Making the most of a bright sunny afternoon (while trying to avoid the worst of the mud…).
Late light…
…at Blists Hill
An hour or so towards the end of the afternoon, when the sky had cleared (and the temperature had dropped).
After the rain – Sher Brook and the Tackeroo
After yesterday’s torrents, today would be bright and sunny – until mid-afternoon. More rain was forecast, coming from the south-west. We’d better head north-east to make the most of it – somewhere that perhaps wouldn’t be too bad underfoot. So it proved, despite the path down to the valley being a stream. Most of the water had behaved reasonably well, even the large puddles here and there could be circumnavigated easily. None of that deep sloppy mud we’d struggled with around Croft Ambrey…
We’d been up here a few weeks ago, so we planned a circuit mostly to the south of our earlier route, though there is some overlap. Again, we walked anti-clockwise – down beside the brook – this time on the opposite bank – then back up to the plateau, returning to the car mostly along the trackbed of the “Tackeroo railway”, the military railway built to serve the camps up here during the first world war. The sun had behaved quite well too, disappearing finally behind the advancing clouds as we set off home, the first spots of rain falling not many minutes later.
Tackeroo – The Military Railway on Chasewater Stuff’s Railway & Canal Blog
A quick look at the NRM
Just published to “Geoff’s Rail Diaries“: “NRM“, an illustrated (brief) account of Friday’s trip to the National Railway Museum in York.
Last gasp…
With high winds and rain forecast over the next few days, this afternoon may have been the last chance for the autumn leaves… A local wander, no need to start the car.
NRM
Last time I paid a visit was more than 20 years ago – it’s changed a bit over the years. I’d rather hoped to see the streamlined “Duchess of Hamilton”. I saw it (her?) in the workshop, behind Flying Scotsman, apparently being prepared for a trip to Shildon. Not exactly ideal for a photograph.
I also wondered if I might see the two A4s, temporarily repatriated from across the Atlantic. No chance! One (60010 “Dominion of Canada”) is in Shildon (I was told); a tiny part of the other, outside, could just be seen through a window – “DWI….”. (enough to rule off no. 60008 in my “combined” – except that I gave up on the numbers in 1968 – but not enough for a photo)*.
I’ll put together a selection of photos on a “Rail Diaries” page; in the meantime, here are a few tasters…
*For the uninitiated: 60008 bears the name “DWIGHT D EISENHOWER” – which may explain why it survived into transatlantic preservation.
The Peckett “Teddy” (2012 of 1941), illustrated above, is one of the smallest standard gauge locomotives ever built. It used to live at Cadeby Rectory, home of the eponymous light railway and Rev W. Awdry’s friend the “fat clergyman”, Teddy Boston (hence the name)
Ripon and Sutton Bank
A day out in Yorkshire: not a photographic outing, just a wander around Ripon on market day, and later, a walk along the top of the cliff at Sutton Bank as the sun lowered
Croft Ambrey
Great views and mud…
The sky was clear and blue, the air cold. The forecast suggested south might be best – it was certainly good. The views from up here are extensive; conditions underfoot are not always so great. There were lots of cars in the Croft Castle car park when we arrived at mid-day – a cross-country run was just ending. Hundreds of feet pounding the ground as the morning’s frost thawed – and of course their route was ours, as far as Croft Ambrey hill fort. It hadn’t been too bad across the field, past the old chestnuts, but it was getting rather sticky in the woods. When the runners’ tracks appeared to go over the fence to the hill fort, we kept straight on. Conditions underfoot seemed to improve – only to deteriorate to serious deep mud further on (only one photo from that stretch – it was all we could do, at times, to stay on our feet. One of us didn’t…).
The mud ends as the path enters the open grassland of Bircher Common. We took the long – and scenic – route around the common, down the delightful track between Oaker Coppice and Bircher Coppice, where the beech leaves glowed in the sunshine. The common’s western edge meets the woodland of Fishpool Valley, and a short walk through the trees back to the car.
Last of the light…
…on Hope Bowdler Hill
We were a bit later setting out than intended – but this one was just right for the time remaining. It’s that time of year again – the clocks have gone back, and the sun’s setting around 4.30pm. As a result, it was still bright – broad daylight – when we left the car, but the sun was lowering rapidly ahead as we headed back along the humpy ridge of the hill.
Hope Bowdler Hill isn’t high – a whisker under 1400′ – but it’s a great viewpoint, with the 2000′ Radnor Forest clear on the horizon to the south-west, some 25 miles away. The TV mast is just visible on Black Mixen, but other than the much closer mast on Hazler Hill, and scattered farms, man-made objects are not prominent in the views to the south. What really catches the eye on an afternoon like this is the pattern of ridges, one after another, receding and fading into the distance. But the sun is setting, and it’s too cold (a biting wind) to stay still for long.
On Cannock Chase
A dry day – and lots of sunshine at home. The forecast suggested it might get cloudier later, perhaps the chance of a shower to the north-west – we’d better head eastwards.
The sunshine had already gone when we left home – might it shine again later? Inevitably, it waited until we were well into the forest, clouding up again as we emerged from the trees and headed towards the “glacial boulder” prominently marked on the 1:25,000. Some fitful sunshine made the birches glow, before it disappeared altogether…
We walked this route almost exactly a year ago (see Cannock Chase) – this time, we walked anti-clockwise…
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