Retrospective View to Ragleth and Caer Caradoc |
So I raced down, always under the speed limit, and parked in the National Trust car park in Carding Mill Valley then set straight off on
a very pleasant walk. Well I have missed
out certain details you do not need to know which happened between parking and
setting off eg hurtling up to the gents’ for a pee as soon as I could. I blame the pressure of the seat belt on my
bladder whilst driving, although others, who shall not be named, ie my lovely
wife just tells me that it’s a middle aged bloke thing. I am currently considering writing a series
of guide books to public toilets. I am
starting with Cumbria. It will be a series
of 7, which I shall call “A Pictorial Guide to Lakeland Lavatories". I shall hand write the text, which will be
accompanied by pen and ink sketches. I
reckon the format might catch on and inspire other guide book writers.
But there is another thing which you do need to know about. I
also didn’t start the walk before I had put on my boots, not being into bare
foot walking. I have been wearing trail
shoes for the last few months, apart from when facing wintery conditions, but I
have recently invested in some new boots and I wanted to try them out. They are the Ecco Biom Mid Boots, in a
fetching grey coloured yak leather, as reviewed and recommended by Robin at:
New Boots! Ecco Biom Mids |
I did not need boots today, but a shortish walk seemed a good
way of seeing whether they hurt the toes, ankles, knees and toes, knees and
toes. There's a song in that last phrase. As it happens I was pretty
impressed with them. They seem a bit
weird, as to look at they are three quarters rand and one quarter yak leather. I shall call them my randy boots from now on.
Rather than walk down the road to Little Stretton, from
where my route would take me on to the Long Mynd, I followed a path running slightly
above the base of the Mynd, which was very pretty, but rather tortuous in
places, eg because of the occasional obstruction such as a barbed wire topped fence that had to be “negotiated”. We never climb fences blocking our path do we? Certainly not. Never at all.
From Little Stretton the walk was Shropshire at its best. A stiff breeze, sunny spells and fluffy clouds. The views were extremely clear, and as I
climbed there was a magnificent panorama to the rear of me to the hills on the
other side of the Stretton fault line - Ragleth, Hope Bowdler and Caer Caradoc,
ground I had covered a fortnight earlier, and also beyond to the Clee Hills. For those of you who know the area, I took the
path skirting round Callow Hill and Round Hill, a gradual climb to the moorland
plateau that makes the Long Mynd. Then
it was on to Pole Cottage and the top at Pole Bank. It was good to pass a small sign still
pointing down the west side of the Mynd to “Priory Cottage” near Pole Cottage.
I have not been down there for years but this was once the run down
outdoor centre owned by the then Priory Boys Grammar School in Shrewsbury where
I received a pretty good education 40 years ago.
Looking towards Pole Cottage (in the trees) |
Pole Bank looking towards Corndon Hill |
Now this post must be getting tedious to read so I will stop
reminiscing and rant instead. The amount
of litter at Pole Bank was horrifying.
My guess is that it was from a single small party. Pieces of tin foil blowing around –someone’s
sandwich wrapping I assume, together with trail bar wrappers and the like. I spent 5 minutes clearing this up. I will now use some modest and mild words to
describe the people who left this. They
are disgusting, selfish, self-centred lazy, dirty bastards. And tossers to boot. Why bother walking up to a place of
incredible beauty if you are going to despoil it? I can’t fathom it. As I said, tossers. Later on the walk I picked up an empty 1 litre
plastic bottle (Asda Apple and Mango Sparkling water, with no added sugar) and
brought that home too. Out of curiosity
I weighed this when I got back. 52
grammes. Who can’t be arsed to carry 52
grammes off the hill with them? When
they carried it up, with its kilo of fizzy nastiness, it must have weighed 1kilo
and 52 grammes. As I said, tossers.
From the Mynd to the Stiperstones |
"The Shooting Box" Sandwich Spot |
Descending to Carding Mill Valley |
Three and a half hours of perfection, in 12.5 km.
What would Mad Jack have done with the litter miscreants? A large randy boot up the backside, perhaps?
ReplyDeleteAre you absolutely sure you're not a descendent of Mad Jack?
I like the sound of this area - not too high a degree of difficulty with splendid views and birdsong.
No relation to Mad Jack at all, Alan. Boringly sane me. Or so my psychiatrist tells me.
DeleteYour comment about the Shropshire Hills is just right. If you ever get the chance to visit there would be lots of fellow bloggers and tweeters, me included, who would be happy to show you the sights. Would be a great place to test out new body parts too!