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Flying Crooked???

22 Jul

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Cabbage White

The butterfly, a cabbage-white,
(His honest idiocy of flight)
Will never now, it is too late,
Master the art of flying straight,
Yet has- who knows so well as I?-
A just sense of how not to fly:
He lurches here and here by guess
And God and hope and hopelessness.
Even the acrobatic swift
Has not his flying-crooked gift.
(Robert Graves)

I heard this poem for the first time on the radio many years ago when I was in my car and it struck a chord immediately.  So when I got home, I looked it up and subsequently used it as an opening to a sermon.  You see, to me, there is a message in it!  Most of the poem is about how useless the Cabbage White is because it just can’t fly straight – it just flies randomly in all directions with no direction at all.  It even compares it very unfavourably with the swift which has such amazing aerobatic skills.

But then right at the end it turns it around and says that far from being useless, it has a real gift for ‘flying crooked’ :) !  You see, its all about how you look at it – which led me to question, how do we look at ourselves?  You may not be able to ride a bike like Bradley Wiggins, or wield a tennis racket like Roger Federer; you may not be a Mother Theresa or a Martin Luther King – the Cabbage White is not a Swift……but he has his own gifts and strengths, as do we all!  Its all about how we see ourselves :) !

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Flying crooked!

Both pictures were taken on a recent walk – full blog to follow.  The second one was of course modified in Photoshop :) !

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

Your friend
The Dorset Rambler

All photographs on this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and may not be used without permission.

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Of fond memories, war and peace, and a snake that is not a snake!

16 Jul

PERCHED on my city office-stool,
I watched with envy, while a cool
And lucky carter handled ice. . . .
And I was wandering in a trice,
Far from the grey and grimy heat
Of that intolerable street….

So said the poet, Wilfred Gibson.  Well I am not on a stool and I’m not in a city but I am in my office that looks out onto my very green garden on a dull day and my mind wanders back to the one sunny day last week and a wonderful walk.

It started on the famous Sandbanks peninsula, said to be the forth most expensive real estate in the world with properties valued in millions.  It is just my parking place though and I am quickly transported to another world.  The transport is a chain ferry that runs to and fro across the entrance to Poole Harbour, apparently the second largest natural harbour in the world.  The journey is but a few hundred yards but it saves a drive of around 30 miles and it takes me from urban to country in a matter of minutes!  And it is an interesting experience to boot!

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The Sandbanks Ferry

I’ve been travelling on this ferry all my life but it never fails to give me a kick.  There is something magical and escapist in this ferry, maybe because it takes me back 60 years to when I was a child and we went to the beach, our wilderness area to explore and lose ourselves in…..ah, the wonder and simplicity of childhood!  The Sandbanks Ferry is one of those quirky things of Dorset and something to be blogged separately but for now, it’s on with our walk.

The ferry takes me across to Shell Bay, in my view one of the loveliest and most unspoilt beaches in Dorset.  It marks the start (or finish) of the 640 mile walk around the South West Coast of England – but my walk will cover just a few of those.

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Shell Bay

Stepping onto the beach brings back very fond memories from my childhood.  We used to walk the 5 miles from our home in Parkstone to spend the day on the beach, and when I say ‘we’ I mean the whole family, my parents, me and my 4 brothers (apart from when I was in a pram of course), grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins – we all used to go to the beach regularly.  We would spend the whole day there and then walk home again – well, we had no cars and with such a large family my parents often couldn’t afford the bus fare.

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The Dorset Rambler and family (I’m the baby of the family and that’s my pram behind) :)

The sand dunes became our mountains to climb and whoever reached the top first would sing out, ‘I’m the king of the castle, you’re the dirty rascal’ :) !  We would then kneel down and pulling ourselves along with our hands, make grooves like railway lines all around the beach.  There were great football and cricket matches, lots of sand castles and my father always took an old lorry inner tube that was either rolled hoopla fashion down the dunes or became our boat for further adventures!  It amazing how creative we were and how the simple things could become such an adventure.  I think that sense of wonder and excitement that we had as children is something to be treasured and carried with us even into old age, even if it does take more effort.  So many people lose that as they grow up and they are all the poorer for it!

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In the sand dunes today

For this walk, I didn’t linger on the beach – that was to be my way back.  My way out was along a very quiet path known as the Heather Trail.  This is a lovely route that winds through the heathland behind the dunes and it can be a very colourful walk at the right time of year.  This is the Egdon Heath of Hardy novels such as The Return of the Native.  With the accompaniment of the skylarks, it is a lovely place to be.

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The Heather Trail

It also skirts past swampy areas of heath with decaying trees – when we were younger, we used to imagine crocodiles and all kinds of snakes here.  There aren’t any of course – the adder is the only ‘dangerous’ snake we have and they don’t usually live in swamp areas.

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The ‘swamp’

Eventually the path comes back out onto the beach again…..and a part of the beach that needs care!  This is Studland Beach and part of it is noted for being an official naturist beach.  Walking this part, the camera usually stays firmly in its holster, although on this occasion, the skies were so amazing that I couldn’t resist taking a few pictures!  Clearly someone inland was getting wet but where I was, it was sunshine all the way :) !

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Heavy skies but the sun shines on the righteous ;)

Having passed through Hardy country, the walk took me on to another famous author as Studland is very much Enid Blyton territory.  Most of her novels were based here with the Famous Five and Secret Seven having their adventures around this coast.  In fact, with her husband, Enid Blyton owned the local golf club.  It seems strange that such an iconic children’s author once had her work banned by the BBC who described her on occasions as a ‘tenacious second rater’ whose books were ‘stilted and long winded’.  She was also felt to be racist and sexist!  Ah but we as children didn’t care what the critics said, we loved her books!  In the two pictures below, I’ve tried to create something Blyton-esque – pictures that might perhaps have appeared in one of her novels.

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One goes on an adventure!

The coastline at Studland is interesting and varied.  As you can see from the pictures above, the cliffs are sandstone with a beautiful array of warm colours, tones and patterns, and a few shallow caves too.  Later, this sandstone turns to chalk as we reach the start of the famous World Heritage Site – the Jurassic Coast of Dorset, so designated by UNESCO in 2001.  Perhaps that is a subject for a future blog too.  It is an amazing coastline and one which I never tire of visiting.

