Winter climbing on Brown Cove Crags

Last weekend, to take advantage of a week of cold, snowy weather across Northern Britain which had brought the Lake District into condition for winter climbing, I visited Brown Cove Crags with two friends.

Brown Cove Crags are on the North Eastern side of Helvellyn. The crags are high up but with uncommitting routes, and are just a short walk from the car park: the perfect venue for a short mid-winter day.

Brown Cove Crags from below

As we walked up, the crags emerged from the cloud. There was already a handful of climbers on the routes.We chose to try the most Northerly route on the crags: Two Grooves. At grade IV (6) we hoped that it would be quieter than the easier routes further along the crags. The route divides into two pitches, each with a groove to climb up.

Looking North from Brown Cove Crags

By the time we reached the start of the route the cloud had cleared. The clear air meant that there were extensive views across the Lake District, free from the haze that is often present on cloudless summer days.

Climber moving onto the crux of Two Grooves, Brown Cove Crags

The groove on the first pitch was covered with a deep layer of powder snow and the turf underneath was not yet frozen. The left face of the groove was iced up however, and using this ice and rock on the righthand side of the groove we were able to climb the pitch, only resorting to snow wading for last few metres.

There were a couple of climbers on the technical second pitch, so we did the obligatory jumping up-and-down to keep warm while we waited for them to finish.

Dave seconding Two Grooves - about to enter the crux groove

Neil led the second pitch, calmly making some tricky moves. Dave followed him up, and I followed close behind Dave, removing some of the pegs and gear that Neil had placed to protect himself. The difficulties began on entering the rocky groove, where I had to hook my tools on rock and find small foot placements to climb. Towards the top there was a featureless slab with a crack on one side that you could jam tools into. A couple of big pulls, hoping feet wouldn't slip, and I joined Neil and Dave at the top of the route.

The snow slope at the start of the second pitch was well consolidated, making for easy, satisfying climbing. Progress up the groove involved a series of rock hooks and bridging/backfooting. The rock faces and the cracks were iced up, rendering cams useless, and ice tools and crampons were essential for climbing.

Brown Cove Crags from the top of Two Grooves

From the top of Two Grooves, we could see that the rest of Brown Cove Crags was swarming with climbers - lots of people were making the most of the great conditions!

Sunset over the Lake District

To finish the day we walked from the top of Brown Cove Crags to Helvellyn, reaching the summit just as the sun was setting.There were large cornices on the Red Tarn face that would make the climbing routes up there more difficult, perhaps requiring some tunnelling at the top of the route, and also more dangerous, due to the possibility of avalanches.

Autumn in West Yorkshire

Fly Agaric (Amanita muscaria). Caley, near Otley, Yorkshire.

Almscliff: Leeds local crag

Almscliff

Almscliff, halfway between Leeds and Harrogate, is the most famous of Yorkshire's gritstone crags. It is a huge lump of high quality gritstone perched on top of a small hill, rising up over the flat surrounding landscape. This means that although the crag is small relative to the gritstone edges of the Peak District, it has climbable rock on all sides, which compares favourably with the single climbable aspect of many of the Peak edges. It also means that the crag is very exposed; you will definitely feel the wind on all but the calmest days.

Almscliff west face

On a dry and sunny saturday afternoon in October Almscliff was busy with climbers, walkers and casual visitors. In this photo a handful of walkers look on as a climber starts up Zig Zag, on the West Face.

Many of the climbing routes require good arm stamina - something that often catches out first time visitors to Almscliff (I write from experience). This is because the major faces are steep and much of the crag is undercut at the base, which requires some monkeying around, putting most of your body weight on your arms, to get started on the routes - as can be seen with climber in the photo above.

Great Western area, Almscliff

No climbers were tackling Great Western or the adjacent Crack of Doom, which are two of the most famous routes on the crag, despite the fact that the weather conditions were perfect and both routes were in the sunshine. Great Western goes up the large vertical crack in the middle of the photo, heads left along the break, and then finishes by going up and around the corner to the left. Crack of Doom follows the same vertical crack, then heads out right onto the projecting wall and a quick finish on top of the wall.

