moaned and I echoed her sighs but tried not to show it - good mother that I am! We turned onto our final minor road as dusk was falling [[3406039]] and imagined the car round every bend. Eventually we arrived back. It was just after 6 pm. I am grateful to the ski hire place for still being open to return the goggles and to the lady in the pottery who let me use the phone to call my worried parents. "The tea will be spoilt," was their sympathetic response. So be it - a small price to pay for this snowy adventure.
 text/html 2013-04-08T11:12:30+00:00 William Starkey 53.398119966184 -3.0015789171596 Liverpool - one hour ashore and one hour afloat http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/189 On what was - for me - a rare foray south of Hadrians Wall, I had the opportunity to visit Liverpool opportunity in this case meaning just two hours. Using the ferry from Woodside to the Pier Head, this involved a short cruise on the Mersey, followed by one hour to explore a little of Liverpools waterfront - with the much-photographed Royal Iris of the Mersey performing ferry duty between Birkenhead and Liverpool.

 [[3378692]] [[3378694]] [[3378700]] [[3379536]]

 In Greek mythology, Iris was the goddess of the rainbow - perhaps appropriately then, a rainbow duly appeared in the sky over Liverpool as I waited for departure. This is a very different view to the one I remember from childhood, when scarcely tall enough to look over the ships railings, the buildings I saw on Liverpools waterfront were blackened by soot and grime.

 [[3374079]]

 Leaving Woodside, the Iris heads first to the south, offering good views of the docks in Birkenhead and shipping on the river, with marine traffic surprisingly busy.

 [[3378685]] [[3374091]]

 [[3377310]] [[3377333]] [[3377318]]

 [[3377338]] [[3382908]]

 Then with a change of direction to the north down-river - the ferry heads for the Pier Head landing stage.

 [[3378455]]

 Once ashore, there is much to see and photograph on Liverpools waterfront, with the architecture of the Liver Building, one of Liverpools three graces

 [[3379356]] [[3376606]]

 contrasting with modern designs such as the Mann Island Buildings and the new Museum of Liverpool.

 [[3375000]] [[3379556]] [[3376580]] [[3376635]],

 These buildings feature highly reflective glass, and perhaps also reflect changes in Liverpools economy, as its emphasis moves from shipping and manufacturing to leisure and tourism.

 [[3376622]] [[3379563]] [[3376589]]

 The Canning and Albert Docks, which lie further along the river to the south east, are also very photogenic, with water reflecting buildings, ships, chimneys and an unusual vehicle known as the Yellow Duckmarine, used to take visitors on an amphibious journey through Liverpools streets and docks further evidence of the increasing importance of tourism to Liverpools economy.

 [[3378450]] [[3376617]] [[3377709]]

 My all-too-brief hour ashore nearly over, a quick walk takes me back to the Pier Head, with just enough time to snap some of the waterfronts sculptures, including the Carters Working Horse Monument and William Goscome's monument to Edward VII.

 [[3381663]] [[3374115]]

 Then back to Woodside Pier with the Royal Iris, and a final shot of the ferry departing.

 [[3379532]]

 Most of these images were taken in an area little greater than one square kilometre, mostly in gridsquare SJ3389 (which touches both banks of the Mersey), and a little help from SJ3489, SJ3390, and SJ3388. This area ticks many of the geographical context tags, and is visually striking throughout a photogenic city worthy of a visit despite the complete absence of Geograph points! Finally, the Geotrips submission form requests a mention of difficulties encountered for me this was simply too little time to explore this most interesting of cities. text/html 2013-04-07T08:42:23+00:00 Becky Williamson Loch Cam and Loch Drolsay Circular Walk, Islay http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/188 This was to be my third or fourth visit to what is known as the Sorn Valley in the centre (ish) of the island. The area is difficult to access and some gridsquares are therefore really only accessible by repeating some parts of previous walks. This is not a complaint, of course, particularly when the weather is as glorious as it was today.

 Angus, the friendly farmer of both Scarrabus and Balole farms met us at the deer gate [[3397508]] and welcomed us, advising us that we need not fear adders today. The earliest he had ever seen an adder was 4th of April one particularly warm spring, and it certainly wasn't as warm today (even if it was sunny all day). I told him that on a previous walk in the area we had seen no less than 6 adders - the most I've ever seen in one day. Angus seemed happy to chat and boast about his new calves [[3396806]]. We assured him we'd given cows and calves a wide berth. He also gave a wonderful description of his encounter with a Golden Eagle, "I came upon it by mistake," he enthused, "it rose up before me and its wings went on and on. I thought they would never end." I mused on that description all day and thought it beautiful.

