Tree

January and February can be gloomy, miserable months. It’s like the saturation & contrast has been knocked down on everything. Gladly, the low sun occasionally makes an appearance and you are reminded of what the Spring and Summer will bring.

Mayrhofen, Austria

G strapping up his bindings at the top of another empty slope. Nearing the end of a bluebird day, the wind picks up and the dry powder flows up n’ over the slope.

Shot taken 20th Dec 2009.

Bliss

This is an old pic of Blue, I just love how happy he is, taking a breather from chasing his tennis ball.

November Sun

I love walking in the Autumn. Despite the wind and occasional horizontal rain, it seems all worth it when the low sun baths the land with its gentle warm glow. The shadows are unbelievably long and it feels like you’re walking through a watercolour painting. In one of his favourite fields, Blue stopped to gaze through the wire fence with an alert but calm inquisitiveness. I snapped this pic on my aging mobile, but it came out rather well.

Malvern Hills

Three of us headed to the Malvern Hills on Sunday (just gone). Unfortunately the weather sucked. Still we walked up and around North Hill, Sugar Loaf and Worcestershire Beacon (Highest point in the Malverns – 1395 ft). We were rewarded with views of bugger all. Still, we’d worked up an appetite & headed for the nearest pub for some food. Suitably stuffed we emerged from the pub to find the weather had cleared, so we headed back up Worcs’ Beacon for some stunning views.

Trig Stone on Worcs’ Beacon

Mike & Andy heading down Worcs’ Beacon towards North Hill

Twilight in Cambridgeshire

I caught this twilight shot on my mobile phone late last week in Cambridgeshire, at bang on 7pm. A bit of Googling shows that actual sunset was 6 minutes before. Sunlight is still striking the brooding clouds and stratosphere.

Lost on Kinder Scout

Vale of Edale

After being in the Lakes for a week, the office can become a tad claustrophobic. So I hatched a plan to drive up to the Peak District for a days walking. I set out from Edale to tackle Kinder Scout on a bright but slightly overcast day. All was going well, a simple trek along the Pennine Way led to the foot of Jacob’s Ladder. From here I followed my downloaded instructions. A difficult, but immensely pleasurable climb up the waterfalls of the Cloughs led to Kinder Scout’s plateau. Unfortunately as I emerged from the Cloughs, the cloud suddenly descended. Visibility dropped to around 200m in this very alien strange place of grough strewn peat bog. A truly amazing place. For those not familiar with Kinder Scout, it is a large plateau, with several (three I think) high points, all at 636m.

I couldn’t see any landmarks to get my exact position, despite wondering around up there for a fair amount of time. If it wasn’t for my compass I’d have been screwed, every direction was identical. As I’d never visited the area before, I was getting a tad worried and decided to abandon my planned circular route and head roughly south to pick up a path. I ended up at Noe Stool, so I followed the path south back to the safety of the Pennine Way. I can’t wait to go back during fairer weather.

Peat Bog in all directions on Kinder Scout’s plateau ‘summit’

Noe Stool emerging from the cloud

Obligatory random sheep shot

Dog topiary in Edale village

Sleeping Dangerously

Whilst trawling the internet’s soft underbelly, I stumbled across this astonishing photograph by Bend to Squares. The mix of beauty, relaxation, danger and potential horror makes it mesmerizing to me. A stunning photograph and a work of genius.

Bend to Squares’ Flickr site

Bonnie Scotland & Conquering Ben Nevis

View from the top of Ben Nevis

Having never visited Scotland before, I was raring to get up there when a few friends suggested we head north for a week in the Highlands.

The journey wasn’t bad, unlike the miserable weather. None of Scotland’s rugged beauty was visible from the car as we snaked our way to base camp near Fort William.

Once there, the seven of us settled into our comfortable, newly built lodges, had a few beers and hit the sack.
Next morning, the weather cleared enough for us to admire the imposing north face of the Glen Nevis range.