Almscliff is also home to lots of great bouldering problems, both on the main crag and on the boulders that are scattered around its base. Many of these problems are described in the Yorkshire Gritstone bouldering guide. The arete shown in the photo above is part of the Virgin group of boulders, and can be climbed with a bouldering grade of font 6a.

Matterhorn boulder

This is the Matterhorn Boulder. The prominent arete was first climbed over 100 years ago by Claude Benson. Today, the climb up the arete is worth font 4+; easy by modern standards.

The Crucifix, Almscliff

The distinctive cross-shaped pair of cracks can be climbed as a problem called The Crucifix. It is worth a grade of font 5. It is a long way to fall from the top of the vertical crack - padded mats and someone to spot you would be useful.

The Crucifix is part of the Demon Wall area of Almscliff, which is also home to several hard boulder problems - these tend to terminate 3-4 metres above the ground - and a handful of climbing routes that lead to the top of the crag. Numerous chalk marks on the rock show how popular this area of the crag is.

The location of Almscliff, and the large number of popular climbing routes and bouldering problems there, means that many of the key hand and foot holds are polished, so the famous gritstone friction is often lacking.  This doesn't appear to affect the quality of the routes much (apart from making them a bit harder!). It is certainly worth visiting Almscliff as an occasional treat, however, rather than an as a regular practice crag, to minimise further damage.

The Mamores: Ring of Steall

The Mamores are a range of mountains that lie South of Glen Nevis in the Lochaber region of Scotland. The range is dominated by a long ridge running East to West, with smaller ridges heading North from the main ridge. Two of these subsidiary ridges can be linked together via a stretch of the main ridge to make a fantastic circular walk called the "Ring of Steall" (after An Steall waterfall, which descends into Glen Nevis from the corrie that the Ring of Steall encircles).

Unlike some other of Scotland's great ridge walks (such as the Aonach Eagach, Liathach, and the Five Sisters of Kintail), the Ring of Steall is circular rather than point-to-point, so doesn't require two cars or a return walk along the road. It also crosses land which does not have access restrictions during the stalking season, when the weather in the Scottish Highlands is often at its best.

Although I have  walked extensively over the mountains and ridges of England and Wales, I have much less experience of walking in Scotland, where the mountains are bigger, the ridges narrower, and the routes longer and more committing. I decided to walk the Ring of Steall to get a taste of Scottish ridge walking, surrounded by some of the most dramatic and varied mountain scenery in the country.

There are a number of options to consider when attempting the Ring of Steall: clockwise or anti-clockwise? Quick brutal climb to the ridge or a longer, gentler ascent? Visit Munros off the main route (Stob Ban is a prime candidate)? I set out to do the route anti-clockwise starting with a short, steep climb to the ridge, and without any detours to visit extra Munros.

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Glen Nevis

Mid-september. I woke to a cool, clear morning at the Glen Nevis campsite, and, after a quick breakfast of cereal bars and coffee, drove up to the roadhead in Glen Nevis.

Nevis gorge

I followed a footpath through a wooded gorge along the River Nevis. The walls of the gorge have been carved into sinuous shapes by the river, and, lit by early morning sun, the gorge had an alpine feel to it.

Steall Falls and Glen Nevis

As I continued upstream, the gorge opened out into a flat, grassy glen with steep slopes on either side. An Steall, a huge waterfall that descends the side of the glen in a gentle curve, lay straight ahead, shaded by the peak of An Gearanach.

Steall wire bridge

I wanted to climb the steep wooded slopes on the south side of the glen, but to do so I needed to cross the River Nevis. Fortunately there is a bridge across the river that provides access to the Steall mountaineering hut near the base of the waterfall. The bridge consists of three wires - two for the hands, one for the feet - stretched tight across the river. I climbed on to the wires and edged a third of the way across. The anchors for the bridge are high on either bank; by the time you are out over the water, and the banks have fallen away, it feels like a long way up. The thin metal cord wobbled as my feet struggled to stay balanced. I began to speculate about the worst that could happen, despite having been in many more exposed situations, dangling in space on the end of a rope. I edged back to the start of the bridge, emptied my mind and hurried across.

