North and south hills

28 November: Meall Tuath and Meall Deas are the rocky hills (or possibly “lumps”) which overlook Rubha Hunish, Skye’s northern tip. I was here in the summer, scrambling down the cliff-face to reach that grass-topped rocky tongue of land. Today, we’ll be content to take in the vista from these superb viewpoints. On Meall Tuath, there’s a former coastguard lookout, now equipped as a mountain bothy – could be a great place to spend a short midsummer night, but not in late November. Once again, we’re on our own out here – apart from the sheep and the seabirds – and golden eagles. There were two or three above us as we parked the car, gone by the time we were out – but then, as we made our way along the path, there was another. A grab shot will have to suffice for illustration – they may be big, but they’re hard to find in the viewfinder on maximum zoom, and they don’t exactly pose. A great sight on our last day out up here – soon we’ll be heading south, with fingers crossed for weather and traffic…

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Quiraing

27 November: It’s one of the most spectacular landscapes in the British Isles – and the path to the Quiraing from the top of the pass, between Uig and Staffin, is one of the most enjoyable. Its popularity makes the first part of this walk difficult in summer – largely because it’s almost impossible to find anywhere to park. But on a Sunday morning at the end of November, even with such amazingly good weather, there are just six other cars. I’ll meet other walkers along the way, but it is truly quiet here today. The only sound for much of the time is that of the waves breaking on the shore at Staffin, perhaps a mile and a half distant.

The last few times I’ve walked along the path below the Quiraing, I’ve been with others who wouldn’t be persuaded to scramble up into the rocky stronghold, but today I’m alone, so it’s up the steep crumbling slope, behind the needle, through the cleft and onto the table, a remarkable small grassy  plateau completely enclosed by the crags. A couple of young walkers are here (one is a “Staffinite”, according to his companion), enjoying the photographic opportunities, but I get the impression that many, if not most, casual visitors give this part of the walk a miss.

The descent back to the contouring path is possibly more difficult than the ascent, but I’m down again, walking on towards Sròn Vourlinn (yes, we were here in August, on the path from Flodigarry) – and I discover the downside to November exploration. I knew that the early sunset would limit my time up here, but hadn’t thought about the effect of the sun’s low angle – much of the path beyond the Quiraing is in deep cold shade. It’s worth it for the additional views that open out eventually – to the north and west, where Lewis and Harris are prominent across the Minch. Can’t afford to hang about though – I’d better get back… What a great day it’s been!

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December days on the Mynd

The days are really short now – just two weeks to the solstice. We’ll need to finish this walk before the sun sets – preferably an hour or so earlier, to give us time to enjoy the benefits of the tea room in the Carding Mill valley. It’s not cold today, though there’s a stiff breeze on top – it’s not easy holding the camera still for those long shots, but worth the effort (I think so, anyway) for those fading-distance views. To the south-west, the Black Mountains are anything but black – Pinky-Yellow Mountains? Perhaps not. Despite the breeze, it’s one of those afternoons when it would be good to stay up here indefinitely – but cake awaits! Come on!

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Reieval

Skye: 24 November: Poor thing! With a summit just 299m above sea level, it seems to be classified as a “tump” (whatever that may be). Classification notwithstanding, it’s a hill, and a very pleasant one too on this fine afternoon. I’ve walked down the road from Linicro, and followed a track up from the Totescore road end. There’s no-one else here (and precious few sheep) – it’s quiet, really quiet, and most enjoyable. Descending, I join the road from Staffin towards Uig, where the ferry is loading, before turning back along the main road above the bay.

The waterworks road

Weds 23rd, afternoon: That’s exactly what it is –  a rough-surfaced road to the little cluster of buildings on the spring line, providing a quick route to a quiet, empty hillside. Beyond, we follow the route of an old road which must once have served a long-vanished settlement to the east of Kilvaxter, north of Uig on Skye’s Trotternish peninsula. We’ll return via Kilmuir’s village hall, along the single-track A855, which is quieter than many a country lane on this November afternoon. There wasn’t time for anything more – the sun’s already setting behind Waternish.

Coalport on a grey afternoon…

…so we’ll do it in black and white! It’s a pleasant circuit, down to Jackfield by hidden paths in the jungle, then across to Coalport and along the old railway track to Coalport bridge. We cross the Severn again and walk along the other old railway, before joining Pound Lane and heading for home.

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November on Clee Burf

There’s a stiff breeze, but it’s too good to stay in – we’ll walk up to Clee Burf, the southern summit of Brown Clee. Apart from the wind in the trees, it’s quiet up here. There’s no-one else about, apart from a solitary jogger, who doesn’t look happy. No shortage of sheep, of course. The forecast suggested there could be the odd shower, but we’re lucky today – bright sunshine throughout. There’s a big shower cloud to the north, and another, nearer, provides us with an unexpected rainbow. The end of it is just over there – no crocks though, just another sheep – taking on an appropriately golden tint in the late afternoon sunshine.

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Wellington’s Hill

The Shropshire Hills AONB is almost entirely south of the Severn – just one little bit spills over to the other side, almost to Wellington, to encompass the Wrekin, which in many ways is Wellington’s own hill. The first stretch from the Forest Glen can be busy (that’s a relative term, of course), and the summit was positively heaving – there must have been four other people there, plus two dogs. Most visitors seem to turn here and return the way they’ve come. Beyond lie the rocks (notable for the Needle’s Eye, which one must thread at least once in a lifetime) – and a different feel altogether. That’s perhaps because of the views – the ground drops away sharply, and the panorama in the south-westerly quarter is spectacular, especially on an afternoon like this. Unusually, the strong directional sunshine lasted while I stayed on top – the clouds gathered as I returned along the quiet woodland paths on the north-western flank. Did a few snowflakes drift gently down, or was I imagining things? It was certainly cold enough.

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Grandstand

The Hope Bowdler hills are not the highest  in Shropshire, but later in the afternoon, at this time of year, they provide one of the most spectacular viewpoints for the border country. Beyond the numerous ridges, picked out in the golden light, our south-western horizon is filled by the broad table of Radnor Forest. We have to feel sorry for all the others – those who weren’t up there. We only saw three people, and one of them, a runner, didn’t really seem to be paying much attention (What is this life if, full of care…). There are one or two showers about; happily, they pass us by. It’s not all good – there’s a biting breeze, and the temperature is dropping quickly as the sun nears the horizon. We’re almost glad to get back to the car.

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To Fairoak Pools

Early November in Staffordshire: it’s cold but it’s sunny, and there’s little wind – Cannock Chase could be good, we can have bacon rolls* for lunch at the visitor centre… We’re ringing the changes slightly – starting from one of our usual spots, we’re taking in a detour to Fairoak Pools – they look good on the map, and we can loop around them. They’re man-made – dammed, in other words – but they’re very attractive in the sunshine, the autumn leaves of birches and oaks contrasting with the dark pine forests beyond. After lunch, tall beeches glow beside the track as we head back towards the car; in the last half-mile, we look out past silver birch trunks to the grassy plateau beyond. “There could be lions” says my wife, just as the word “savanna” pops into my mind.

* We were too late. They don’t serve breakfast items after 1pm. (Have they been raided by the diet police?) The wraps and rolls, it has to be said, were pretty good, but not the same…

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