A cold walk in Thornton, 24 February 2012

A guest blog from Paula:

We set off on what was a cold day from Thornton reservoir. 

A new LRWG member?!

The reservoir was originally built in 1854 when it had its own treatment works which were situated to the South of the current dam.  It is now owned by Severn Trent and the water is treated a few miles away at Cropston reservoir.

From Thornton we headed to Whittington Grange, Barlestone, Nailstone and Bagworth.

Hopefully these horses won't end up in our Burgers!

Barlestone - a pit wheel from the coal mines.

Coal miners used to live in Barlestone but there was never a mine in the village. The miners travelled to pits in Bagworth, Coalville or Newbold Heath.

Many thanks to Michael for leading his first group walk.

Old Sarum, Sunday 17 February 2012

We awoke relaxed – very relaxed, in some cases – on this sunny morning for a gentle walk around Salisbury.  Thankfully the paths beside the Avon proved not to be as submerged as we had feared when surveying from the cathedral tower, and we were soon on the dappled ramparts of Old Sarum.

The prehistoric hill-fort and its occasional Roman augmentations took a while to circumnavigate, and all the while we were buzzed by low-flying aeroplanes and parachutists as a reminder that modern military reinforcements weren’t far away.  Then, of course, we investigated the Norman castle in the middle, alongside the foundations of the old cathedral, and did what any self-respecting medieval citizen would do next – repair to the pub.

The magic hill we never climbed, Saturday 16 February 2013

In Wiltshire, it was walking weather.  Or so it looked as we stepped out of the hostel, even if we were soon in freezing fog.

Avebury’s great ring of standing stones looked even more mysterious in the mist, and the patches of light which gradually fell through onto the Ridgeway highlighted a view which looked it had barely altered in the last millennium or so.

Lunch was taken in top of a white horse – of the engraved chalk variety.  Then, after some interesting experiences exerting our rights of way, the fogs cleared sufficiently to reveal the strange alien protuberance of Silbury Hill, all the more alien in aspect for its earlier disappearance.

After all that amazing terrain and the odd sarsen or two, we returned to Salisbury as honorary druids for sustenance at the Avon Brewery, and very tasty it was too.

In-spire, Friday 15 February 2013

Out of the door bright and early for the easy drive south to Salisbury, arriving in plenty of time for lunch at the café attached to the museum,  suitably for a former educational facility, the curators had wisely not added an ‘s’ to ‘panini’, and all was well with the world.

Three Lions On My West (window)

A dozen disciples, appropriately, assembled at the cathedral door as planned, and after a briefing beside the world’s oldest working mechanical clock we started climbing.  The spiral staircases and close-up stained glass were familiar enough in even in a masterpiece of a cathedral like this one – after all, we climb a lot of them!  But in the tower, we stood next to the heavy metal while it struck three o’clock, the whole place reverberating for half a minute, including the smallest bells which had been founded in Loughborough.

Then, from the top of the tower (and, of course, the bottom of the spire), we surveyed the city and plotted our next move... to the pub, naturally.

Snow snow, snow snow snow snow, snow snow snow snow, snow snow there’s no limit: Castleton, 10 February 2012

Up with the lark, except there weren’t any larks, because in Leicestershire it was grey, drizzly and wholly uninspiring.  But, today was a day to walk in the Peak District, and whatever the weather’s doing here, it’s usually doing something else there.  So, we gritted our teeth and headed out to Derbyshire, and we were right, as just after Chesterfield grey gave to white.  In Castleton, it was a snowy paradise.

The fine views of the valley got better as we climbed, and naturally there was a deep coat of snowflakes all over the Devil's Arse.  By the top of Mam Tor, we were in a near white-out, but Claire had her compass out and we stayed on the right track – until we just had to pause to make a snowman and temptation got the better of us.

Down the hill through a combination of slithering, sliding and sledging on our derrières – waterproof trousers are a wonderful thing.  Welcome drinks by a cosy fire, and home after another excellent day of trekking in the surprisingly Alpine East Midlands.

Carlton, 3 February 2013

It was a bit of a grey morning, but the rain held off as we arrived in Carlton, to note that nominative determinism evidently applied and a rambler with the right name had got there first.  ‘Quite right too.  Being an official new members’ walk, we soon had some new faces appearing, too – and one back for a second time, so it’s good to know we’re not that scary.

Off we set on Yvonne’s first outing as a walk leader (congratulations, by the way!), with the initial mud soon giving way to a nice long canal tow-path.  We shouldn’t have got too optimistic, though, as lots of mud soon reappeared – but we’re used to that.

Dramatis personae

After lunch in a hippo-free glade, a brief further wallow took us to the Squirrel and Nuts for a spot of refreshment.  Then it was mud, glorious mud, all the way home.  Still, it soon washes off.