Ben Nevis

From the bridge, I climbed straight up through the woods on the south side of the glen. As I waded through knee-high bracken my trousers became soaked with dew, and the boggy ground ensured that my boots were wet through. I passed the Steall hut and Steall Hut Crag, where  bolts, drilled into the rock and clipped with brightly coloured quickdraws, traced the lines of some of the hardest rock climbing routes in Scotland. Across the glen Ben Nevis was bathed in sunlight.

Sgurr a' Maim from the north

I emerged from the woods. Ahead lay Sgurr a' Maim, the first Munro of the day.The top is blocky grey quartzite, a rock which started out as sand, solidified into sandstone around half a billion years ago, and, subjected to heat and pressure during subsequent periods of mountain building, transformed into quartzite, a hard rock made of interlocking quartz crystals. I followed a faint path took me along a northerly spur of the mountain to the peak.

Stob Ban from Sgurr a' Maim

Sgurr a' Maim is a high point on one of the subsidiary ridges going north from the main Mamores ridge. Looking west from the top, I could see the rocky North face of Stob Ban, which is one of the peaks on the main Mamores ridge. For avid Munro baggers, Stob Ban is a short detour westwards once you reach the main ridge after descending from Sgurr an Lubair.

The Devil's Ridge

I descended to a col and then followed the Devil's Ridge to Sgurr an Lubair. The Devil's Ridge was narrow and rocky, but with a well-worn path that tempered the feeling of exposure. The views from the ridge were unsurpassed in every direction -  The great mass of Ben Nevis,  rocky tops of Glencoe and the Grey Corries, and, stretching away into the distance, the wild landscapes of the Inner Hebrides and Knoydart.

Mamores ridge

From Sgurr an Lubair I descended to join the main Mamores ridge and turned eastwards towards the next peak: Am Bodach, my second Munro of the day.  At this point the ridge was broad, grassy and lightly sprinkled with sharp, shattered, quartzite.

The Devil's Ridge and Sgurr a' Maim

Looking back from Am Bodach, I could see the Devil's ridge; a shallow-curved grey crest heading south from Sgurr a' Maim.

I startled a small flock of Ptarmigan on the slopes of Am Bodach. Chubby little birds in their grey-speckled summer plumage, they were well camouflaged amongst the quartzite scree and my -rather limited- camera on my phone was unable to photograph them clearly.

Ben Nevis capped with cloud

Ben Nevis had become capped in cloud like a gloomy cartoon. Big bad Ben indeed.

An Garbhanach from Am Bodach

I continued along the Mamores ridge, which, although steep and rocky, remained reassuringly broad. I crossed the peak of Am Bodach and climbed Stob Coire a' Chairn, the third Munro of the day. An Garbhanach and An Gearanach (the fourth Munro) lay ahead of me, connected by a narrow ridge. It had been a roller coaster walk from the wire bridge to Stob Coire a' Chairn - steep climbs followed by steep descents, all under the hot sun, had sapped me of energy, so I stopped to eat a handful of nuts and some oatcakes.  Up to this point I had seen a few people, all walking in the same direction as me, and though they offered polite hellos, it was obvious that they were keen to keep walking rather than stop and chat. In contrast Stob Coire a' Chairn was crowded with people relaxing in the sunshine. One couple told me that they hoped to enjoy a beautiful sunset on Sgurr a' Maim, but were concerned about dusk arriving before they had negotiated the Devil's Ridge.  I wished them luck.