Dodging the drizzle, we managed to grab the best of the weather visiting some truly beautiful areas. Bathed in glorious sunshine, we dispatched the all-important Loch Ness, including a boat trip on the famous deep dark waters. Over the week we walked some lovely routes, a 13 mile walk here, a pub meal there, Neptune’s staircase, forest walks, Lochs Sunart and Lomond and a trip on the Jacobite ‘Harry Potter’ steam train were a few of the highlights. It’s a shame my four legged friend Blue wasn’t with me, he’d have loved the walks.

On Wednesday evening, a beer induced confidence led me to suggest that the 4409 feet of Ben Nevis looked like a piece of cake, and a plan to climb it on a forecasted sunny Friday was hatched.

On Friday morning I drowsily ignored my early alarm and woke up in a panic around 10.30. Completely unprepared, my mate Guy (who was the only mug to agree to the ‘expedition’) and myself arrived at the Glen Nevis visitor centre an hour later. A quick trip to the shop, to grab a map and an essential sun blocking baseball cap, we were set to go. It was glorious weather, the strength of the sun in Scotland seems amplified compared to middle England.

At 11.45ish we set off armed with a dismal food supply with the sun beating down. We had one round of sandwiches and a handful of cakes and biscuits between us. I hadn’t even had any breakfast. I say one round of sandwiches… it was meant to be one round each, but when it came to stop for lunch many hours later, Guy furiously discovered that he had left his lunch in the boot of the car. It wasn’t funny for him, but I couldn’t help laughing amid his swearing.

Prior to lunch, just ¾ of an hour in, I realised my grave error in thinking it would be easy. I knew I couldn’t make it, the sun was relentless, my legs like lead. I wolfed down a few Jaffa cakes, which helped immensely and slowly soldiered on, trying to keep up with my walking partner. It was tough for me, I find it incredibly tough hiking, even walking uphill, but incredibly easy downhill. I thought this was the norm, the status quo. It seems I was mistaken, a lot of people I have spoken to find it is vice versa for them.

We kept going, occasionally thinking we were close to the top, only to be thwarted by the numerous false summits. Soon we could see the snowfields, and knew we were close. Guy wanted to throw the towel in, but with a little persuasion we cracked on.

One more push and we made it, we summated Ben Nevis around 5.15pm on 29th May 2009. We were greeted by a remarkable view. The weather was perfect, bluebird skies and hundreds of peaks as far as the eye could see. It was truly stunning, breathtaking, staggering and unforgettable.

I found the whole experience quite emotional. I know Ben Nevis isn’t a big deal to serious walkers, but combined with the view, the feeling of achievement, genuinely elation and self-fulfilment I did feel very emotional. I also felt completely refreshed and re-energised. I sat next to the triangulation point and smoked a well-deserved Café Crème cigar. It was a bloody marvellous feeling.

A few hours later we were back at the base and heading back to the lodge, sunburned, knackered and starving. With our new found confidence, talk turned to completing the triple with Snowdon and Scafell Pike on the ‘next’ list.

After a large bowl of pasta, I went out on the deck with a beer and peacefully watched the pinky orange sunset slowly bathe the north face of my first ever ‘bagged’ Monroe, with a new found admiration and respect for it. I’m sure I’ll be back someday, with Blue by my side.

Rugged scenery became visible when the drizzle lifted

A Tarn nestling on Ben Nevis

Westerly view over Loch Linnhe towards the Isle of Mull

Another westerly shot over the boulder fields

A little higher, amongst the snowfields

The old observatory on the summit

I finally made it!

We made it

Me & Guy in the snowfields at the start of the descent

Watching the sun set on the north face of Ben Nevis with a beer

Bird of Paradise

Bird of Paradise – Strelitzia reginae
Shot taken outside our hotel on a recent business trip to San Diego.

The bird-of-paradise flower (Strelitzia reginae), or crane flower as it is sometimes known, is native to the southern and eastern parts of the Cape Province and northern Natal in South Africa, where it grows wild on river banks and in scrub clearings in coastal areas. It was first introduced into Britain in 1773 by Sir Joseph Banks, then the unofficial director of the Royal Gardens at Kew (as they were known at that time). He named the exotic-looking plant Strelitzia in honour of Queen Charlotte, wife of George III and Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, who lived at Kew for many years.

Taken from the Kew Gardens website