Walking along the beach, I am always struck by the peace, the gentle lapping of the waves, the calling of the gulls overhead, the lovely sound of the children playing in the distance, but it has not always been so peaceful.  There are several reminders of less peaceful times.  One is above the beach and one that we will pass later in the walk but one is right on the beach – it is an old Second World War pill box which nestles at a crazy angle on the sand.  This is a feature in many places along the coast and is perhaps a stark reminder of what our ancestors went through to bring the peace that we now enjoy.

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The pill box – with a robin on the top

It was as I was walking along this part of the route that there was another reminder of both war and peace, it was the faint drone of a plane’s engine growing louder as it came closer.  This was a troop carrying plane that often flies over this part of the coast, plying its trade to and fro, dropping paratroops out of the back – it looked like some giant insect giving birth as it flew with its new-born offspring gliding to earth.  I often envy the troops their view as they glide slowly and effortlessly down in the silence just carried by the warm air and breeze.  I’m not sure though that my envy would be quite so evident if I was stood at the back of the plane and about to leap out into the unknown!

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Giving birth ;)

The next stage of my walk took me away from the beach and up onto the clifftops….and to an altogether more agile flier than the cumbersome troop carrying plane.  Walking along the beautiful grass covered cliff top, I decided to rest and just enjoy the scene.  I sat on the grass and watched hundreds of martin’s wheeling through the air with amazing skill.  In fact I tried to watch them through the binoculars but they were just so fast, constantly changing direction, that I couldn’t follow them.  I guess they were making the most of the sunshine and having their dinner on the wing, swerving here and there to catch insects in flight.  It was a wonderful sight!  And the wild flowers were amazing too, almost as if someone had planted them – but then, I guess the great gardener himself did just that :) !

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On the cliff tops

It was time to move on and it wasn’t long before I reached Old Harry Rocks, the point at which Ballard Down reaches the sea.  There is some debate over how it got its name – some say Harry is named after the devil who took a nap there, and others say he is named after Harry Paye, an infamous local smuggler.  Either way, it is a beautiful and breathtaking place.

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Old Harry Rocks

It is impossible to get onto the stacks themselves but with care you can go down that slope to reach the tip of the ‘mainland’, a point known as St Lucas Leap – this was named after a greyhound who went over the cliff whilst chasing a hare.  Hmm, I can feel another blog entry coming on there too :) !

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St Lucas’ Leap

On the way back down the coast path, the memories from my youth and the remembrances of war came together.  I passed the cottage in the picture below – it sits right on the cliff top with fabulous views over Studland Bay.  It reminded me of a day in the 1950’s when I passed it whilst out (grudgingly) walking with my parents.  My father recognised the owner who was working in his garden and fell into conversation with him.  During the war my father was in Italy for three years as a driver in the army and this man was the colonel that he used to drive around.  He hadn’t seen him for many many years!  As an aside, I never knew what went on in wartime as my father never talked about it!

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The way back

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Of lush countryside, lovely meadows, two hill forts…….and a butterfly at last!

7 Jul

Well as I sit at my desk typing this blog, the rain is pouring down outside – yet again!!!  It’s been one on those years so far in England, just rain, rain, and more rain with just the odd better day in between.  Ah, the good old English summer – lazy, hazy, crazy days – don’t you just love ‘em!  We wish!  Actually I don’t mind walking in the rain if it starts raining when I’m already out, but there seems little point in going out if it is raining already…….but I miss walking when I am trapped in by the weather.  Still, without it what would we English have to talk about ;) !

I did manage to get out recently for a great walk through some lush countryside and some beautiful meadows, not to mention a couple of hill forts and an old mill.  It started with a lovely woodland walk with some gorgeous dappled sunlight filtering through the foliage (sadly the sun wasn’t to last long though :( )

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Through the dappled forest

And part way through the woodlands I came across a rather unusual tree that was playing host to a whole load of ferns.  Walter De La Mare’s poem, The Listeners, refers to ‘the forest’s ferny floor’ but maybe this should be changed to ‘the forest’s ferny trees’ ;) !  The tree was still living but was clearly decaying and moss covered, giving the ferns a foothold – or is that ‘root-hold’!

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The forest’s ferny trees

Out of the woodlands, my route took me down another of those oft seen ‘Smuggler’s Lanes’.  I haven’t been able to establish whether it really was a smuggler’s route or whether it was just named that because it was quite a secret and hidden path.  It wasn’t near the coast but I guess contraband needed to be taken well inland so it might well have seen illegal traffic in the long ago past.  Ah, if only those trees could talk, I’m sure they would have many a tale to tell!  For me though, it was just the beauty of the path that I enjoyed.

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Smuggler’s Lane

I told the story in my last blog entry of my ongoing battle with butterfies that taunted me constantly as I tried to photograph them.  Well on this walk I fooled them and I actually managed to grab some shots before they took off rather than after!!  The picture below shows a Meadow Brown butterfly wearing his rather nice fur coat.  He clearly knew what the English summer was going to be like ;) !

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Meadow Brown

There were butterflies everywhere along this route, partly because the hedgerows were so thick with plants and flowers, I saw so many different varieties.  It is amazing when you look at these delicate ‘flying flowers’ to think that some of them actually migrate and have flown a thousand miles to get here.  They don’t look capable of flying that far or indeed of flying in any specific direction – as the poem says, they have a definite gift of ‘flying crooked’!

The hedgerows themselves were thick with wild flowers and were so beautiful to walk through, it was a delight, especially in the warm summer sun.  I think it is difficult to capture in a photograph because you need to use all the senses to fully appreciate the beauty, to feel the sun’s warmth, to hear the birds and the rustling of the leaves and to feel the gentle breeze.  I did take a couple of pictures though……and tried to find a different angle too :) !

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Hogweed

For some plants, you have no choice but to lay on the ground, like the Common Spotted Orchid below.

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Common Spotted Orchid

This was a real walk of variety and the next part took me up onto the hilltop, well in fact, up onto two prehistoric hill forts.  The first was covered in lovely meadow grass and wild flowers – it would have taken me a long time to identify all the different varieties.  And the views from the ramparts were spectacular on this clear day.  There were cattle and sheep grazing and I thought, ‘What a great place to eat’ – so I joined them!  I ate sandwiches of course, not grass ;) !

