Orange UFO Sightings

A casual comment and an assumed spec on the lens of my camera, half made me think of UFOs. Today I looked in a daily paper and saw that there have been several recent reports of strange orange lights in the sky over the UK. Having looked at my photo more and tried to zoom in on the strange orange coloured ball in the far right of the picture, I have no explanation


Picture taken on 29th May, mid afternoon. Follow the horizon to the right in the picture. There is a small spec, which I thought was dirt on the lens. On zooming in, it is definitely something in the picture. It could be a balloon of some sort, I'm just surprised I didn't see it, I was on the hill top for sometime generally just being aware of my situation and orientation..

Carn Fadryn..a short walk with a view

Last week I was lucky enough to spend a few days on the Llyn Peninsula, in North Wales. On my first day, by way of a stop on my drive further South, I climbed Yr Eifl and Tre'r Ceiri. Sadly I have little to tell from these hills except cold wind and thick mist and stumbling around in ankle snapping boulders hidden in heather and bilberry!
Carn Fadryn viewed across farmland from the West close to the village of Dinas

By way of a reward for the previous days efforts, I decided to finally set foot on a delightful hill, CarnFadryn, which sits centrally in the peninsula. Like its higher northerly neighbour Tre'r Ceiri it boasts an Iron Age hill fort. Though not as impressive, it is nonetheless thought provoking and I found myself trying to imagine life in such a place so long ago.
The track up out of the village leads to a gate, where the direction changes, following the wall to the right, before ascending.

There is easy parking in the village which takes it's name from the hill behind. Today the sun was beating back a sea mist which kept me cool in my tent earlier. Now the day was almost hot and I chatted with a couple who had just come down and spotted their first ever Grass Snake, basking in the heat.
Looking North East lining Garn Boduan up with the distant horizon of Yr Eifl and furher right into Snowdonia. The Irish Sea and the town of Nefyn are hidden in the mist. Perhaps there's even a UFO in there too...

To the left of the chapel a track goes boldly straight at the hill. After a small gate such an aggressive route is softened by the path skirting round in an anti-clockwise manner, so as to ease the angle of ascent! After a short steep climb with a little meandering through the heather, the hill fort was breached and the summit trig point in sight. My reward for the day, far reaching views and the sea mist clinging to the north coast, adding to the impression of altitude given from such a hill which punches bigger than its size!

Cwm Llafar Horseshoe..dogs, bogs and a hitch-hiker!

What a strange combination, a sunny bank holiday weekend! With such perfect weather it seemed criminal not to venture out, but I knew I'd not be alone. Got myself up and out with a mountain walk in mind, but as I drove I still had no plan as to where, though I was driving to Snowdonia.
In the end I stopped at the side of the A5 just out of Bethesda by Ogwen Bank in a shaded lay-by above the river. A cup of tea and a glance at my map and my mind was settled.a walk I'd not done before...with my own little addition from the usual route.
View of the Cwm Llafar horseshoe from the start above Bethesda, Dafydd on the right Yr Elen left...gnarly dogs through the trees in front!

I left the car where it was..in the shade and crossed over and into the small forest of Braich Melyn. They've been logging here and the smell of pine wood in the warming morning air was soothing as the cooling last dew in the clearings was refreshing. I touched the edge of the village and followed the Afon Llafar upstream through old trees and a boulder garden which made for some lovely waterfalls which are probably rarely visited.
Now the landscape changed to farmland and sheep pasture, with a distant view of my intended climb. I don't like walking over farms, even though there is a right of way, I'm always aware that I'm probably not welcome. Even worse when the path goes through the farmyard...there are always dogs..I'm not keen on dogs and they usually know it. So after a worrying woofing at...I was very happy to be out on open moorland!
The dark cliffs of Llech Du on the left appear to bar the way. A diagonal climb over large scree first right then doubling back left unlocks the way up.
My big decision! To climb Carnedd Dfydd in front of me I had a choice of branching right and taking the gently rising grassy slopes of Mynydd Du. I could already see a couple of walkers take this route. Or continue up the narrowing valley and try and locate a scrambling route which I remember reading about sometime ago, through Crib Lem. I chose the latter, the valley scenery was worth the risk that I might have to turn back...I wish I'd brought my scrambling guide book along!
Part way up Crib Lem, looking up towards the summit of Carnedd Dafydd.

Took a lunch break beneath the dark cliffs of Llech Du, above which the ridge leads up to the summit. I watched a couple of small groups take a steep path to the right of the cliffs and between a waterfall, continuing up a stone- fall and doubling back to the left. Soon found myself in the same place and enjoyed the quick height gain.
The scrambling starts at the very top of the cliffs and I felt slightly daunted by the continuous stretch of rock steps and hurdles in front. It's always the same the first time on a new route, but as ever one step at a time and never climb up something you can't climb back down...I got myself in state on Tryfan in the past and still remember the sickening feeling of thinking I was stuck.
In the end I enjoyed the climb. The rock is good and gives nice hand and foot holds. There is no real direct exposure, but a very definite feeling of being on the crest of a ridge with the obstacles coming fairly constantly for an hour or so.
Looking back down the ridge, watching climbers progress. The Afon Llafar winds distantly below.

