Skyhill

A walk for Alexander.

Tuesday, 18 December, 2012

 

    On Monday we decided not to walk this week.  Dorothy has a chesty cold and I am in a state of pre-Christmas panic.  However . . . my decision to stay at home and get ready for Christmas was overruled by Tim on Tuesday morning.  He said that Alexander needed a walk.  It transpired later that Tim had forgotten that Timothy was arriving this Friday  He thought there was another week before it all kicked off!  Only a man could be so blissfully unaware of Christmas looming.

 

    I felt bad about not trying to contact Trevor but it was rather late when we decided to go out and we were only planning a short walk - through Skyhill plantation and then up the Millennium Way and back down into the glen.  

 

    I stopped at the edge of the plantation to take some photos of Ramsey, framed by a couple of birches.

 

And then stopped for a rest up on the Millennium way near Skyhill Farm to photograph my favourite Scots pines and got a bit carried away by the sky and the clouds.

I was getting ready to photograph the clouds reflected in this puddle when some other reflections suddenly arrived.

 

There was hardly any wind so I started thinking about reflections on the dubs and persuaded Tim that we should take a detour along the wall towards the Neary and then follow the sheep path to the dubs.  I thought it would be easier for Alexander than the direct route from the Millennium Way to the dubs, through thick heather.  Well, Alexander was happy but Tim wasn't too thrilled by the condition of the path from the Neary.  We couldn't decide whether it was a path or a shallow stream or a long, thin puddle.  We ended up walking through the heather at the side of the "path".  It was quite heavy going.

My socks were damp from the wet heather before we reached the dubs and they got even wetter when I got rather too enthusiastic about finding the best spots to take photos and tried to pick my way through the boggy area around the dubs.  Tim stayed at a safe distance and took this photo of me (which, for some obscure reason changed colour when it was transferred to the blog.  Perhaps Picasa thought the original was too dark and gloomy).

 

I was still a bit obsessed by clouds and reflections  First I got this shot of Snaefell . . .

 

. . . and then, while I was  trying to balance on top of a clump of heather to take this shot of cloud reflections, my foot slipped and I felt an ominous trickle of cold water running down into my boot. 

After leaving the dubs we ran out of sheep paths and Tim decided to carry Alexander.

    We passed quite close to the ponies that we saw from the North Barrule ridge last week.  They appeared to think that we might be bringing them food.  We didn't want to raise their hopes and then disappoint them so we turned off down the hill before we reached them.  Alexander was very relieved.  I wonder whether they are the same ponies that used to graze in the Corrany Valley.

 

Then we squelched our way home.  There wasn't much else of interest apart from a new "bridge" across the stream near the pool at the old quarry.  Someone has put a couple of sleepers across the stream.  We didn't go up to the pool but I crossed the "bridge" to take this photo.  The sleepers felt quite secure and the surface of the wood wasn't slippery (yet) but there is nothing to anchor them in place apart from their weight.  I wonder whether they will survive if the stream floods.

Happy Christmas and all that!

North Barrule

A clean boot walk . . . all the mud was frozen!

Monday 10th December 2012

 

    It was a frosty morning, only a couple of degrees above zero when we left home.  Gloves were essential and I decided to wear my trapper hat.  The forecast had been for light winds and a sunny day - so we planned another assault on the North Barrule ridge. 

 

    When we reached the parking place by the marshals' hut on the east side of Snaefell, the sun was shining but the temperature reading on the car was down to zero.  This shelter for the TT marshals is called Black Hut even though it is not black.  In the past there was a wooden hut here which had been painted with creosote.  The black hut was demolished years ago but the name remains. 

 

    We crossed the road, left the sunshine, and climbed up the even colder, shady side Clagh Ouyr.  The ground was frozen hard and there was thick ice on the puddles so we spent most of the time looking at the ground trying to find the safest places to walk.  My metal walking "stick" wasn't as much help as usual on the slippery surface because the spike couldn't stick into the frozen ground. 