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Across the ramparts

Then it was down into the valley and up onto the next hill fort and an even bigger surprise.  At the top was a fantastic field of poppies.  It was a photographer’s paradise!  And clearly a few had been there before me as quite a lot of the flowers had been clumsily trampled down :( !  Well of course I managed to take one or two pictures as well although I am always careful where I tread.  The code of the country says ‘Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints, kill nothing but time’ but sadly not all observe that!

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The poppy field

The colours were really vibrant in the now hazy sunlight, although despite their beauty, it is still quite difficult to get a satisfying composition for a photograph.  I guess you are always left with the feeling that you just haven’t done it justice – well how can you!  Further along the hill, there are more ramparts, and well defined ones too.  It seems hard to imagine that these ramparts were dug out by men with primitive tools.  As you stand looking at the views though, you can see why they ‘built’ the fort and with the wind whipping up from the valley, you can perhaps imagine a little of what life must have been like up there in those bygone days.

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On the hill fort

Dropping off the hill, my route passed through probably the worst part of the walk and yet there were still lovely things to see.  I had to walk through a farm and as often is the case, farms=mud!  And there was mud aplenty!  Not only that but I had to plough my way through the most overgrown footpath that I think I have ever walked!  It led me the next day to make a few phone calls to see if the path could be sorted which is something the local authority will do if you report a problem.  However it was not that simple.

There are a number of types of byway – 1) the public roads, 2) public footpaths and 3) all vehicle public routes (these fit somewhere between 1 and 2 and are often farm tracks or old lanes/drove trails.  My overgrown footpath fitted into category 3 which is dealt with under roads and highways and whilst they have a budget to maintain the public roads, they have no budget to maintain the lesser routes such as mine.  So basically there is a budget to maintain the roads and there is a budget to maintain public footpaths, but there is no budget to maintain the routes that fall between the two extremes!  Ah well, I tried.

I did in the end make it through the overgrown lane and came out into a clearing where there was an old mill – I suspect that the overgrown lane once served the mill.  This is now a private dwelling but as I looked at it, I could just picture in my minds eye the miller leaning on that stable door getting some air and clearing his lungs of the flour dust that would have filled the mill in those days.

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The old mill

Apart from the old mill, one of the other lovely things I passed on this part of the walk was a gorgeous barley field.  These fields are always great to see but especially so when there is a bit of wind and as you stand watching the barley waving its heads in the breeze, you can almost feel you are standing before a huge lake with gentle waves washing across the water.

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The barley field

My walk was almost completed but there was one more crop to pass, another cereal crop which I thought was particularly picturesque with those curving tramlines running through it.  The sun had long since gone by now but at the end of a great day in the Dorset countryside it made a beautiful sight.

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Down the tramlines

Another magical day in Dorset, and one to be savoured as I look out at the still falling rain!

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

Your friend

The Dorset Rambler

The pictures on this blog are all the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and must not be copied or reproduced without permission.

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Back to walking in beautiful Dorset, a cat that plays ball…..and a car that doesn’t!

22 Jun

Well, having scaled the heights of Snowdonia in my recent posts, we are back in beautiful Dorset today – and beautiful it was with some strange blue stuff above me and even a big round yellow thing ;) !  It was actually sunshine and blue skies which is something of a miracle this ‘summer’!!

I parked up in a north Dorset village right outside the church so before I even got walking I had a look round – village churches are always so interesting and this one was no exception.  The thing that caught my eye was a lovely circular window with stained glass depicting the verse ‘Suffer the little children to come unto Me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven’.  It was unusual to see a circular window.

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Suffer the little children to come unto Me

Those who have been following my blog will know that I regularly look round churches on my walks.  This is partly because I love the old church architecture and the different styles that were popularised through the ages such as Norman, Early English, Decorated, Perpendicular etc as well as the fact that everything has a meaning or conveys a message, things such as gargoyles, bench ends and so on.  Not long ago there was a documentary on television called ‘How to Read a Church’ which was really interesting because unless you know what you are looking at, the messages are all lost.  More than this though, I love the sense of all the lives that have been touched by these churches over hundreds of years – this is a far greater legacy than the purely architectural heritage and goes much deeper.  And along with this is the pure witness of the churches – after all, when you approach a village on a walk, what is the first thing you see – it is the church tower standing proud and declaring the message of Christianity to all.

But I was challenged recently!  I went into a church, looked at all the interesting features, took lots of photographs and was on my way out when I stopped short!  This was a house of prayer and all I had done was look around and take pictures!  So I made a decision that whenever I look round a village church, I will always offer a prayer for those who worship there, for the local people whose lives are impacted by its presence.

Once I’d got going on my walk, I very quickly came across the most beautiful meadows that were rife with wild flowers and butterflies.  The flowers were comparatively easy to capture with the camera but not so the butterflies – but more of that later!

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Dandelions and blue skies

I just love meadows!  With the long grasses, dandelions, daisies, buttercups, orchids and all manner of other colourful flowers waving their heads in the breeze – for me, its almost as spiritual a place as being in church.

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In the meadows

So back to those butterflies :) !  They are so pretty, delicate and harmless aren’t they, but I think they have a devious side!  So there I am walking across this meadow and the butterflies, loads of them, flutter past me and settle on a stem of grass right in front of me.  I get my camera out carefully and approach stealthily and they just sit there whilst I frame the shot and focus the camera.  The shutter release is halfway down and I’m about to capture a classic competition winning shot…….and they take off leaving me with a lovely shot of a blade of grass.  So I walk on a short distance, they flutter past me again, settle on a blade of grass, and the whole thing is repeated again!  I’ll swear that they have a grin on their faces as they take off ;) !!  So I gave up and they won the day!

It wasn’t only the butterflies that toyed with me either!  The cows, well heifers, did the same.  I crossed several fields that were part of a dairy farm and they kept following me – they are inquisitive little things.  Every time I stopped and turned round, they stopped too.  Maybe they thought I was the pied piper of Hamlyn!

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Nosy!

About half way round my circular walk, I came across another delightful village church.  This one was full of photographic opportunities such as beautiful windows with the most gorgeous light coming through onto the flowers that had been placed on the window sills inside.  I think the window below was really lovely in an understated way with its plain glass.

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The church window

The window below had tinted glass which really warmed the soft light coming through.