Ridge connecting An Garbhanach and An Gearanach

The ridge between An Garbhanach and An Gearanach presents two options: a gentle scramble along the top of the ridge, or a footpath a few metres below. I followed the top of the ridge and enjoyed picking my way through the blocks and spikes of the crest, with a few hands-on moments to make things exciting. It was the most technical and exposed part of the route, with serious drops either side; I found it similar to, but longer than, the Y Gribin ridge above Cwm Idwal in North Wales.

Crampon scratches on An Gearanach ridge

The rocks on the ridge were deeply scratched by ice axes and and crampons. The previous two winters had been cold and snowy; under such conditions the Ring of Steall would have made a perfect winter day out for experienced and energetic parties.

Looking back to the Ring of Steall

Looking back from An Gearanach I could see the corrie that my route had circled. The landscape was tinted with the browns of the coming autumn.

At the base of An Steall

A steep descent from An Gearanach brought me to the base of  An Steall waterfall. Attempting to descend directly adjacent to the falls is best avoided - accidents have happened here. Instead I aimed for the corrie to the east of An Gearanach, where there is a good stalkers path, before turning westwards along the bottom of the glen to pass beneath the falls. At the base of the falls I tried in vain to find somewhere with enough dry rocks to hop across the stream on. After 10 minutes of searching I resigned myself to wading across. With trousers rolled to my knees and boots on to protect my feet from the sharp rocks on the stream bed, I plunged into the stream. The cold water flowed over the tops of my boots, refreshing my tired feet. Worth staying in for a little paddle, or continue the journey? Eventually I scrambled up the bank and followed a path back to the the wire bridge.

Scots Pine in Nevis gorge

Back over the bridge, a short walk through the Glen Nevis woods, and I was back to my car. Perfect weather, rocky peaks and airy ridges made this a day that I will remember for a long time. Indeed, the Ring of Steall, when the weather conditions are favourable (summer or winter), is probably one of the best days out the keen walker can have in Scotland.

A circuit of Kinder from Hayfield

Yesterday the weather prospects look good, so I set out to experience a national park that I am not very familiar with: the Peak District.

Located  close to the centre of England, the Peak District is within easy reach of a number of conurbations - for me, a short drive down the motorway from Leeds.  It has a varied landscape caused by variation in the type of the underlying rock. The Dark Peak has a gritstone geology that features bleak moorland plateaux and lengthy edges of exposed gritstone. In the more southerly White Peak the dominant rock type is limestone, a permeable rock, which has produced a contrasting landscape with dry river valleys, caves and a 'Dales' feel.

I planned to walk a circular route that would take me up onto  Kinder Scout, a moorland plateau in the Dark Peak, and the highest point in the Peak District.

Snake Path sign, Hayfield

I parked in Hayfield, and left the village along the Snake path, which leads up onto the Kinder plateau. The path eventually leads to the Snake Inn,  which is located in the Woodlands valley, north of Kinder.

Looking down on Hayfield from the moors

 As I looked back down the path Hayfield lay beneath me in a wooded valley, surrounded by heather-covered uplands.

Sign on the Snake Path

I left enclosed farmland behind as the Snake Path took me up onto open moorland, where I came across this sign, dating from 1905, that warned against trespass. Kinder Scout has long been symbolic in the fight for the right for people to access open land.  In 1932 it was the site of a mass trespass, with walkers confronting game keepers about the right to be there. This action was a key part of the fight that led to a Government Act that enshrined in law free access to open land in England and Wales.

Kinder Resevoir

I followed the Snake Path up William Clough to the Kinder Plateau, passing Kinder Resevoir on the way.

Sculpted gritstone boulders, Kinder plateau

At the top of William Clough, the Snake Path crossed the  Pennine Way, which I joined to go Southwards across the Kinder Plateau. I passed some large, sculpted, gritstone boulders. What had given them such flowing shapes - were they to high and exposed to be shaped by water flow? Could it have been the action of the wind?

Trig point, Kinder plateau

I left the pennine way to visit a trig point on an unnamed high spot. Getting there involved crossing open moorland and peat hags. The trig point stood on a rough concrete pedestal. Presumably when the trig point was built the concrete pedestal was actually a foundation laid within the peat. It appears that since construction the peat has been eroded away, leaving the foundation standing proud from the remaining sandy subsoil. Was this erosion caused by the action of thousands of feet, or by the elements?