 Passing more cattle, we were soon at Loch Càm [[3397509]]. The name translates mysteriously as crooked/curved/winding Loch, but this does not seem an appropriate translation as there are many more lochs on Islay that would be much better suited to such a name. Perhaps it refers to the hill of the same name which could be said to bend round (if in fact mountains are capable of bending!). The Loch glistened in the early spring sunshine [[3397510]] so we paused to take photos [[3397511]] before following the track northwards to Beinn Chàm, which was to be one of our destinations today [[3397512]].

 Before the end of the track we strode off north-eastwards up Gleann Càm [[3397515]] and [[3397518]], following Allt nan Oisgean which translates as Burn of the Sheep/year old ewes. [[3397513]]. From a more elevated position, the shape of the Loch became more evident [[3397514]] and [[3397516]], whilst our destination looked more daunting [[3397517]].

 Once near the summit we looked down westwards on Loch Leathan (Broad Loch) and admired amazing views in every direction. From even this modest height (about 180 m) we could see Mull, Northern Ireland, Jura, Colonsay and the Mull of Kintrye as we turned in every direction. [[3397521]] I could also 'see my house from here'. It really was a stunning day. We could not have asked for better.

 I wanted to find the Standing Stone which is marked on the map and it took a little finding. We saw its top first, approach it as we did from the west. I guess it would have been visible sooner if we had approached from the east or north. One part of the standing stone is prostrate on the ground so it may have once been taller than its current 3 feet. [[3397520]]

 We stopped for lunch on the sheltered western slopes of Beinn Chàm before descending to Loch Leathan [[3397522]]. We walked round its northern shores, following the usual faint deer paths [[3397524]]. This valley is usually even wetter than it was today, a lot wetter. I'm not sure in fact if it would ever be much drier than it was today; the island has basked in cold, dry easterly winds and sunshine for a couple of months now. [[3397525]].

 Sruthan na Criche translates as Stream of the Boundary [[3397527]] and in fact an old boundary line vaguely follows the course of this stream through this valley. Following this stream and boundary [[3397528]] we came across some old shielings [[3397529]] - the summer residences of farmers who brought their cattle out here to graze during the summer months. These were circular in shape, stone and turf in nature.

 As well as the larger lochs and lochans, such as Loch nan Caorach (Loch of the Sheep) [[3399000]], there is a plethora of unnamed lochans [[3399004]] and small moorland pools in this valley [[3397530]] and [[3399005]]. There are also several lines of old iron posts, marking old boundaries [[3399002]] and [[3399003]]; Islay has many such old boundaries, some of them in the most unlikely of places - a sign that disputes over boundaries was as common in days gone by as they are today?

 Loch Drolsay is possibly a Norse name (my uneducated guess!) and follows a SE to NW angle. [[3399006]] and [[3399007]]. We walked by its western shores [[3399008]] and [[3399009]]. Then I left Lorna and Jim briefly (at least I thought it was going to be!) whilst I went in search of a new gridsquare through the snow-clad moorland. Conscious that they might be wondering where I was I just stepped a few metres into the square and took the requisite photo [[3399010]] - one of my most boring yet. Turning I managed to photograph some distant Red Deer, which I disturbed [[3399011]], but this was another gridsquare.

 There was a good view of Loch Drolsay from here, the lower slopes of Beinn an Fhuaraidh 'Mountain of the windward side/blast/draught'. [[3399012]]. Rejoining the others, we now walked pretty much pathlessly through Glen Drolsay [[3399013]] and [[3399014]], looking back towards Beinn an Fhuaraidh, the 'mountain' I'd just descended [[3399017]]. I recognised Allt Garbh (Rough Burn) [[3399018]] and [[3399019]] from a previous (summer)visit [[2590931]]. From here it was a much easier stroll through the deer gate [[3399020]] to Scarrabus [[2590932]] where we met Angus again (and his wife) who stopped once more to chat. It's wonderful to find such friendliness; it occurs so infrequently these days, but abounds on Islay.

 An unusual stone caught my eye as we left the farm [[3399089]]. Was it a standing stone or just a big boulder? We trudged along the track to Balole [[3399091]] and back to the farm and our waiting car [[3399095]]. This beautiful part of the island is seldom visited but deserves more recognition.

 text/html 2013-04-05T22:33:35+00:00 Chris Allen Into the new year http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/187 I was stymied from posting for most of January due to 'upgrading' to Windows 8 and then discovering that my machine wouldn't run for more than a few minutes before freezing. However, I did eventually get started and was able to post my January backlog then move on with February - blessed relief to be back on site.