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Beautiful light

But it wasn’t only the interior, the churchyard was lovely too.  It had the most gorgeous copper beech tree and the afternoon sunlight really brought out the fabulous colours of its summer foliage.  I often eat my lunch in graveyards which might make me seem strange but they are great places for finding wildlife……and besides, they are often the only places you can find a seat :) !

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The graveyard copper beech 

Part of the walk took me down some country lanes.  Now normally I like to avoid roads but country lanes are different provided they are quiet.  They can actually be very pretty in the summer when the hedgerows are vibrant with wild flowers and there are usually some lovely old typical Dorset thatched cottages to add interest as well as the odd orchard or nature reserve to detour onto.  The hedgerows seemed to be particularly vibrant on this walk.

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The hedgerows

There seemed to be a lot of the plants in the picture below – like miniature conifer trees.  I believe it is great horsetail and that lovely fresh green colour looks striking with the low sunlight streaking through from behind.

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Great Horsetail

There was a surprising amount of what I call ‘autumn’ colours too – I loved the subtle changes in tones in the picture below, ranging from the deep red new growth, through reddish orange and yellow to green.  God is such a great ‘painter’ of colours!

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Subtle hedgerow tones

And hogweed, probably not the most attractive plant but its hairy stems always look great when backlit by the sun.

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Hogweed

Eventually the country lane led me to another village and here, it was The Dorset Rambler to the rescue again!!  This time it was a little bird, a blue tit, in the mouth of a cat!  Actually I didn’t set out to rescue it, I could just see that the cat had something in its mouth and when I went towards him he let it go and it flew unharmed up into the tree in the cottage garden.  I was glad I happened along at that moment though!

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The cottage garden

The last few miles of the walk took me through the most beautiful parklands that surrounded the local manor house.  It was the golden hour, the time when the sun is getting low in the sky and the light is at its best – if you are a photographer you will know that morning and evening light is by far the best.  The grounds had been landscaped and planted with a whole variety of different trees so naturally I spent more time taking pictures than walking!

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Parklands

It was a spectacular end to a fabulous day’s walking back in my beloved Dorset – but sadly the day wasn’t to end as I’d hoped!  As I drove home feeling very satisfied, the car broke down and I had to call the RAC who were unable to fix it so it had to be transported back on a rescue truck.  I spend a lot of time sat by the roadside waiting to be collected.  So what does a photographer do when he has time on his hands……take pictures of course.  I wandered off with my camera :) !

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Beside the country road

Whatever happens and wherever you are, there is always something beautiful if you just look for it :) !

PS – I did get home safely at about midnight and the car is now at the car hospital having an operation :) !

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler :)

Your friend, The Dorset Rambler

The pictures on this blog are all copyright of The Dorset Ramble and must not be reproduced or used without permission.

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Sadness – conceptual photography as art!

13 Jun

As you will know, I am predominantly a landscape photographer, partly because I love walking, the countryside, wildlife, just being outdoors etc and that combines well with landscape photography. But while I was walking the other day I was thinking about what actually makes up a landscape photograph:

1. Maybe 30% comprises the various elements – mountains, hills, lakes, rivers, trees etc.
2. Maybe 30% is down to the light/atmosphere.
3. Perhaps 20% is down to the technical aspects – exposure, focus, sharpness and so on.
4. Maybe 20% is down to the variables such as the viewpoint, time of day etc.

Looking at that list, the reality is that the photographer only controls number 4, all the others are down to God and Mr Canon or Mr Sony or whoever made the camera – ultimately I guess that one is down to God too because He made the people who made the camera (hmm, of course He made me too so who really takes the credit for a photograph?). OK, the percentages I have quoted are arbitrary and you might disagree with them, but you get the point!  The photographer has input into perhaps 20% of the overall picture because after all, if God hadn’t created the mountains, hills, rivers etc and placed them there, or indeed made the people who made the camera, then the picture would not be possible.

OK, I realise I have very much over simplified things, but the point of all this is that we all need creativity in some form and sometimes I crave more creativity than just recording the scene (as much as I love that), to have more freedom and input into the end result, to just let the imagination run free!  I used to paint in oils and with that, you start with a blank canvas and you create the whole thing apart from the fact that you probably didn’t make your own paint, Mr Rowney or Mr Windsor and Newton probably did that.  One day when I am fully retired, I will get my paints out again but for the time being at least, photography to a greater or lesser extent fulfills my creative ‘needs’.

Recently, I went out for a walk through some meadows with the deliberate intention of taking some shots which were more than just a record of the landscape, to produce some shots which say something deeper or invoke some feelings in the viewer.  One of these shots is below – I’m hoping you get the point behind the picture!

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Sadness!

This is conceptual photography as art!

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler!

Your friend

The Dorset Rambler

The photographs on this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and may not be reproduced without permission.

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Ramblings (and scramblings!) with King Arthur on The Snowdon Horseshoe :)

7 Jun

I have a number of ‘favourite’ walks (if that is not an oxymoron!) and one of these is the fabulous Snowdon Horseshoe which I had a chance to enjoy again on our recent holiday in North Wales.  I say ‘walk’ although I’m not sure it can really be classed as that because much of it is a grade 1 scramble or perhaps even more severe depending on the route you take.  I guess part of the reason I enjoy it is because it is in many ways in stark contrast to walking in Dorset which is much more about beautiful rolling countryside than the ruggedness which is everywhere in Snowdonia.

The route started at Pen Y Pass, the high point on the pass that cuts through the mountains at Llanberis and the first part followed the route of the Pyg Track, one of several paths to the Snowdon summit.  It is a very craggy path and gets its name from the Pen Y Gwryd, a nearby hotel much used by the early climbers.

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On the Pyg Track with Crib Goch in the distance

The Pyg Track is a relatively straight forward introduction to the main walk on the Horseshoe route but I followed it only as far as Bwlch Y Moch (pass of the pigs) where the main work began!  From here, whilst the Pyg Track continued its way more directly onto Yr Wyddfa, the highest summit of Snowdon, my route left that track and headed directly up the very steep and craggy mountainside onto the top of Crib Goch.