I'd shared my climb with a handful of others, helping and guiding each other when necessary. So it as a bit of a shock but not really a surprise to meet the huge walking groups already up from other routes. I like sharing the mountains..but groups numbering more than five or six just don't look right. We're talking coach loads! So I raced up Carnedd Llewelyn and beyond without stopping. Took a solitary break at crags overlooking Yr Elen, the final peak of my horseshoe. Looking down into Fynnon Caseg (Mare's Spring), I could just make out two mountain ponies by the shore!
Yr Elen is a mountain to savour, majestically standing centrally in the range with Anglesey and the Irish Sea beyond

Yr Elen stands alone from the other mountains. From here I could see back to my whole route and plan ahead for the way back. There is no path marked on the map across quite a large open area. In reality there is a very steep scree path which gives way to grassy slopes to the North East and the crags at Foel Ganol. I stayed with high ground as long as possible but knew I'd have to go cross country to pick up the Afon Llafar and challenge the inevitable bog. Which despite the recent rain was quite cross-able by stepping from tussock to tussock! To avoid the farms and dogs I even took on more open bog to pick up the far corner of the forest and make a different return. I was even rewarded by a meeting with a strangely solitary mountain pony who sniffed the air, snorted then carried on eating!
Wild mountain pony...hardy as the hills...look at that mane!

As a measure of my feeling of well being and openhearted- ness gained from such an enriching day...I found myself acting totally out of character and stopping to pick up a hitch-hiker! The gentleman in question carried a very large rucksack...which turned out to be a packed para glider...I hope. Anyway on the drive to Capel Curig I found out that Ian is a senior member of the North Wales Hang gliding and Paragliding club. He'd spent the afternoon chasing thermals above the very mountains I'd walked on. On further conversation, with things aviation, it turns out that his son is member of flight crew for the same company which I work for...small world!

Yorkshire Coast...for a change

The original plan was a trip to North Wales, a place I know and like so much. However a late change in the weather forecast made me uneasy. Now I'm not scared of rain but I do prefer sunshine. So after a little thought and a glance at a map, the decision was made. A trip into the unknown, an adventure in Yorkshire!
Robin Hoods Bay with crumbling cliffs and the tide dropping over the rock shelves.

So after an early start and a surprisingly easy drive, we found ourselves parking just above Boggle Hole, a small wooded inlet, towards the Northern end of Robin Hoods Bay. Blue sky, fresh, slightly cool Easterly breeze and warmth from a hazy sun. Perfect!
Typical scene in the village where it's easy to see why smugglers easily lost customs men through the network of alleys and steps.

The dropping tide invited us for a long walk South following along the crumbling cliffs which hold fossilised secrets ready to be discovered. Sand Martins fluttered almost like bats around their cliff top nest holes and a few Fulmars cackled noisily from impossible ledges. In the distance towards the sea several figures could be seen bending down sifting through the exposed seaweed...Winkle pickers!
The Bay Hotel where fishermen wait for the tide to float their boats to an easy catch..

We left the car parked at Boggle Hole and now walked the short distance along the beach North to Robin Hoods Bay village. Now there were lots more people and the feeling of the seaside holidays with kids in rock pools, dogs barking and winter white flesh bared to the first sun worth worshipping.
The village from a distance looks unimpressive. Up close, it's an amazing little place with crazy quaint houses almost tripping over each other and falling into the sea! Really has to be visited to be appreciated and the fish and chips are enormous and gorgeous.
Despite the tacky image, this place sold the best ice cream of the day...and we tried some!

Just up the road or round the headland is Whitby. Once famous for its fishing fleet and the ruined Abbey of St Hilda, now a bit more kiss me quick mixed with Bram Stokers Dracula, vampires and Goths! We stumbled in on one of the two weekends annually that Whitby plays host to a gathering of Goths. They really made the day with some fantastic costumes parading in whole families of generations dressed to the nines in corsets, cloaks and canes. As if ordered from below, the sun vanished and a swift thunderstorm swept across and out to sea leaving a close muggy misty evening.
Whitby's somewhat strange harbour entrance points directly North...following the brief storm.

So a chance to leave the dockside pub where it would be all to easy to stay and climb the well worn steps up to the abbey for some last photos taken in hope more than certainty and with a pleasant result. Which summed up a perfect day out really. Yorkshire is really quite nice..
St Hilda's Abbey makes a spectacular backdrop to Whitby's cramped streets and busy harbour.

Introducing Henry..

I have taken Henry on loan at the riding school. He is a Warmblood Bay gelding, standing 16.2h and at a rough guess 10-12 years old. Very handsome he is too! Henry came to the school some two or three years ago and was immediately popular, probably due to his looks..possibly to his detriment. He was initially overworked and almost inevitably went lame and had a back problem. On his recovery other new shiny horses had taken the limelight and the poor lad became an also ran in popularity and he generally languished without turnout or work.
Henry the Horse! Never stands still for very long and is quite bargy...needs to get out more!