A dry Kinder Downfall

I rejoined the Pennine Way and continued southwards to Kinder Downfall. Lying in the centre of a bowl of dark gritsone cliffs, this is where the Kinder river descends from the plateau over a series of gritstone ledges.  It was only a mid-summer trickle, but would be more dramatic when the river is in spate, or perhaps frozen.

Pennine way heading looking to Kinder Downfall

I continued southwards along the Pennine way, which follows the western edge of the Kinder plateau for several kilometres. This was a well trodden path with a solid rock base; quite a different experience to negotiating numerous peat hags on the open moorland.

Eroded landscape of Kinder Low

I reached another trig point, on the (named) summit Kinder Low. This time I was sure that the peat had been stripped back to the underlying sand by thousands of feet. Although this was a summit, it didn't feel like it because the ground curved away from the high point so gently, giving the allusion that I was standing on a plain. Where was the feeling of exposure and height, of excitement and achievement? At this point naming the area the Peak District (and, indeed, calling Kinder Scout area the 'high peak'), seemed like false advertising.

Kinderlow End

I descended via the spur of Kinderlow End towards Hayfield (shown above), feeling slightly underwhelmed by the Dark Peak experience. Would I be back? I'm not sure. Perhaps the area is more exciting under less favourable conditions; a bit of fog, perhaps a bit of snow. Or maybe gritstone, which makes the Dark Peak such a good location for rock climbing, produces a landscape that is to bleak for exciting, varied, walks?

Places to climb in North Wales when the weather is dodgy (I) - the Dinorwig slate quarry

North Wales has a huge variety of locations and different rock types to climb; from sea cliff to mountain crag; from slate, to limestone, to rhyolite.

Wind, rain, and changing weather conditions can make it difficult to find good climbing on any given day. I find this especially frustrating on short visits when I want to make the most of limited time.

When the conditions are unsettled (intermittent rain, damp, but not torrential downpours across the whole region, when the best option is to stay indoors, or go to the zoo!), I have found that the range of locations and rock types in the region mean that it is often possible to find somewhere in good condition for climbing, and somewhere I won't feel out of my depth if weather conditions change suddenly.

Australia, Dinorwig

The Dinorwig quarry is a huge old slate workings in the hillside near Llanberis. Slate was quarried here for over a hundred years, although production ceased in the middle of the last century. Parts of the quarry are now used for hydroelectricity generation, and it has had occasional film roles when a forboding location was needed.

From the main road into Llanberis the quarry look dark and menacing, but up close it is more inviting.  It is warm and sheltered, the rock is clean and solid, and plants have gained a foothold, bringing the place to life. There is also a lot of rusting industrial equipment, some tunnels, and derelict buildings that add to the atmosphere and highlight the human origins of the place.

The Sidings area, Dinorwig

I took the above photo one morning after a rainy night - many climbers had come to the quarry to take advantage of the conditions there. Slate dries quickly, there is minimal seepage, and some aspects of the quarries are in the sun for most of the day. Combined with the facts that the quarry is terraced, which provides a series of broad ledges and short single pitch routes, and many routes are a short walk from the car park or bus stop, this a great climbing location after a rainy spell. If the rain comes back, I can quickly get back to the car, head into Llanberis, drink tea, and wait for the rain to stop.

There are lots of the routes in the quarry, from low grade sport climbs to hard trad routes, providing something for everyone. Many of the routes, including some of the trad routes, are bolt protected, so it possible to make a quick dash into the quarry, and out again if needed, carrying a minimal rack.

Horse Chestnut trees and their insect guests

This is a leaf from a horse chestnut (conker) tree. Although native to Southern Europe the species is common in the UK, especially in parks and hedgerows, where they provide children with an easy source of conkers each autumn.