 On the 12th of January I filled in some of the local scenery that I have been neglecting since the 1970s with a wander round Worcester - [[3318026]] [[3318037]] [[3313410]] - there is still much to do. The opportunity was also taken to record the nearly finished mortuary refurbishment at the Worcestershire Royal Hospital [[3379357]].

 On Sunday 13th January I had a cold walk around Sharpness Docks. This was a new venue for me but I found them quite interesting - [[3313589]] [[3379941]] [[3379969]] [[3313568]]. On the way home I had a quick tincture at Fromebridge Mill that is now a public house - [[3313559]].

 A week later it was snowy and I had work to do but did photograph a seriously large crane at work - [[3313354]] [[3313369]].

 Saturday 26th January saw me revisiting a pretty site nearby on the River Avon - [[3313383]]. The following day I was at the Great Central Railway's winter steam gala (there had been snow on the ground the day before - curses) - [[3317046]] [[3317063]] [[3318107]]. On the way home I called by Hough Windmill and Califat Colliery in the gathering gloom - [[3318959]] [[3318926]].

 February started with a wander round a partly flooded Worcester - [[3317352]] [[3317391]] [[3324199]] [[3317369]].

 On 9th February I was in the 'Potteries' with Ashley Dace and several interesting sites were seen - [[3329886]] [[3329917]] [[3329730]] [[3351572]] [[3328011]] [[3351549]]. The following day we both headed to Lancashire for mills and collieries - [[3379989]] [[3329829]] [[3329845]] [[3328000]].

 On Saturday 16th I had business at Claymills but in the afternoon managed a couple of significant Nottinghamshire sites (waste not want not) - [[3334125]] [[3334117]] [[3334103]] [[3336993]]. Sunday was a trip to the Cotswolds with my sister - [[3345419]] [[3345409]].

 Saturday 23rd included a trip to Bridgwater en route to Devon and a little industrial archaeology was gleaned - [[3345243]] [[3345253]] [[3346790]]. The next day we called in at Bristol on our way home and saw a paddle steamer in genesis as well as other sites of interest [[3345317]] [[3366346]] [[3345349]] [[3346795]].

 Thus ended a relatively slow start to the year. text/html 2013-03-19T21:22:08+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.804397986636 -6.1267232047822 In the lee of Beinn Dubh, Islay http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/185 We nearly didn't go on this walk. The cold north-easterly wind did blow and we had planned to walk on Islay's eastern shores; well, not shores exactly; that just sounded better. I had worked out a circular route, starting at Ballygrant quarry, walking up the track to Lossit Farm, down to the bothy at Baleachdrach and then southwards at the foot of Beinn Dubh to Lochs Fada and Leathann and back to the road and the car.

 It was all familiar territory to me, although I have only done all the walk once before when I ascended Beinn Dubh [[1750262]]. We started at the quarry and walked south-eastwards down the 'Glen' Road. Jim pointed out the disused mine to me [[3374385]]. At the fork in the road [[3308650]] we turned left and skirted the edge of Ballygrant Woods and Loch. We passed Lossit Lodge [[3308653]] and walked uphill to Lossit Loch [[3374433]], a freshwater loch with two small, wooded islands. At Lossit Farm [[2181580]] we paused to talk to the gamekeeper who reminded us that we would surely feel the blast on the brow of the hill!

 When we walked down the steep farm track to Baleachdrach [[3374443]] I commented that it was a lot easier descending this road than ascending it. "Och, I don't know," replied Jim, looking back, "it doesn't look that bad." I said I'd remind him of this fact if we ever did the walk in reverse! A gate halfway down the track made us smile [[3374401]] with its comical sign [[3374407]]. Then Baleachdrach came into sight [[3374257]]. This bothy has always been locked in the past so I was surprised to find it open and it proved to be a welcome retreat from the cold wind for a few minutes whilst we drank hot drinks from our thermoses. [[3374381]] I assume this is a stalker's bothy, used for shooting parties to indulge in more luxurious fare than we were enjoying today. The fireplace looked big enough to roast a good portion of venison on!