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The Pyg Track winds its way on but my route was directly up the mountainside ahead

It may seem strange to take the most difficult route when there is a much easier way but I have to say that the rewards are great!  Crib Goch is one of the best scrambles in Wales, it is both extremely challenging but also do-able and I do love a good scramble where you are required to use hands and feet to haul yourself to the top which in the case of Crib Goch is at 3,000 feet.  And having overcome the challenges of the ascent, you are greeted by the sight below :) !

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The arete of Crib Goch with the distant peaks of Garnedd Ugain (right) and Yr Wyddfa (left)

In the picture above, you can see the route from this point which follows the top of the ridge which zig zags its way eventually to the Snowdon summit and then continues down the ridge to the left to climb over several more peaks before dropping back down off the mountain.  The whole ridge is extremely exposed and you feel quite vulnerable with the sheer drops down each side, particularly when the wind whips across the top.  It is even more exposed when the weather is bad……..but I was blessed with good weather :) !  In fact of course it is that very exposure that makes it such an awesome ‘walk’, as well as the fabulous views that are all around!  The highest point along the Crib Goch Arete are the Pinnacles which you can see in the pictures below.  It is possible to skirt round these but being a purist ridge walker, my route went over the top!

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The Pinnacles

Having made my way across Crib Goch, the route eased off slightly for a short time at Bwlch Goch, a slightly lower pass on the ridge.

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Looking back at Crib Goch from Bwlch Goch

But not for long!  Looking ahead, the bulk of Crib Y Ddysgl (rake of the dish) loomed up – this is another scramble leading to the top of Garnedd Ugain.  You can get something of the scale in the picture below because there is someone dressed in red just starting the climb.

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Crib Y Ddysgl and Garnedd Ugain loom ahead

I said before that the views are amazing from all along this ridge.  Far below is Glaslyn which literally means ‘blue lake’ – this sits below the Snowdon summit.

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Glaslyn and Yr Wyddfa, the Snowdon summit

And looking back from Garnedd Ugain, you can see where the route has taken me so far.

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Looking back at Crib Goch from Garnedd Ugain

Fron Garnedd Ugain, the walk was fairly straight forward for a time (and at this point it is a walk :) ) across the col of Bwlch Glas and up the slope to the main Snowdon summit.  The main difficulty here is simply the number of people on the top as there are ‘tourist’ routes and even a rack and pinion railway up to that point.  And on top is the inevitable cafe!!  When I walk, I prefer to be away from the crowds so I hurried straight through and onto the next part of my ‘walk’.

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Looking west from Bwlch Glas across Glaslyn and Llyn Llydaw

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The Snowdon Mountain Railway

You might think that dropping down off the summit would be easier but actually it isn’t!  For a lot of the time, the route drops down a scree slope with lots of loose rocks which can be lethal if you are not careful.  If you are not reasonably sure footed, you could wind up on your backside numerous times, or worse, not to be recommended!  Mind you, I felt a bit smug when I passed the people in the picture below as they still had a long way to go before reaching the top!

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Dropping down the scree slope from the summit with Llyn Llidaw far below

Eventually, the path did level off onto a better surface at Bwlch Y Saetheau (pass of the arrows).  This is said to be where King Arthur’s knights fought their last battle and tradition has it that they are still waiting for the battle trumpet to wake them up to rid Wales of the Saxon invaders!  The better footpath did give a good opportunity to enjoy the views…..except that those views included the twin peaks of Y Lliwedd which of course I had to climb up and over!!

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The view from Bwlch Y Saetheau with Y Lliwedd in the distance

And as I got nearer, the slope up to the peaks seemed even more steep!

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Y Lliwedd – the only way is up!

Having moved on from the main summit, I left the crowds behind and apart from some other walkers in the distance, it was just me with seagulls for company!  Where there is food, there are seagulls – at this point I had decided that an afternoon snack was called for!

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Where there is food, there are seagulls!

From Y Lliwedd there are great views across Llyn Lliddaw which is a huge Snowdon reservoir nestling in the valley and surrounded by the Horseshoe – you can see Crib Goch across the lake in the picture below.  According to some, Llyn Llydaw is the famous Arthurian lake from which Excaliber appeared and later returned.  From this point, it really was all downhill to the shore of Llyn Llidaw, although again it was down rocky scree slopes and over rough ground so definitely a testing downhill section.  In fact it is so hard on the feet and it was such a hot day that it was a relief to get back onto more level ground again and to sit on the edge of the lake and soak my feet for a while :) !

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Llyn Llydaw, a Snowdon reservoir

The final stretch of the walk was along the very well surfaced (and level) Miners’ Track which was, as the name suggests, used by workers when Snowdon was being mined for copper.  The mine itself is beside Glaslyn, immediately below the summit, but there are old mine buildings beside Llyn Teyrn, the lake in the picture below.

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Llyn Teyrn with the Snowdon range in the distance

As I walked round Llyn Teyrn on the final stretch of a stretching walk, I turned and looked across the lake with its old mine buildings to the Snowdon range as the sun began to fade to blue and I was a deeply satisfied man :) !  What a great day!

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler!

Your friend

The Dorset Rambler

All images in this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler and must not be used without permission.

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A mountain ‘sc-ramble’ – aka The Leap of Faith to the Freedom of Tryfan :)

30 May

My name has now changed – I think I am ‘The Dorset Scrambler’ ;) !

This was a great ramble up a mountain – well, not a ramble but more a scramble which I thoroughly enjoyed :) !  And not in Dorset because Dorset has no mountains!  We have just returned from a week in Snowdonia, North Wales, and although it was a family holiday, I managed to escape for a couple of great walks, one around Mount Snowdon itself (blog coming soon) and one up a fabulous peak called Tryfan which I have wanted to climb for a long time.

Tryfan is a fin shaped mountain in the Snowdonia Range and it stands at a little over 3,000 feet.  Its name literally means ‘three peaks’ because………it has three peaks ;) !  It is a popular mountain with many routes up of varying difficulty, and it is one I have wanted to climb for a long time.  I chose to go directly up the North Ridge which is a long and for most parts a difficult scramble, in fact it verges on climbing in places.  It is the ridge running upwards from right to left in the picture below.

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Tryfan from the east

The route started in the beautiful Ogwen Valley and initially followed a fairly straight forward rocky path beside a dry stone wall but things quickly became more difficult when the path reached Milestone Buttress and skirted steeply round this (the Buttress itself is for climbers only!).  Even early on, the views on this ‘walk’ are spectacular as you look down on Llyn Ogwen.