The patches on the leaf are cavities caused by the leaf mining moth Cameraria ohridella. Moth larvae live in the cavities between the outer layers of the leaf, where they feed on sap in the leaf veins. By late summer the majority of horse chestnut leaves will be brown, making it look like autumn has arrived early, at least for horse chestnuts. If you come across a horse chestnut tree in your local park or hedgerow, it will probably been infested with leaf miner, and the patches will be visible from some distance away! The adult moth, which is free-flying, is relatively a non-discript stripy brown colour, much less noticable than the leaf mines.

The moth started spreading from its original home in Macedonia in 1989, and is now widespread throughout Europe. It reached the UK in 2002.  Now it is rare to find a horse chestnut in the UK whose leaves are not curling and brown from leaf miner damage by the end of the summer. The health of infested trees is not affected (although they do tend to produce smaller conkers), which is good news - other invasive tree infestations, such as the fungus that causes Dutch Elm disease, have changed the landscape of the UK,  and because horse chestnuts are big trees that often found in prominent locations, the loss of this species would change the landscape substantially.

Lots of other plants are affected by leaf miners, which are easy to spot by looking for swirling blistered/discoloured patches on leaves.

Caley bouldering

It was a beautiful evening; sunny, clear, but still cool and with a slight breeze. These are good conditions for bouldering, where the aim is to climb short 'problems' on cliffs and boulders, using a crash mat to land on when you fall. 20 minutes north of Leeds, outside the town of Otley, is  Caley - a popular bouldering venue that has lots of problems described in guidebooks. After finishing work I headed to Caley for the evening.

Oak tree, Caley

Caley is a wooded hillside that has gritstone boulders and small cliffs scattered across it. In the woods there were foxgloves and bilberries covering the ground (along with the ubiquitous bracken), and the trees were predominantly birch and oak, with a few other species mixed in. Some of the oaks, like the one in this photo, had the space to grow broad, spreading canopies that give an ancient woodland feel.

Flapjack boulder, Caley

Among the trees I found my first boulder. It was The Flapjack, which was a good boulder to get started on; it had some easy problems - in the font 3+-5+ range, and it was not very high, so I would not fall far. Judging by the chalk marks, plenty of people have had the same idea.

Cream eggs boulders, Caley

Next, The Cream Eggs. This is a pair of steeper boulders with smooth sides and sharp corners that provide some challenging problems. I repeatedly fell off the chalky corner that has my bag underneath in the photo above, eventually admitting defeat. The corner has a grade of font 6a+.

The Chicken Run boulder, Caley

 Breaking from the snack theme, this boulder is The Chicken Run. It had some short, fun problems that I finished the evening on.The problem that goes up the corner of The Chicken Run is one of the few easier problems at Caley that has been given a name - it is called Cold Turkey - and has a grade of font 5+.

Almscliff

Nursing sore fingers and ready for dinner, I set off home. I emerged from the woodland to blue skies and views across the valley. The small hill on horizon is Almscliff, a famous Yorkshire climbing and bouldering venue.

The North York Moors: Goathland, Falling Foss and Fylingdales

To celebrate mid-summer I visited the North York Moors. The North York Moors are a national park in the north east corner of Yorkshire; primarily a heathery, upland plateau, the park extends to the North Sea coast around Whitby. Much of the park is open access land,  where one has the freedom to wander away from paths and rights of way.

I arrived in the village of Goathland early in the morning, having driven over the mist-covered moors from Leeds, with the intention of following a route over moorland to the East and South of Goathland.

Goathland Station

I started my walk from the station in Goathland. It is part of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway, which is a heritage steam railway that runs north-south through the moors. The station recreates railway stations from decades ago, but it was still early so there were no trains to complete the picture.

Moor above Goathland

My route took me North Eastwards across Goathland Moor. This was my first experience of the heather-covered plateau. The lack of trees and deep greens and browns of the heather gave the moor a bleak, gloomy feel. The morning mist was clearing, however, and there was even a patch of blue sky - things were looking up!

