Out & About …

… on the North York Moors, or wherever I happen to be.

Month: June 2023

  • Rucksack Woes and Merry Music—Duke of Edinburgh Award Chronicles

    Rucksack Woes and Merry Music—Duke of Edinburgh Award Chronicles

    A look back across Roseberry Common just before I reached the Topping. Below me, a Duke of Edinburgh group from a fine Durham school, all geared up for their Bronze expedition. And if you cast your gaze towards the top of Little Roseberry, you’d spot not one, not two, but a grand total of five…

  • The Unstoppable Sheep—Going Places Without a Sheepdog!

    The Unstoppable Sheep—Going Places Without a Sheepdog!

    The sheep seem to know where they are going. No need for a sheepdog. He’s off on a jolly ride, perched on the back of the quad bike! I heard a comment today that the National Trust has been encouraging Bransdale tenant farmers to reduce their stocking levels. It’s certainly has made the meadows all…

  • William Parkinson and the gibbet on Turkey Nab

    William Parkinson and the gibbet on Turkey Nab

    I reckon Turkey Nab must be one of the steepest hill climbs in Cleveland. It’s one of those routes where vehicles can be driven without tarmac, which makes it popular with 4WD enthusiasts. But for cyclists, it’s a different story altogether. That loose gravel turns it into a proper challenge. This high moorland route has…

  • Hey, it’s good to be back home again

    Hey, it’s good to be back home again

    John Denver could have sung about this old hill being like a long-lost friend. OK, I’ve paraphrased. He was actually singing about his farm. A month away and the changes around here have been absolutely dramatic. The bluebells, the mayflowers, and the primroses. They’ve all had their moment and moved on. But the bracken, of…

  • ‘The White Hoose’

    ‘The White Hoose’

    If you’re ever find yourself travelling along the East Coast Main Railway Line, look out for this salmon fishermen’s bothy. It’s perched about a mile or so north of the English-Scottish border, atop a prominent level spur, overlooking the rocky shore at Lamberton Skerrs. You’ll only catch a glimpse of it. It was a bothy…

  • A Tale of Illicit Stills around Loch Torridon

    A Tale of Illicit Stills around Loch Torridon

    An absolutely mirror-like Loch Torridon The rugged and mountainous terrain encircling the loch was once a stage for a tussle between cunning smugglers and officers from the Customs & Excise. Back in the late 19th century, the number of secret hideouts for smuggling on the west coast of Ross-shire was on the rise. The Government…

  • Strome Castle

    Strome Castle

    One of the must-see destinations on an early 20th-century grand tour of Scotland was Strome Castle, the fortress that once stood imposing, overseeing the crossing of Loch Carron. But, as the main roads were upgraded, and the ferry service to Strome axed in the 1970s, the castle found itself nestled in a tranquil cul-de-sac, its…

  • Attadale: its legacy and link to the Carribean

    Attadale: its legacy and link to the Carribean

    A pleasant wander up the tranquil glen of Attadale. Looking back, the picturesque village of Lochcarron, gracefully adorning the distant shore of its eponymous loch. And there, in the far-off horizon, proudly stand the daunting Applecross mountains. Attadale, what a peaceful valley it is! Recently though, it has witnessed the timber harvesters’ diligent efforts, clearing…

  • The Western Red Hills

    The Western Red Hills

    These are known as the Western Red Hills. They’re rounded and blushing with a rosy hue, a hint at their shared moniker. And their sides are covered in long lines of scree. Quite a sight, especially when you compare them to the jagged Black Cullin ridges. This view is taken from Garbh-bheinn, a Corbett and…

  • Gazing down on Fingal’s Pinnacles

    Gazing down on Fingal’s Pinnacles

    Amidst Nature’s tranquil canvas, the distinctive call of the cuckoo shattered the silence once more. From the treeless shores to the lofty mountains, that feathered harbinger has seemed to tail us relentlessly, from the westernmost reaches of Skye to the farthest point north. In June, so the old rhyme says, he changes his tune. Yet,…