 

    We stopped occasionally for a short rest, or to take photos, or to admire the view.  Tim took this photo of Dorothy with sunny Snaefell in the background . . .

. . . and the next one of the steep climb up Clagh Ouyr.

 

And I took this one near the top of the hill as we emerged from the shadow of the hill into the bright sunshine.

 

Danny didn't seem to mind the cold.  He enjoyed the walk - as usual - and was very interested in this small cairn.  There are a number of cairns on the tops of the little hills along the ridge.  I think they may mark the boundary between Lezayre and Maughold parishes.

Tim said I should call Danny and get him to walk across this frozen dub - but he is a wise old dog and must have suspected our motives because he kept well away from the ice.  He had been happy to walk along the icy boardwalk across the bog but that was reasonably safe because the icy wood was covered with wire mesh.  The older bit of boardwalk without wire was covered in ice and was absolutely lethal so we had to walk over the semi-frozen bog until we reached the newer section.

I fell behind the others after stopping to take photos but Danny waited for me on this icy stile.  He was looking through the bars when I first saw him but he moved before I got my camera ready.  I asked him to do it again but he refused.

The sun was shining everywhere except on the western slopes of the hills . . .  and Glen Auldyn, which was still in the shadow of North Barrule.  In midwinter, our house doesn't see the sun until about eleven o'clock and even then the sun just seems to bob along the horizon just above the hills for a couple of hours before disappearing behind Skyhill.  The hills which block the sun do have their uses though because we are protected from the wind.  Taking wind-chill into consideration, we are probably no colder than the sunny areas on the northern plain - we may even be warmer on really windy days.

We stopped for coffee at the top of the main North Barrule peak and Tim took the obligatory photo of Ramsey.

 

Then we all managed to survive the return journey.  I suggested to Dorothy that in future we could leave one car at Mountain Box and avoid the long slog up Clagh Ouyr towards the end of the walk . . . but she said that would be cheating!

 

Sulby Glen

An "interesting" walk - but not very photogenic.

Monday 3rd December, 2012

 

We set off on Monday with a reluctant dog.  Alexander hinted that he would prefer to relax in a warm house instead of supervising our walk.  He sat outside the front door for some time, in a rather pointed way, before grudgingly strolling down to the car.  Apparently he thinks winter walks over water-logged hillsides are an overrated past-time . . . but he did seem to enjoy the outing (apart from the short walk along the tarred road at the end.) 

 

We walked in Sulby Glen again.  This time we climbed up the wooded east side of the glen.  The trees are bare now.

When we had climbed above the trees we could see across the glen to a patch of early sunlight on the plantation.  Most of the glen was still in the shadows.  It takes some time before the sun emerges above the hills at this time of year and some north-facing slopes don't see the sun at all for a few months.

We stopped to take photos of the old farmhouse and buildings at Tholt-y-Will farm, on the lower slopes of Snaefell.

 

The interior of the farmhouse.  This must have been the living room end of the house, with a smaller fireplace above for an upstairs bedroom. 

The view from the front of the house.  The old hawthorns are covered with lichen.

 

 

After exploring the ruins of the old farm, we headed uphill through the forestry land, following sheep paths and picking our way between the trees and around patches of gorse until we reached the Millennium Way and turned north.

 

We followed the Millennium Way towards the Block Eary stream in the valley between Snaefell and Slieau Managh.  Luckily the bridge was still there because it has been washed away in previous floods.  But we could see from the bits of grass and debris between the slats that the water level must have risen above the bridge at times recently.

Then we followed the Millennium Way past the mounds, which are all that remains of temporary medieval huts used during summer when animals grazed up in the hills, and up the other side of the valley.  The sun was shining but there was a cold wind.  I took this photo of the Block Eary Dam with the Tholt-y-Will plantation, on the other side of the glen, in the background.