Cross-leaved heather in flower

I found some early-flowering heather in a sheltered spot. The bright purple clusters contrasted with the dark foliage. It will be worth coming back later in the summer, when the majority of the heather is in flower, to see the moor blanketed purple. The heather was a mix of Calluna and Erica species, which occur in such abundance because the moor is managed to provide good habitat for red grouse that need young heather shoots to feed on and older heather to hide in.

Red grouse are regarded as the prince of gamebirds and people pay a lot of money to shoot them, making an important contribution to the local economy. It is an awkward bird to manage though - it suffers from predators, and especially parasites, which can severely affect grouse numbers. Also, birds cannot be reared in captivity then released to augment wild populations. End result: huge expanses of heather moorland that are carefully managed for grouse production across Northern England, Scotland and Wales.

Old-fashioned pylon

I crossed a road and continued east across the moor. The major vertical features on the moor were a line of pylons heading north to Whitby. The pylons were an old, elegant design, with patches of rust emphasising their age.

North York Moors dry stone wall

Moorland was separated from lower level farmland by a dry stone wall. I followed it southwards to a bridleway that led across the farmland.

Young cattle

The farmland was used for grazing. In one field nervous young cows followed me as I passed.

Dog rose

As I crossed the farmland there were dog roses flowering in the hedgerows, along with plenty of honeysuckle. I could smell both species from some distance away!

Falling Foss

The bridleway entered a wooded valley, which led to Falling Foss. Although the stream feeding the falls was small, it went over a long drop, and with the sunlight making the water sparkle it was a dramatic sight. I stopped at the tea room by the falls and the meagre change I had left over from paying the parking fee in Goathland was just enough for tea and cake.

Lone pine tree on the moorland

Much refreshed, I walked Southwards upstream until the woods became thinner, and after a short climb I was back on moorland. A lone tree stood sentry - it is probably an escapee from a nearby Forestry Commission plantation, which I intended to skirt around next.

Felled plantation

It was a mature plantation and some areas had been felled. Dark, featureless plantation does not look good, but the felled land looked worse. The Forestry Commission is more enlightened these days, so hopefully they will replant with some attractive and ecologically interesting native species.

Cotton grass, growing in a hollow

After a couple of miles of walking Southwards across moorland I came across a patch of cotton grass in a dip. The tufts at the top of each stem were windblown.

Louven Howe

Looking across the North York Moors

Continuing South, I reached the high point of the moor - Louven Howe. Great views all around, especially as the weather had continued to improve. The view in one direction was dominated by RAF Fylingdales, whose land I would pass through next...

Fylingdales warning sign

RAF Fylingdales is a ballistic missile warning station - it has a big radar array that rises pyramid-like from the moor, which is visible for miles around. During the Cold War the base was responsible for spotting missiles that would have initiated a '4 minute warning' had the Soviets launched a nuclear attack. Now it is part of the U.S.A missile defence shield. As such they are a bit touchy about security - there are signs up outlining what you can and can't do, which included taking photos of the base from controlled land that I was on. The sign above, however, is apparently a fraud, and after a moments pause I dismissed it and carried on my way.

It was interesting to see that close to the base, where I guess there hasn't been grazing and heather management for grouse, scrub and small trees were starting to cover the moorland. Left long enough without human intervention, presumably the whole moor would go the same way.

Rail bridge, North York Moors Railway

After a couple of miles stomping through heather, I reached the main road over the moor. This was the same road I had used to drive to Goathland in the morning, when it had been shrouded in mist . I had to follow the road for a mile, and it was busy, so I was frequently jumping onto the verge as traffic passed in both directions. Eventually the road brought me to the North York Moors Railway line, which I passed under, and then I followed a bridleway back into Goathland.

Sheep grazing the lawn, Goathland

The biggest disappointment about Goathland? Plenty of sheep, but no goats. Mis-selling was a theme of the village - a few of the shops had signs such as 'Grocer' and 'General Store', which I went into to try and buy a drink, only to find shelves of souvenirs but no groceries.