Luckily for Henry he was taken on loan last Summer by Helen. Horses thrive with good regular attention and care. So with good feed and a warm clean stable his rehabilitation from obscurity was swift. With one problem. Horses like people have different characters. Now with proper weight and potential fitness Henry started to act himself...no longer squashed with overwork. The opposite...bursting with energy...nervous energy! He is a very spooky horse...easily worried. So on his re-introduction to the school, unfortunately he managed to make a name for himself bucking riders off. Not maliciously, but as a result of nervous tension. He is not really best suited in a school. A riding school horse should be steady giving the rider confidence. Henry is the opposite. He takes confidence from the rider...he needs a steadying hand to reassure his nervous nature.
I'm about to get stepped on!

So he's now in my hands. The challenge is to try and apply the same skills learned from looking after Heather, though Henry is so much different. On a day to day basis he is dirty and wet in his stable, though he seems to be settling a little now. He is happy to be groomed and picks his feet up quite well. Though I've been told he has poor feet, they're lots better than Heathers were. He has very elegant fine legs and a big plus, no white hair or pink skin, which so often seems to be more prone to infections. He's fine haired and thin skinned, which means he's a bit sensitive to brush, but stays clean and his coat comes up shiny without much effort. He had his teeth rasped in the week which was needed but revealed no trouble and he behaved very well.
Henry's in lovely condition and just needs some more fitness to get him working nicely.

I have got my work cut out though. He has poor stable manners, which are already improving. A walk in hand across the yard is close to an epic adventure. To turn him out is close to suicide with two leading him! To fetch him in is fraught as he will not be separated. I've had to get someone else to catch another to bring in alongside. None of these things are his fault. He's just not been handled enough and had regular boundaries applied. I can understand why...he is very strong and intimidating. Taking the couple of photos of him ended up with me having what is probably a broken toe as he jumped on my foot...ouch! Ridden work is coming along and I'll write more soon.

An Invigorating trip..

I'm currently on a training course through work. So far I've done four weeks out of seven, in a classroom with no windows, supplied with foul supposedly conditioned air. Not only that, but the course is presented on computers..so for much of the day the room is dark and I'm looking at a laptop screen. To keep from falling asleep I'm drinking far too much chemical coffee and hot choc from a vending machine. I'm getting up early to study...plus doing another three hours or so at night...all on laptops! Normally my work is varied and I'm sort of free range with big bright horizons, with plenty to do. So not surprisingly I'm starting to suffer and badly needed a day out!
Spectacular view of Llyn Ogwen from the shoulder below Tryfan's North Ridge

So with an unexpected free day..grasped the opportunity and headed for the hills..after picking up a good friend, Giles, who I would guide for the day! Feels like it's been grey for weeks. Imagine the sight of blue skies across the Irish Sea in one direction and snow capped mountains their summits defined keenly against the sky in the other. I really had to concentrate on driving, as it was so tempting to admire the view!
This guy, with no gear and little idea(Giles) kept following me! Could have left him to the goats, but gave him half my hot choc instead..

The snow was a surprise and not forecast. So my plans for the day had to be adjusted accordingly. I had intended a walk to the top of Tryfan following the same route to the far South Peak via the Heather Terrace path, that I walked back in June with Liz. I had picked the Heather terrace as a loose connection to the horse I have loaned and lost this week. The path with the flower of her name is fittingly beautiful, yet as rocky and hard as the mare herself. A fitting tribute.
Tryfan's goats seem to have had a good year, with plenty of young kids..

We had the place to ourselves. As we gained height towards the North Ridge the snow became deeper. No footprints. So the snow was fresh..last nights..so not icy and a delight to crunch through. Unfortunately this made the route-finding all the more tricky and I was aware of a worsening weather forecast. Eventually we found the elusive path...well the terrace and made our way along. By the time we'd got to the South end the cloud was descending and snow was being blown in the increasing wind. No time for bravery..after attempting to make snow angels on a precarious slab and nearly falling off. We decided to get to the valley floor and head home.

My attempt at making mountain snow angels nearly ended up with me flying off the side!

Heather has been sold....gone

Someone came to try her on Monday. By the time I got to the yard on Wednesday, I'd missed her by half an hour..sold, loaded and gone. Even though I knew this might come, the reality hit hard and I can only say that I'm devasted.


What is most frustrating is that no one sought my knowledge gained daily looking after her. Heather's new owner will have to start like I did...no clues, a blank sheet. Whereas I know so much and would willingly pass on every detail to make her future that much easier. I feel very disappointed and let down by the people who should really have had her interests at heart..yet constantly put up barriers to her welfare.

My last sight of her was when I called her in at dusk on Tuesday. She came, bringing half the ponies with her. Limping lame on her fore again, I noted. It was raining and really pretty ugly, so didn't take her rug off...just let her eat her bucket of feed...gave her a scratch where she likes and turned her back out...saying goodbye, as I always do. She didn't linger by the gate with the rain.