 Out of the bothy we felt the blast of the easterly wind until we found shelter in the woodland south of the bothy [[3374464]]. The track continues here further than is shown on the map, although it is hardly suitable for any but the most versatile of vehicles.[[3374546]] and [[3374373]]. A deer gate marks the end of the proper track [[3374268]], although a very muddy portion continues for a bit southwards. We looked backwards to see the snow-summited Paps emerging briefly from the cloud.[[3374514]].

 We were now in search of dùns and reliant on the GPS to help us find them. There were two marked on the map and a lot of possibilities in sight! We soon found the first dùn [[3374280]] which affords excellent views towards Beinn Dubh (Black Mountain). There is an expansive walled enclosure here; in some places the wall reaches a height of about 5 feet. [[3374526]] The enclosure is clearly visible on the map and is indicative of a time when the island was much more populated. There is a poignancy here in this now uninhabited territory where ancient, not so ancient and contemporary meet (we were prevented from exploring further by the presence of a deer fence to the west). Life has been and life continues whilst the elements and nature span all eras and bring a continuity to it all - walls are covered with moss and modern fenceposts are already encrusted with lichens. As well as the man-made wall, we could now see the natural dyke running from the top of a higher dùn towards us and further west [[3374493]] I was fascinated to see this, although the last time I saw it I had a better view (from the top of Beinn Dubh) [[1750260]].

 Two mysteries arose from our trip today - why did this burn disappear into the ground? [[3374273]] and what was the purpose of this single iron post near the walled enclosure? [[3374439]]

 We were to return to this grid square later, but for now we skirted the bottom of Beinn Dubh, passing another erstwhile wall [[3374517]] (there are actually many here) and avoided some very marshy ground which in fact is contourless for the best part of a quarter of the gridsquare! [[3374396]], [[3374482]] and [[3374502]]. Lazy beds are another poignant reminder of previous inhabitation [[3374343]]

 Loch Leathann (Broad Loch) became visible as we followed the edge of this marshy 'bowl' [[3374475]] and then its twin, Loch Fada (Long Loch) [[3374362]]. Then we were worried about the impending deer fence, but we found another gate [[3374262]] which served more of a purpose than this non-existent gate further down the track [[3374507]]. The track we were now on is a fisherman's or gamekeeper's track which returns briefly to NR4164. I was quite excited about seeing the ruins marked clearly on the map (having learnt my lesson about not just looking for named ruins on maps!) The only thing with my finely tuned map reading skills is that whereas before I was pleasantly surprised to stumble upon a ruin, now my expectations were high. Wow! There were going to be three ruins here (according to the map) but no, this can't be it. Where are they? There was certainly one, its gable end giving it away, making it visible from the track [[3374428]] (taken after striding off the track for a few metres). OK, so I was going to have to be satisfied with this one ruin [[3374542]]. Walls are certainly a feature here - there is a plethora thereof! There also seemed to be a duck pond!

 We paused here for lunch and discussed the success of our walk - yes there had been bog, but not a single fence to cross. That's success in my books (as well as being unusual!) The Standing Stone could be seen from the track [[3374660]], but hardly seemed worth the effort to go to (another time maybe!). A supply of spare tyres made an interesting feature for a photograph [[3374459]] in the next gridsquare, as did the permanent puddle with its curious stone structure (possibly a hide for duck shooters as we flushed some Teal here) [[3374357]].

 Soon we were back on the 'Glen Road' [[3374510]] which led past Knocklearoch with its protected Standing Stones [[2492905]]. Then we were back at the car and glad of the heated seats!

 It had been a very enjoyable walk, although, as the photos demonstrate, the lighting was not brilliant for photography. I'm looking forward to spring and bright skies! text/html 2013-03-19T07:10:30+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.758032575019 -6.4248736971077 Ancient Ileach company on Mother's Day http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/184 Feeling a little sorry for myself as it was my first Mother's Day on my own - not that we had ever made much of a fuss about it in our family - I decided to pack a picnic and gain some more Islay gridsquares. After all, that was my favourite thing to do and I didn't mind doing it on my own so would be less likely to indulge in a bout of self-pity.

 Perhaps my least visited area of the island is the Rhinns peninsula. I'm not sure why. But I had long ago noticed on the map the curious name of Olistadh situated off the Kilchiaran road near Gearach. I decided to make this my destination and, if the weather (and my spirits) improved, I would extend the walk to the other side of the road and attempt to find one of the duns marked east of Kilchiaran.