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Llyn Ogwen seen from the foot of Milestone Buttress

Something that added to the enjoyment of this walk was that I had decided to do it in the evening.  Whilst this meant enjoying the evening sunset from the mountain top, it also meant that I had limited time to complete what is a 4 hour ‘walk’ – to be caught out up a strange mountain after dark with no torchlight would be somewhat difficult to say the least, but it added an extra dimension, a sort of extra level of adventure which I enjoyed.

The route up was a mixture of slightly easier sections and some steep or near vertical sections which verged on climbing.  I think the line between the two is a little blurred but generally scrambles cover ground which is less the vertical and where ropes are not required.  I am blessed with being sure footed and having a good head for heights so was able to make quick progress but if you were someone who suffered from vertigo, you wouldn’t want to attempt this route!

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A narrow ledge with near vertical rock faces

Part way up stands the Canon Rock, so called because it resembles a canon.  It is of course traditional to have your photo taken standing at the end of the rock and who am I to break the tradition!  The only thing was I was on my own!  It must have been an interesting sight – resting the camera on the ground, setting the self-timer, and then climbing up to the base of the rock before running up the 45 degree angle to the top before the shutter fired.  It took several attempts to get it right :) !  It wasn’t the only traditional challenge on this route – the Leap of Faith was to come, but more of that later!

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The Canon Rock with Lynn Ogwen far below

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The Dorset Rambler standing on The Canon Rock

I say I was alone but I mean of course without human company – there was much wildlife for company, including a group of mountain goats that were foraging for food on the most exposed parts.

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Tea time for the mountain goats

After two hours of scrambling I finally reached the summit and the next challenge!

At to top, there are two rocks approximately 3 metres high known as Adam and Eve and there is a gap of around 4 feet between them.  Tradition has it that anyone who can take the Leap of Faith between the two rocks receives the Freedom of Tryfan.  Now a 4 feet jump between two rocks may not seem much at ground level but it is altogether more challenging when you stand on top and look down at the shear drop of hundreds of feet down one side particularly, and of course not forgetting the wind that whips across the mountain at 3,000 feet up!

In fact, just getting up onto the top was difficult as there is very little in the way of hand or foot holds on either rock.  The thought of doing it within the 10 seconds allowed by the self timer on my camera would have been an impossible challenge – but fortunately there were other people at the top and one kindly agreed to take a picture for me.  But that added another challenge – I had to do it with people watching!!!

Anyway, it was fine and I did it – in both directions just to prove it wasn’t a fluke!  So The Dorset Rambler now has the Freedom of Tryfan ;) !  Now, how do I get down from this rock……

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The Leap of Faith 3,000 feet up :)

With evening drawing in, everyone left to make their way down, leaving me alone on the summit.  I have to say that it was a magical evening and it felt great sitting at the top of the mountain all on my own eating supper whilst watching the sun set!  The view over the Ogwen Valley with the river, Afon Ogwen, snaking its way into the distance was just breathtaking!

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The sun setting on Tryfan

Not that I could sit there for too long as I didn’t want to run out of light (because it was a family holiday I hadn’t gone prepared with all the usual emergency equipment like head torches etc!).  So I too headed down the south side of the mountain, past the south peak into Bwlch Tryfan, the col between Tryfan and its neighbouing peak of Glyder Fach.  It always seems strange to me that even at the top of these passes there are dry stone walls with great wooden ladder stiles over them.  It must have been quite a task building these walls as they snake their way up the mountainside!

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The ladder stile and dry stone wall at Bwlch Tryfan

And then it was a very pleasant walk down through the valley as I watched the sun sink further towards the horizon, reflecting off one of natures mirrors – Llyn Bochlwyd.

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The setting sun reflects off Llyn Bochlwyd in the Cwm Bochlwyd Valley

And when I reached the lake I overtook my summit friends who waved goodbye.

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My summit friends take a break by Llyn Bochlwyd

Finally after three and a half fabulous hours, I reached Llyn Ogwen again as the last light faded from the evening sky.  It had been an amazing evening ‘walking’ in scenery which in many ways is in total contrast to Dorset’s rolling landscape, more rugged but equally beautiful.  I was blessed with fabulous weather which is something which definitely doesn’t always occur in the Welsh mountains!

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Llyn Ogwen and the Ogwen Valley

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

Your friend,

The Dorset Rambler

AWARDED THE FREEDOM OF TRYFAN ;)

All pictures on this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler

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A walk with great company :)!

15 May

This was a walk with a difference – I had company, and just the best company too :) !  Because I mostly walk during the week, I normally walk alone which is fine because I am quite happy in my own company and besides, you are never really alone out on the trail because you always bump into some interesting people along the way.  But this time my son Paul and his lovely wife Laura came with me :) !  Now Paul is a best friend as well as my son – we are kindred spirits, and the three of us make a great team out on the trail.  And what a great walk we had!

It started in some beautiful meadows, famous meadows in fact, with bluebells everywhere and even an orchid or two!  Plus of course lots of orange tip butterflies, so called because their wings have……..orange tips!!

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An Early Purple Orchid with bluebells

There were several ponds along this 16 mile walk, some man made and some natural…….in fact there were some ponds on the footpath itself because of all the rain we have had recently – but more of that later!  The pond below is actually part of a fishery and it is in a beautiful setting in a small hamlet.  Overhanging the pond and tied to a tree branch was a swing which just needed someone sat on it to create a prize winning photograph.  We tried to persuade Laura to pose on it for us but for some reason she declined ;) !

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The fishery pond

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A swing just begging for someone to sit on it ;)

After all the rain we have had recently, everything looked so beautifully clean, fresh and lush.  In fact we decided that the word of the day should be VERDANT because everything everywhere was just that!  At one point we dropped down through a valley and the light coming through the tress threw such lovely shadows across all the greenery – it was just magic!

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Verdant, the word of the day!

Mind you, that rain brought problems too as the paths in many places were extremely muddy or even impassable because they had ‘ponds’ of their own.  On occasion it meant detouring off the track and following an obstacle course over fences and through hedges just to get round the obstruction.  It was either that or take off the shoes and socks and paddle!!  I did suggest to Paul that he should do the gallant thing and carry Laura through the puddles, but we climbed fences instead ;) !