Usually we follow the Millennium Way up to the little Block Eary plantation and then walk across the hill above the trees.  But Tim wanted to try another route, an alleged "short cut" - so we turned west before the plantation.  It was interesting!  We managed to get through - but we had to find our way around dense patches of gorse, walk along the top of an old sod wall, scramble through a couple of steep-sided overgrown gulleys and across streams.  Alexander decided that one of the streams was too dangerous for a small dog to cross and had to be picked up - but the rest of the party managed to negotiate the hazards.

 

Eventually we got to the track which leads from the glen road up to the dam and the rest of the walk was relatively civilised.  Tim took this photo of the little stream cum waterfall above Irish Cottages.  It formed the border between two old upland farms and you can still see the remains of the old stone walls snaking up the precipitous slope.

 

Instead of joining the road at Irish Cottages, we crossed the river and then walked as far as the old pack horse bridge over the Sulby River before climbing up a sheep path to the road.

Someone was very happy to get back to the car!

Staarvey Road

A muddy walk with ruins.

 

Tuesday 27th November 2012

 

A few photos from our last walk.  Dorothy likes this walk because of the ruins!

 

The first ruin  was just past a field of cows - one of which Trevor said might be a bull.  So Dorothy and I waded through thick mud behind a hawthorn hedge at the far edge of the field until we reached the remains of the old farmhouse. 

 

Tim took this photo while I was trying to get a close-up of the little alcove in the slate wall which looked like a very small built-in cupboard!  The remains of the horse mill are in the foreground.

The second ruin behind a "Manx hedge" (sod bank and hawthorns).

View across a field of turnips to Peel.

A muddy walk along the railway line.

Some gulls enjoying their own private pool in one of the fields alongside the railway line.  At least someone was benefitting from all the wet weather.

Tim noticed these cows huddled around their hay in a field alongside Brack-a-Broom Lane.  Lower slopes of Slieau Whallian in the background and some impressive mud in the foreground.

 

Slieau Dhoo

Still walking . . . with Alex this week.

Wednesday 21st November, 2012

 

    We walked this morning in "changeable" weather.  The forecasters had promised a dry day after two days of heavy rain and gale force winds.  They were wrong again.  It started raining as we left the house and we drove through a heavy shower, which stopped before we reached Ginger Hall, and then another shower which started as we approached the parking area at Tholt-y-Will.  We waited in the car for a few minutes until the worst of the shower had passed by and then set off up the road towards the dam. 

 

    I didn't want to risk getting my camera wet - so I left it in the car and nearly all the photos were taken by Tim this week.  I may not be sending photos every week for a while - it depends on the weather and the light which are not always great for photography at this time of year.

 

    We turned up through the plantation just after passing the old school house and followed the steep zig-zag track through the trees up to the old ruined farm, Sherragh Vane.  The wind was much lighter than predicted, and the rain seemed to be holding off, so we decided to head out of the trees and up to the top of Slieau Dhoo.

 

    As we climbed the hill, we could see a patch of sunshine across the sea on the Mull of Galloway, and another small patch lighting up part of the northern plain of the Island.  I said to the others that the little white church of Jurby looked so pretty in the sunlight and all we needed was a rainbow to complete the picture.

I almost got my wish.  A few minutes later there were a few drops of rain and a rainbow appeared . . . but we lost the patch of sun and the church was barely visible in the gloom.

 

Down the other side of Slieau Dhoo we picked our way along a sheep path - past the dub and through the heather.

Alexander has always loved puddles and he headed straight for this one in a little grassy depression on the side of the hill.  I always carry a bowl and some fresh water for the dogs but it seems pointless except in exceptionally dry weather because they prefer to drink from puddles.

We walked down the hill towards Montpelier and then returned along the Druidale road and past the Sulby Dam.  The rain clouds had gone and it turned into a lovely sunny morning.

have never seen the dam as full as this before.  It had reached maximum capacity and water was running down the overflow drain.

 

There was plenty of water in the series of little waterfalls down the sides of the glen, too.

 

This photo of the Sulby River below the dam gives an impression of the height of the dam wall behind the grassy terraced bank.