 Parking at Gearach [[3265105]], I got out of the car and it started snowing. Knowing it was only a half mile walk to Olistadh I decided to carry on and immediately entered new territory - shameful really as this is a mere stone's throw off the 'main' road. Perhaps that's why actually; I've always preferred locations which lie well off the beaten track! Still, I never fail to get excited about entering new territory so I walked up to the gate at the beginning of the forest track [[3366593]]. About ten minutes later I emerged into open countryside through an open gate [[3366588]].

 From here it wasn't far to my destination. Olistadh is Old Norse for Olafr's Steading. It is one of the minority of place-names on Islay which can be traced to the Viking Age. The settlement consists of six unroofed buildings. One is now separated from the others by a deer fence [[3366597]] Although still accessible through a gate, I did not visit this particular building on this occasion. The other buildings are relatively close together, nestled below the massif of Beinn Tart a' Mhill. [[3366591]], [[3366579]] and [[3366564]] with a distant view of the Paps of Jura [[3366574]]. An extensive wall surrounds the settlement [[3366576]]. This latter photo shows the distant, isolated farm of Bolsay and the more distant Oa peninsula. It's on occasions like this that I'm reminded again of the size of Islay. Visitors often ask 'What's that land there in the distance?' and are always surprised when I reply, 'Still Islay!'

 By the time I left Olafr's steading, the sun was making more of an appearance. So much so in fact that I not only decided to continue my walk on the other side of the road, but I decided to change to my polariser filter as well - a sure sign that I had faith in the emergence of the sun. I was familiar with Loch Gearach only through goose-counting when we used to have to walk to the Loch to see if there were any geese nearby (usually only Greylags). Today I viewed the Loch from a more elevated position with the attractive addition of an old ruin in the foreground [[3366592]]. I headed almost directly north across a welcome, albeit faint farm track west of the Gearach plantation. Then one of my favourite things happened. I noticed in the distance a whole bunch of ruins. [[3374843]] Now where were they and why weren't they marked on the map? Another glance at the map showed that they were in fact marked on the map, just not named, so I would have to do my homework upon my return (something else I love!)

 I decided I'd head up to the settlement and so extend my walk even more. I was feeling quite elated; the day was turning out far better than I'd thought. There was even a 'board walk' across to the dùn [[3366595]] which stood prominently above the boggy moorland. Dùn Glas an Lòin Ghuirm translates from Gaelic as 'The Grey Fort of the Blue Marsh (or Meal)'. I'd say it was more brown than either grey or blue but I suspect something is lost in the translation! [[3366603]]. From the summit of this fortified eminence I looked north towards Greamsay [[3366604]] and south towards Loch Gearach [[3366563]].

 Descending from those dizzy heights, I skirted the dùn to find Outcome 3 - the Standing Stone which is the guardian of Greamsay Village. It is visible from some distance and I sat here beneath this lichen-encrusted antiquity for a brief rest and cup of hot water [[3366602]], looking towards Greamsay and musing on its origins.

 It is in fact of Old Norse derivation once again, translating as Grim's Steading, a name which hopefully did not have the same negative connotations as it does today. Would the Brothers Grimm have written such 'grim' tales if they'd been called 'cheerful' instead? of course they would, but trains of thought do tend to run away with you when you're on your own in open moorland. With the sun now out for the rest of the day I strode elatedly to this old settlement and spent ages photographing its various buildings and structures. [[3366589]], [[3366587]], [[3366586]], [[3366580]], [[3366572]] and [[3366568]]. I was intrigued to find a massive piece of quartz beneath one of the buildings [[3366585]]. I'm not sure I've seen such a massive piece before.

 I hadn't intended doing so, but I now decided to extend my walk yet again and walk to the east side of Loch Gearach. That way I could look for the recumbent standing stone and take in another grid square. This proved to be the most difficult part of the walk as there is nothing like a path across the sometimes boggy moorland, intersected by rivulets [[3366599]]. An old wall was evidence of previous habitation, suggesting it was once a less strenuous walk. [[3366582]]. Old iron fence posts were the last feature in this gridsquare before I set foot into the next [[3366606]].

 With very few features to aid navigation and thick heather underfoot, it was a while before I found the fallen standing stone (by definition it was not going to be THAT easy to find!) [[3366569]]. It was situated next to a curious pile of stones (this time they are DEFINITELY not marked on the map in any shape or form [[3366575]]. I used one of these to sit on and eat my picnic, whilst looking across to Cnoc Thornasaig [[3366584]].