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An unforeseen ’pond’

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Part of the obstacle course ;)

Apart from puddles and ponds, something else we had aplenty was clouds, lots of fluffy white sky sheep swimming across the deep blue swimming pool of the sky.  Very photogenic!

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Fluffy sky sheep – or is that an airship?

Half way round our circuit we passed the lovely Manor House in the picture below.  It sits in an idyllic position in a tiny hamlet in a beautifully picturesque valley, and it was clearly well looked after.  We met the current ‘lord’ of the manor – although he is not really a lord any more, just a wealthy person.  He was another of those friendly country folk that I so often seem to get talking to on my travels and he told us a bit about the house and the hamlet it sits in.

It was once a village with around 100 inhabitants but with the declining manpower needed to run the farms, it is now down to a small hamlet of about 16 people.  The Manor House itself dates mostly from the 17th century and at one point it became almost derelict.  So much so that an underground spring actually ran through the lounge which was very useful to the local pig farmer who took his pigs into the lounge to be slaughtered so that the blood would be washed away by the spring!  A bit gruesome but it is part of the history and heritage of the now restored Manor.

The hamlet has its own church dating from the 1870′s and this too is now owned by the current ‘Lord’ of the Manor who paid the princely sum of £50 for it not long ago.  It has to be maintained in good order as a church so it’s great that he felt able to take it on and preserve a part of history that might have otherwise become derelict!

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The manor house

Shortly after passing the Manor, we came across another pond with some great photographic opportunities…….and Laura almost provided a great action shot opportunity for me, but she resisted ;) !  Paul is taking a photograph by the way so was oblivious to what she was doing ;) !!!

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Go on!  There’s a great picture to be had!

Now normally, I try to avoid any convenience food or drink when on a walk, preferring to have my sandwiches sat somewhere in the countryside.  This walk however took us through a town and when we heard the chimes of an ice cream van, we couldn’t resist!

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Ice cream time, even if it doesn’t go with the rugged outdoor image :)

This is another walk that takes in one of those sunken lanes and you can get a sense of scale from the picture below.  These lanes always intrigue me – it could be that it was formed simply by water running off the hills but I prefer to think of it as having been deliberately dug to make a route for smugglers carrying their contraband in unseen!  It really is an awesome place to walk!

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A smuggler’s route?

As always, there were many sheep with lambs on the route and for the third time recently The Dorset Rambler came to the rescue of one little lamb.  There was a tree in the particular field which had a fence around it and somehow the lamb had found its way into the fenced off area and it couldn’t get out.  It was bleating pitifully and was throwing itself against the fence in an effort to escape – sheep are a bit dense I think!  With some difficulty because it kept running away from me, I managed to get it out and ran happily across to its mum…….and a good feed!!Image

Happy families!

Shortly after, we met another interesting character!  He was the local farmer who was using a JCB to dig a hole in the middle of one of his fields.  It seemed a bit of a random thing to do so we stopped and asked him, ‘Why?’  Apparently there is a network of land drains running throughout the field and one had exploded and needed repairing.  Without it, a verdant green grassy field would become nothing more than a useless quagmire!  He told us all about his farm which was several thousand acres of arable, sheep and cows, all operated by 5 people.  In the past of course that one farm would have been split into numerous smaller farms, each of which would have employed many men.  And of course the huge field we were stood in would have been numerous smaller fields too.  How times change with the coming of more sophisticated machinery!  With the loss of all those hedgerows that provided cover for much wildlife, the change is not all good!

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Care, exploding land drains!

As evening settled over the countryside and the beautiful golden hour approached, we passed through another lovely wooded area.  How the scene changes at this magic time of day.  Even the conifers look picturesque with their new foliage uncurling!

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A lovely evening woodland walk

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Even the conifers take on a special beauty in the golden hour!

As we neared the end of the walk, the sun was setting and we dropped down off the hilltop and into the valley.  And there was just time for one more photograph, a reminder of a special day!  Memorable for great scenery and sun, memorable for lots of water and mud, memorable for fences climbed and lambs rescued, memorable for interesting and friendly country folk, but memorable most of all for the company of two great people who are close to my heart!

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Two special people!

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler!

Your friend,

The Dorset Rambler

Please note that all photographs on this blog are the copyright of The Dorset Rambler

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Two castles, two ponds and two very different people!

10 May

This was another lovely walk, 21 miles through the beautiful north Dorset countryside and some interesting things and interesting people on the way!

It started with two castles, an old castle and a ‘new’ castle!  To be more exact they are fortified palaces with the original one being built in the 12th century and destroyed by the Parliamentarians in 1645 during the English Civil War.  It was at one time owned by Sir Walter Raleigh having been gifted to him by Queen Elizabeth.  He originally tried to improve the old castle but in the end he gave up with that and in 1594 built a lodge which was eventually to become the ‘new’ castle.  Just as an aside, Sir Walter Raleigh fell out of favour with royalty and he was beheaded in 1618.  Apparently his head was embalmed and given to his devoted wife and it is said that she kept it in a velvet bag until her death some 29 years later when it was reunited with his body in his tomb!

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The old castle on the left across the water and the new castle on the right

Having passed the castles, the walk took in some really beautiful parkland with great paths to walk on – it made a great change after the muddy paths of recent walks.  I think you can just imagine royalty riding along these paths in their carriages, or whilst out with the hunting parties.

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Beautiful parkland

Shortly after exiting the parkland, I came across the first of the ponds – or rather a series of small ponds.  They were in a beautiful setting on the edge of a village beside a farm and it wasn’t clear whether they were private or not.  They weren’t fenced off and there were no signs so I took the opportunity to grab a picture or two.

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Pondlife

On this walk there were many rape fields, and very beautiful they were, like bright yellow table cloths laid out ready for a spring picnic.  It seems really strange that these crops which are so pretty bear a name which has such horrible connotations and it made me wonder where the name comes from – it apparently derives from the Latin word for turnip!  The fields do seem to be particularly vibrant this year!

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Beautiful rape fields

Whilst I was walking, they were spraying the crop….which concerned me a little!  I am not sure what they spray it with, but I am sure that it is not intended for human consumption particularly when it is in neat form.  Fortunately the day was still and I was able to avoid getting too close so I managed to avoid breathing it in.  On the plus side, it was interesting watching what looked like an aeroplane driving up and down the fields…….and of course it gave me a nice focal point for a picture :) !

