The most memorable part of Winter mountaineering is snow, but the walks of earlier years fall into a confusion of memories. The places are clear enough, but the dates are forgotten. I can recall one time when we walked up the Glyders, in Snowdonia, whose jumbled boulder field was shrouded by a thick layer of snow. The path upward was past the Devil's Kitchen, Twll Dhu, a dark cleft through which water surges down from the summit. There is a climbing route, but only in Summer, and this time the cascade was hanging with icicles. We took the alternative and safer route, the footpath that rises steadily to the higher slopes of the mountain. You have to be wary as you tread, for the summits have small hanging valleys, tiny U-shaped stream beds, residues of the pre-glacial drainage of the hill, whose streamlets cascade in Summer over the dark wall of the Cwm. I was not careful enough and put my foot through the ice into the stream bed below. Wringing out your sock at 3000 feet in snowy weather is a chilly experience. We ambled round the summit and walked across the saddle to Glydr Vawr. The misty air limited the view, but the majesty of the Winter mountain takes you out of your human comfort zone, to the edge of habitabilty, to a place where humans pay fleeting visits and then retreat. The Winter mountain is real wilderness. We need it but cannot stay long in its presence. We descended to the safety of the valley, stopping at the Tea Shack for a cup of steaming tea and a burger.
Yet some walks are memorable for what went wrong. Three of us, two males and a female, once walked into the south Carneddau, divided from the Glydrs by the Ogwen Valley. The white magnificence of the hills entranced us, but the group leader navigated wrongly and as the snow storm swirled away visibility to a few yards he misread the route and took us into the uninhabited part of the range with evening falling. Once we recovered our bearings in the fading light, we were faced with three choices: go back over the mountain, go the long route round it, or stay the night on the hill, but the last would have meant the mountain rescue team being alerted. But my legs were too tired for the former, so we took the long trek round the mountain. We managed to return to the climbing hut just before our panicking friends telephoned the rescue team to report us missing. The drinks in a warm bar were welcome that night, but next day my legs felt like stone. Lessons learned!.
Yet there are times when the air is clear and the snow is light. One time in Langdale,Cumbria, we, the Beswick family, walked up to Stickle Tarn and on the way found a snow bank. The children piled in and soon the children of other families joined in the fun, leaping and rolling down the bank, throwing snowballs and having a really good time. Purists might complain about the pristine beauty of the snow being spoiled, but by the end of the day there were several happy children whose family walks had produced unexpected fun.
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Amazing Article and lovely to read about Dunham Massey. .Thanks for Sharing the Tips.
Great. I never anticipated that they would sell in Rumania. I find them very comfortable. I have never had any soreness with them.
I took a look at Johnscliffe boots and they seem to be exactly what I need! I'll order a pair online and hope for the best.
I have used a variety of boots over the years,and currently I use a Johnscliffe boot, an English brand, which has a hard heel. Can you obtain a bandage that will protect your heel? If you can get one, apply it to keep the gel pads in place. Good luck.
This was a nice, pleasant read about appreciating nature in winter. What boots do you use on your hikes though? I find the ones with a hard back (at the heel) chafe my skin. I tried using gel pads (the kind that you stick onto the inside of the boot), but they come unstuck.
I have added John Merrill's book to the books on sale from Amazon in this article. It is worth reading.
Here is why care must be taken on stormy coasts. John Merril, the first man to walk the coast of Britain, and six foot three tall, was walking along a beach in North West Scotland several metres from a quiet sea, when suddenly he was for a few moments up to his waist in water. He kept his balance, and at his great height he was not overwhelmed, but a smaller person could have been swept away. He had encountered a freak wave.
frankbeswick, All of the walks have inspiring, interesting experiences and observations, but I must admit to a particular delight in reading about Dunham Massey and your reflections on the woody changes since your children's childhood.
My preference is for landscapes full of flowers, fruits, leaves, and nuts. But I also admire the beauty of structure in "the bones of the land" when foliage is gone.
Thank you for the guided country lane, deer park, mountain, and shoreline tours.
It would be wonderful if you saw an American Eagle. I had to wait until I was fifty six to see an eagle, and that was in Norway.It stooped on its shallow dive and did not rise again, so I suppose that it caught its prey. I have only ever seen one in the wild, but they are rare here.
Twenty degrees [ fahrenheit I presume] is low, but is it dry cold rather than moist cold? In Britain we are aware that you can tolerate dry cold air more easily than moist cold air, as the damp seems to foster colds and chills. People think that people like us are mad when we go out in the cold. I remember one of my wife's relations thinking that I was nutty for camping on the Atlantic shore of Ireland in February, but it was a beautiful place well worth it, but a cold night! The winter beauty is worth it.
I imagine that Colorado is a great place for walking, but as you know there is great beauty in America.