 A very faint track leads from here back to Gearach [[3366600]]. For 'faint' read 'indecipherable' - at least in places. But it does become more distinct [[3366571]] and leads to a gate [[3366561]] at the dammed southern end of the Loch [[3374846]]. A ford across the Abhainn Gearach was my last feature of the day. [[3366562]]

 Despite extending my walk several times, I was still home for around 2.30 pm that day after a glorious day out in the hills with so many unexpected pleasant surprises. Isn't that what Mother's Day is all about? Oh, and I also got to talk to my kids later on that day!

 *Ileach is an Islay native text/html 2013-03-19T03:22:57+00:00 David Howard 51.478892274705 -0.58300795347782 Spring is coming http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/183 Although the calendar (read 'government') means the clocks don't go forward till the final day in March this year it's now not getting too dark for photos till 6pm, so ignoring their method of trying to cheat time and beginning my 2013 plans, even if I haven't yet carried any out yet. I was pleased to get the first medium trip a few weeks ago to the edge of Reading, as it made a little splash in a previously green void, and luckily since when I've been available more pre-Worboys road signs have turned up not too far away, and used them to cover as many green areas around them not yet covered. So following Reading [[3346733]] each week the pre-Worboys fairy has provided them in Jordans [[3351523]] (one I had but a variation and one on a public road), Addlestone [[3366094]](a repeat but far better condition, plus a few old council signs), and today a matching pair in Windsor, which were sitting on the ground when I got there as the brackets had become loose, they looked the same but not quite right flat on the floor.

 Without tempting fate with location details, the usual record breaking is all in the book now to follow. Maximum distance north and east, maximum distance between the most distant points (currently 122.8 miles), another myriad, which will bring the west maximum automatically if I do. Of course each year the distances become greater, with little under 60 miles now to make the slightest dent in my stats, the maximum single trip has been just over 70 miles with the digital setup as the crow flies, given the limit south is just about 50 miles before hitting the coast, so have to make it up by going further the opposite direction. The London congestion charge stymied my old A2/A20 trips [[2867642]] as I can't use the bridges over the river except one, which is clearly not worth joining the rest of the mugs while everyone using them for work (not many others would bother for pleasure I suspect) carries on as before. I've found one workround which is hoping to manage TR again [[3014504]], as I'd like a little more coverage around the edges, as my entire range of TR, TM, SZ and TV are coastal by two squares in, although TV is barely bigger by design. TM is estuarial this end, and very happy the Essex marshes stick out just far enough to get there, as when I planned to go right past them on the A12 I have already recorded the cause of a diversion elsewhere or nowhere.

 Meanwhile, being self employed as well as a ferocious collector, work has been picking up recently, meaning I don't feel guilty holding back the newly possible trips after a five month nature imposed close season, as earning money trumps any other activity to wipe out any trace of guilt I'm only wandering round the local park instead of taking to the A127. When I had more energy and a far bigger car I'd drive up to 500 miles in a day (Burry Port in Wales and back on the M4 for their last Edmondson train tickets before they stopped them) for old train tickets, but every decade of life has removed some physical energy which is replaced by mental power, and although many friends and family whizz around in their 80s I am not one of them despite being three decades younger. But these gifts are all handed out differently, and if I get tired more easily now compared to others it's beyond my scope, although I can lift 80 kg up to my waist (greater than my own weight, which is the main criterion in weightlifting) in the gym as stamina and muscular strength are two different qualities.

 Looking back to the 90s and first half of the 2000s I still whizzed around, and didn't even take the camera half the time as I still remembered and regretted the loss of the old train tickets I used to look for treasure wherever I went since 1970. And unless I went abroad, when I did I took a few railway stations (the next best thing) and any nice houses I saw as I always had. The biggest range for ages was a few days spent near Moreton-in-Marsh [[3092485]] , when I went to Stratford on Avon on day one, Bath on day two, Oxford on day three and Wooton Wawen on day four. Of course had I been on Geograph I'd have covered most of my entire mapping ambitions in a few days, and at least took photos in all corners partly as there were stations and a steam railway there, although it got dark very quickly in Bath and the camera let light in the few I managed beforehand. The other trick, started by my father in the early 80s as I was so far out on Gunnislake station platform, was taking me by the station name. It is a line only kept as it's so hard to cross the Tamar from Devon to Cornwall by road they keep the tiny branch line to allow people to do it by rail. So there's a second set of photos not eligible for my page regardless of me standing by random stations from there to Hythe in Essex, as well as Brussels.