 

Ballaglass

 

Almost the full autumn experience

Wednesday 14th November, 2012

 

    Dorothy arrived back safely on Tuesday after her trip to London.  She saw "Singin' in the rain" and went to a couple of wonderful photographic exhibitions - the Ansel Adams exhibition in Greenwich, and the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition at the Natural History Museum.  I sent her an email suggesting the Ballaglass/Cornaa/Ballafayle figure of eight walk for Wednesday morning and wrote "We haven't done that since spring . . . and the autumn leaves under the beeches in Ballaglass Glen may be quite pretty.  I don't expect there will be many leaves left on the trees."

 

    I was right about the leaves on both counts.  We got completely carried away and I took nearly a hundred photos during the walk.  Trevor even commented "Everyone goes to Ballaglass for the bluebells . . . but this is even better!"  So this is an email which should carry a Government Health Warning . . . If you have an allergy to wet leaves - delete before viewing!

 

    We started along the upper path from the car park towards the top end of the Glen  . . . walking over a carpet of beech and elm leaves.  The only thing missing from the "full autumn experience" was the crackle of crisp leaves underfoot.  The leaves were too wet and the best they could manage was a damp rustle.

We were heading towards a row of three of the oldest trees in the glen.  I wonder when they were planted.  I had thought that they were all horse chestnuts but now I am not so sure.  The first one we came to was definitely a chestnut but there didn't seem to be many horse chestnut leaves under the other two.  I will have to check next year when they have their new leaves.

We crossed the bridge at the top of the glen and headed up the steps towards the electric tram station.  Dorothy was lagging behind, reluctant to leave the river.

While we were waiting for her, I took a photo of the men outside the station . . . not quite Grand Central!  The gate is a fairly recent addition to keep the sheep out.  Sheep are rather good at escaping from their fields and used to shelter in the building.  I don't think the tourists appreciated having to wait for their trams in a litter of sheep droppings.

We walked along a muddy footpath outside the stone wall above the glen.  Tim was muttering about the mud.  I think he felt slightly cheated.  I had taken Danny instead of Alexander because I said that there would be a lot of road walking . . . and we hadn't walked along a single road so far.  The poor man didn't get much sympathy.  I just said "Whoever complains most during a walk has to plan the next one!" 

 

Happily, the next section was on tarred roads.  First up the hill past Cashtal yn Ard, down to the ford near the end of the Glen Mona footpath and then along the road to Port Cornaa.  On the way down the hill towards the ford, I climbed up onto a bank and took a photo of Port Cornaa in the valley below.  The tide was in - but it didn't look as though the path would be under water.

 

When we reached the shore, we saw that the tide had come in further and it was touch and go whether we would reach the bridge with dry socks.

Tim took the last photo of me and Danny - and I took the next one of him!

After crossing the bridge, we made our way up the track through the Barony Estate.   we passed this weird beech tree.  I had always assumed that the thick limb which juts over the path was a side branch but Tim looked at it carefully and said that he thought it was the main trunk which had been damaged and had grown at an odd angle.  I think he is right.

I have photographed these beech trunks before but I can't resist them.  They look almost like legs with little "toes".

A little further on, we stopped for coffee but we didn't time it well because there was a brief shower of rain.  I wondered whether it would be a good idea to scrap the Ballafayle section of the walk if it was still raining when we reached the track back to Ballaglass.  The rain stopped before we reached the junction, but Dorothy was looking a bit tired after all her travelling and I asked whether she would prefer to return to the cars.  She admitted that she was feeling "a bit feeble".  That is the last word that I would use to describe Dorothy but we headed back to the glen, went in the lower gate and wandered up the river - taking even more photographs.  Dorothy is standing on a mysterious structure.  It looks like the support for an old bridge dating back to the pleasure garden era but there is nothing visible on the other side of the river.  Perhaps the other pier got washed away during a flood . . .  but there are no traces of a path either.

 

And finally, one more river photo - taken from a wooden bridge further upstream:

 

 There was another shower while we were putting our backpacks in the cars so it was lucky that we didn't finish the planned route.