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Ah, lovely fresh air ;)

It wasn’t long before I came across the second pond, a much larger affair than the earlier pond and equally beautiful.  The public footpath circled right along the bank so I was able to enjoy the labours of the landowners.

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The second pond

The pond was part of the grounds of a ‘manor’ house (I use inverted commas as I am not sure that it technically qualifies as a manor although it was a very large house with many acres of land) and in fact the ‘Lord and Lady’ of the manor were showing some friends around their grounds.  The ‘Lady’ and I fell into conversation and I commended her on the beautiful grounds and she was very quick to give the credit to others, saying, ‘We have a good gardener’.  She also told me that they had recently improved the stiles across their land which is quite refreshing as many landowners neglect the public footpaths that they are meant to keep in good order!  These were lovely people and I bade my farewell and moved on.

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A beautiful place for a public footpath

There were a number of lovely village churches on this walk.  The church below was renovated in the late 1800′s and when the survey was carried out, it was discovered that most of the church, including the tower, had only one foot of masonry below ground and virtually no foundations.  The restoration improved the situation and the church still stands although as you can see in the picture below, the walls lean at a slightly crazy angle!

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The church with leaning walls

One of the interesting things about this church is the east window which is ‘stained glass’ but more modern than the other glass in the church.  It depicts the crucifixion scene and Christ’s tomb.

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An interesting ‘stained glass’ window

The church also contains a 15th century tomb with an alabaster effigy.  As is often the case, this is partly set within the wall of the church.  I was impressed with modern technology when taking the picture below :) !  Cameras these days often have face recognition so that they automatically focus on the face if there is one in the picture.  Well, my camera automatically focussed on the effigy’s ’face’ even though it barely has one!

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The tomb

At another church just down the road, I noticed a strange sign!!  The church was locked but the sign indicates that the key is available in the porch of the farmhouse on the left……and promptly points to the right :) !

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How does that work – left, right??

During the afternoon, the route took me through the most delightful woodland which was beautifully brought alive by the afternoon sun.  All the trees were dressed in their brand new clothes and were stood on a lovely bluebell carpet.  It was a quite magic part of the walk!  Strangely, I fancy the carpet is not so blue as it usually is – perhaps it is because of too much rain and not enough sun!

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Spring greens on a carpet of blue

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A perfect place for a spring walk

Towards the end of the day, I passed another two tiny churches.  The first one, pictured below, was in a delightful little hamlet which was typically Dorset.  The second one was in reality only part of a church – just the chancel.  The rest of the church has long since disappeared!

Having looked around the outside of this second church, I decided to go in but the door was jammed and as I tried to push it open, a voice came from inside saying, ‘Hold on’!  Shortly after, a man opened the door for me.  At first I thought he was the cleaner but it turned out that he was in fact a homeless man who had lived, or rather slept, in that little church for 7 years!  Some might say that it was inappropriate for him to be there but he was doing no harm to either the church or anyone around – he was just using it as a night shelter.

He was another friendly individual who told me all about himself – both his parents had died 10 years earlier and it had sent him into a tailspin that resulted in his losing his home.  He talked about the difficulties and challenges of being homeless and the freedom that it brings too.  How the summer is easy once you get used to having no home base, but how winter is so difficult because of the cold.  He told me of winter nights when he just had to walk all night to keep warm!  He was in his sixties and now claiming a pension and the prospect of another winter sleeping rough at that age was not appealing!  In addition to that, he had that day lost his glasses so was unable to read – I felt for him!  One unusual thing about him was that he didn’t touch alcohol – he must be one of the few homeless people who don’t drown themselves in drink to help them cope with their lifestyle!  We chatted for quite some time – I think he was glad of the company – and he waved to me as I set off again down the trail.

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A little church in a Dorset hamlet

It was interesting, the total contrast in social status between the ‘Lady of the Manor’ and the homeless man, and perhaps just because of circumstance!  In my eyes, and God’s eyes, they are both equal and I enjoyed sharing part of my journey with each them.  Isn’t that what life is really about!  We rub shoulders with many different people on life’s journey – hopefully we leave a little something behind with each one as we travel.  These two certainly contributed to a memorable walk for me!

Thanks for reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler!

The Dorset Rambler

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To Spring!

7 May

Spring is such a great time of year, such a great time to be out in the fields, walking the countryside, leaning on a country gate now and then to take in the view.  To me, it seems a time of freedom, freedom from the ‘prison’ of the winter when doors and windows have to be closed to keep out the wind and the cold.  Freedom from the short days.  Freedom from layers of clothes.  Freedom from hibernation as everything comes to life again.  Spring is a time of new birth, new hopes, new expectations, a time for brushing off the cobwebs and for washing the sleepy dust from the eyes of life’s hibernation.

Isn’t that what creation does, to sweep away the gloom and deadness of winter, to wash everything down and give the countryside a lovely new and fresh coat of paint.  And for our enjoyment!  They say that autumn is the season of  ’mists and mellow fruitfulness – well Spring is the season of vibrant greens and yellow floweriness!  In the meadows, the wild flowers are blooming, dandelions and bluebells, wild garlic, primroses and cowslips, and there are even some ‘flying flowers’ – butterflies – to liven the scene up as they flit seemingly aimlessly from flower to flower!

Suddenly we hear the birds singing, the beautiful skylark often serenades me as I walk and at the end of the day the blackbird takes over.  It is the best sort of music ever!  And suddenly, the children are singing as they play outside again running through the long grass in the fields – don’t you just love the sound of children playing, its such a happy sound.  They are so free from cares and constraints and they have such wonder in everything they do.  It is such a shame that age robs us of some of that creative wonder of discovery, and such a shame too that often computer games rob children of that wonder so early in life!

When I was walking this week, the meadows were so beautiful and I wanted to capture something of the freshness and freedom of the spring.  The picture below is my feeble attempt at the impossible and as you look at it, imagine the sound of the skylarks and bees, the fresh smell of the grass, the babbling of the small brook that runs through the meadow, and the sound of happy and free children playing over the hill……..and wonder!

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The Spring Meadow

Thanks for stopping by and reading the ramblings of The Dorset Rambler.

The Dorset Rambler

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