 Talking of Brussels my earlier collection was foreign coverage, and having only missed Portugal on a cruise in 1974 as they had Cholera, so stopped just north of the border instead of Lisbon or Porto (as if the germs knew the difference) and had to make do with sailing less than a mile down the entire Portuguese coast on the way to Morocco. But that followed the opposite situation when my penfriend in Denmark came down with the flu and sent me home early, but my grandpa said he'd come over and we had another week in Copenhagen including two trips to Sweden earlier that summer. But the problems when travelling abroad can be 1000 times worse than in Britain, and after a few later on left it as the exception rather than the rule, and discovered the day trip in 1982 when we spent a lovely afternoon on the beach in Calais, which was as good as any in the world and far better than most opposite on the south coast here, and followed with a couple more in the 90s (one more in the 80s found the weather too bad for them to run so we took the little railway to Dungeness where I did take a good few pictures).

 But just like the hundreds of pre-Worboys signs I passed almost daily in London and didn't think to take photos, we can't turn the clock back and do what we should have at the time, and back then travel meant train tickets, and tended to use the camera properly only when going abroad, even though a few trips appear to have been without the camera which I still can't understand. So looking back at my entire live's travel history I am now looking forward, at my current collection of red squares for Geograph. Eventually I'll find a method on Paint to crop the map and then try and enlarge it when I've done enough to warrant it, and print out a nice record on paper, which I don't even know is possible using our little map program on others. I would definitely add my entire life's archive if I could use a different map for it, as it would just be small spots across the entire country, plus the ones I have added now as I have digital photos in those squares already now. I know we can't have extra profiles and currently no way to have two maps for different things, but I suppose the ones I do have are so rough most wouldn't be much of an addition besides recording my early life, but do have some good steam railways if little else. text/html 2013-03-14T10:53:18+00:00 Richard Law First-bagging in the National Nature Reserve of Cairnsmore of Fleet http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/182 Ever since seeing them from the ridge during a cold February walk with a friend on Cairnsmore of Fleet in 2009 [[1148401]], a group of 8 unGeographed squares in the valleys to the east had been winking at me. Id rather assumed (wrongly) that they must have been protected by some sort of access restrictions into the National Nature Reserve, but a call to the warden at the Dromore Visitor Centre confirmed that those sorts of archaic conditions genuinely only affect us poor souls in England and Wales. Open access on the hill is pretty much the case in Scotland, subject to a few stalking closures and the like. But not in Galloway, and not in February, so it was game on for a weekend.
 On this occasion, my mate was struggling with a bad knee, which limited his walking distance somewhat, and he was most interested in picking off Curleywee and Lamachan Hill, the last two unclaimed Southern Upland summits in his copy of the Corbetts book. So he dropped me and a bike at the northern end of the forest track that runs through to Dromore, and went off to do his own thing, with a vague Text me later, and well sort out when we meet this afternoon
 So the day started with a ride south through the forests of Knocknevis on a well established and well used track, part of Route 7 of the National Cycle Network [[3345774]]. At the junction with the track leading to the disused Grannoch Lodge, I hid the bike in a patch of heather (itll be fine, its hardly worth anything these days ) and walked west then north into the intriguingly-named Cleugh of Eglon [[3347187]] just short of Loch Grannoch [[453626]].
 Tough ground across half a mile of Molina grass and moor over Craigherron [[3347191]] led to the foot of a 700 climb (including a brief rocky scramble) onto Craigronald Hill [[3347226]], where at least the conditions underfoot became much easier; the sub-zero conditions undeniably helped in that respect. A steady walk west then south in improving weather, past [[3347352]] led up onto Meikle Mulltaggart, which needed photographing for the Hill Summits website Link as well as Geograph.
 Being a summit, the next section was inevitably downhill, back down towards the damper moorland and Little Mulltaggart [[3348294]] between the Carrouch and Mid Burns, passing a well-sited marker cairn [[3347381]] and some small rocky outcrops on the way [[3347387]]. Thence into the corrie of the Mid Burn, with a great view of the Clints of the Spout, an area of steep ground on the east side of the main Cairnsmore of Fleet hill [[3348300]]. This corrie is rather boggy, as the contours suggest, but a couple of hundred yards of tussock-hopping saw me to the small lochan [[3348306]], which issues the Mid Burn [[3348314]], and a choice of dry rocks for lunch a bit further downstream.
 A little more bog-trotting [[3348530]] as far as the Cardoon Burn [[3348534]] [[3350581]], and then it was back onto well made forest tracks for the long walk back to the bike via assorted signs of a working forest [[3350742]] [[3340751]] and the farm at Cullendoch [[3350759]].
 The main walk picked up 8 Firsts; there were also 2 just on (or very close to) the cycle route near Craigwhinne Hill [[3346568]] and [[3346916]] which fell victim to this long day out. Overall it comprises about 12 miles of cycling and the same amount of walking. Quite a result, but tiring. By the time Id ridden back to the A712 road at Clatteringshaws dam, my mate had been waiting in the car for little more than 15 minutes.
 The whole trip, slideshow and route, is documented fully on Rudi's Geotrips site at Link
 text/html 2013-03-13T15:52:16+00:00 Becky Williamson 55.825826247966 -6.2887719750643 Two Old Islay Farmsteads http://www.geograph.org.uk/blog/181 I seem to be having a bit of a thing at the moment for Islay ruins - the more isolated, the better! Hence, after checking the forecast and yep, it was going to be another beauty of a day, Fiona and I met at the Coullabus road end at 9.15 am to work out car positions and the route.

 The only thing was, it wasn't a beauty of a day. It turned out to be the bad day sandwiched between two good ones - and naturally the day we'd chosen to walk! Fiona is familiar with this terrain - we both are - but she had not walked the exact route we were going to be doing today; neither had I. That's what makes it exciting!

 We parked at Bun an Uillt (Mouth of the River) and walked towards the deer fence [[3367817]] and [[3367808]]. This deer fence has very recently been extended to protect Coill' a Chorra Ghoirtein (Wood of the Corncrake), which has been cleared of invasive Rhododendron and had extensive replanting of native species. [[3367974]].

 Walking was quite easy across to the ruined farmstead Corra Ghoirtein - an apt name for a farm in an area once heavily populated by this now rare farmland bird. [[3367807]] and [[3367856]]. From here we continued SE, turning back to view the ruined farmstead [[3367867]] and, in the distance (and not viewable on any photo), the distinct outline of Dubh Artach lighthouse. We followed the lower, north and north-eastern slopes of Maol nan Caorach [[3367881]] and [[3367957]] and then detoured eastwards to view the frozen Loch a' Chnuic Bhric (Loch of the Speckled Hill),[[3367863]], from where we flushed a solitary Teal.

 We were now on the eastern side of Maol nan Caorach (for which I have been unable to find a translation so it's 'Rounded Hill of [something]') [[3367950]] and continued through thick heather [[3367876]]. We were rewarded here by views of three species of raptors - a male Hen Harrier quartering the area, a Buzzard which was mobbing a Golden Eagle. It did not peservere for long however. The King of the Air soon left it behind and we watched as it flew westwards, staying in our binocular vision for about a couple of minutes before disappearing over Cnoc Breac.

 Looking back we could see the southern end of Loch a' Chnuic Bhric (which spans two gridsquares) [[3367880]]. We ascended the western slopes of Maol Bun an Uillt, passing an old boundary line [[3367878]] and [[3367815]] in order to step into the next gridsquare. From here we obtained what would have been a glorious view of the valley, through which the Abhainn Ghlas (Grey River) flows [[3367803]] and in the distant south-east, Loch Drolsay [[3367827]].

 We descended now to the river where we paused for lunch. The river was still slightly frozen from our recent frosts [[3367882]], [[3367875]] and [[3367804]]. I looked back from whence we'd come [[3367781]] before we plodded on to our next destination - another ruin. This was not visible until we were almost on top of it. Called, intriguingly Coille Mhòr (Big Forest), this old farmstead has no signs of cultivation nearby - nor existing evidence of any woodland. [[3367780]], [[3367809]] and [[3367823]]. The farmstead is also known as Bealach-na-guala (Gap of the brow of the hill) which makes more sense as the old farmstead is located at the foot of several small hills. The interior is now covered with heather which caused us to muse on the length of time since its inhabitation.

 We lingered here a while before heading north-west onto the bealach of Maol na Sròine and Maol na Coille. [[3367814]] Conveniently for us, the deer gate here was open [[3367959]] and the sun was now out, typically at the end of the walk! I took advantage of the emerging sunshine to photograph the terrain now covered [[3367811]] and that still to come [[3367819]] and Maol na Sròine (translation uncertain) [[3367852]] and [[3367946]].

 We were suddenly welcomed by a farm track in the bealach [[3367877]] and watched a small flock of Twite, a typical farmland bird which reminded us that we were approaching civilisation. As we summited Maol na Sròine, we looked across to Loch Gruinart, one of Islay's two sea lochs [[3367873]] and thus, our destination - one of our parked cars.