Greeting the Solstice Sun

In need of some solstice solace after a week stuck in front of a computer processing images and other business distractions (it's not all wandering the hills grabbing the odd pic as you go along you know ;-) we decided to head west to the coastline and low wooded valleys on the Silverdale side of Morecambe Bay.  It's an ideal spot to enjoy some nice circular walks, spend a bit of time wildlife watching and simply sit and immerse yourself in the outdoors. 

Sunset on the 20th June 2014



Accompanied by the sounds of birds we had a walk along the rocky shore, returning much later in the dark.

This image, believe it or not, was shot in the dark with only the slightest hint of afterglow in the sky.  It just shows what modern digital compact system cameras are capable of.  To get the ghost simply ask the person to walk out of the pic part way through the exposure.

 

The next morning we headed back along the coast to enjoy the solstice sunrise.  With high tide due around 6.am we were careful to make sure we could get back well above the high tide line. 



We stood on the cliffs and watched the tide racing in.  It was both beautiful and frightening at the same time.

From our high point we could see how the tide sneaks in behind any sandbanks cutting off any possible escape.

 The atmosphere feels really menacing when the tide turns.  To start with the sand starts to make a crackling, popping noise.  This is then followed by strange hissing, gurgling and whispering sounds as the sea rushes over the sand, filling in the hollows and encircling the sandbanks. 

I took some real time video shots of the tide coming in and it took around a minute to race up the sandbank and cover it completely. I will add these to the blog when I get time.

 

Solstice Sunrise

 

After a couple of hours sleep we headed out for a nice easy circular walk from Silverdale via Jenny Brown's Point.  

 

Old Quay which dates from around 1790? when copper smelting was carried out at the point.

 

Copper Smelting Mill chimney further along from the Quay at Jenny Brown's Point

 

We then heading inland via Fleagarth wood to the village of Silverdale.  The final stretch from the village took us back along the coast via Cove and Know End Point.

 

In the evening we sat on the rocky shore and watched the sun set across Morecambe Bay and the Kent Channel.

Calm

 

As it got dark we made a small fire just below the tide line for a brew.

Afterglow across Morecambe Bay.

All in all a nice change from mountains.

 Text/images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

 

Standards Hill - Lunedale

I am afraid the next few posts will be a bit random and not in date order.  Blogger is being a right pain and at times and I simply cannot be bothered battling on getting posts up when it goes slow, won't save or add images, refuses to acknowledge I even have a blog at times, or any number of other issues.  I know others are experiencing issues as well so perhaps it is time to move to a new blog such as wordpress.

Anyway yesterday it was rather overcast in Lunedale, but even so despite the poor light I had a wander (or perhaps more accurately heather bash) up onto Standards Hill, returning via the Closehouse mine track

On the way visited another air crash site, this time of a Blenheim Mk1 aircraft which crashed up here in bad weather on 26th October 1938. 



What is left is slowly being claimed by the moor with the rest well buried in the soft peat.

That said despite the passing of over 80 years you can still see the green paint on the aluminium fuselage

Sadly Pilot John Owen Sowerbutts aged 25, Wireless Operator William Ashbridege aged 21 and Wireless Operator/Air Gunner Horace Redfern aged only 18 all died in the accident.

Moving on I headed to the summit of Standards which is a bit like Nine Standards over in Cumbria, only here most of the cairns seem to have fallen down.  There is also a strange little partially roofed cairn/howf with no entrance on the summit.

Not sure about the history of this hill top but clearly a lot of effort has gone into building cairns over the years.  Most have fallen down though.

 

 

Despite the cloud there were good views from the summit towards Mickle Fell. 

 

Text images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

 

 

Curtiss P40 Tomahawk AH744

As you will probably have noticed on the blog I have visited several air crash sites in the Pennines over the last year or so and recently began recording what is left of them.  Part of my motivation comes from the fact that some of these sites are disappearing due to the actions of collectors - an activity I understand is illegal nowadays without a license. 
 

I have to be honest and say that I have mixed feelings about writing about such sites, which is why I do not provide any location details, but on the other hand I do feel these sites deserve to be recognised as memorials to those who died.  This latter point was brought home to me recently when I was contacted by a relative of a crewmember who lost their life in one of these accidents so that they could visit the place themselves.
 

In April I visited another site, namely that of a Curtiss P40 Tomahawk AH744 that crashed on a remote Teesdale moor on 10th February 1943 while on a training exercise.
 

There is some conflicting information about the aircraft and the reasons why it was actually in the Teesdale area, but the general consensus regarding the accident itself is that the aircraft hit the ground with one of its wings while trying to turn in cloud and then broke up across the moor. 
 

Despite the fact the aircraft had been spotted earlier in the day by a Royal Observer Corps post based in Barnard Castle, continuing poor weather and low cloud hampered the search and it was not until the 13 February that the crash site was spotted from the air.  Once located, a team approached the site on foot, but sadly the 29 year old pilot Flying Officer Henry (Harry) E Wright had not survived the initial impact.
 

Again I only had a very general location for the crash site, but with clear weather did not have too much trouble in finding it. 

 Impact crater

Despite the passing of some 70 years and the actions of collectors who have taken the tail fin, wing, engine and propeller as well as other smaller items it looked as if the accident had only recently occurred.
 

 

 

Wing section.  The dark material is the anti-slip material on the walk area

There are thought to be at least two other crash sites within a few miles of this one, a Tiger Moth NM213 in which the pilot was flung out on impact and survived and a Master T8614 in which the Pilot - 2nd Officer Richard Horry Winn was killed, however the actual locations do not appear to be known. 

Text/images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com.

Video Showreel 2014

First cut of my 2014 Video Showreel.  I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't feel free to leave some constructive comments.   The post will probably disappear when the final cut appears :-)

Scotland North West Wanderings

I am miles behind when it comes to trip reports (20 plus days already) and there is no way I am going to get caught up.  Rather than miss yet another I will just put up a few recently processed images from my last trip up to Scotland.  This wasn't a photography trip so we simply walked, camped and enjoyed the hills without any constraints.

Gairloch Area

As you will probably have noticed on the blog recently I have been recording a number of air crash sites in the North Pennines as they are disappearing fast due to the actions of collectors.  While doing some research on these I also found out about several others in Scotland.  One of these was the crash site on Sidhean Mor of a B-24H Liberator Bomber serial no 42-95095 of the USAAF which crashed on 13th June 1945 killing all on board. 

This incident took place right at the end of the war in Europe as American personnel and resources were either being redeployed for the war in the Pacific, or returned to America.  Details are sketchy, but it would appear the aircraft had developed engine problems and may have actually clipped the top of Slioch as some parts of it were found on the summit.  If that is the case it would certainly have been too low for the crew to abandon the aircraft and they may have been looking to ditch in the sea.  Sadly they did not make it and instead hit the high ground surrounding the Fairy Lochs.  

Propeller with one of the engines behind.

 

There is also a memorial to the crew lower down next to the loch

Assynt

A few days later we headed up to the Assynt area and on the way visited the Inchnadamph bone caves.  If you are ever passing the short walk up is well worth it and it's a place I intend to revisit for some more photography.



One of the entrances to the Inchnadamph bone caves

We did several mountains as well as valley walks in the area, but the best mountain day by far was bagging the three Corbetts of Spidean Coinich, Sail Gorm and Sail Gharbh which make up the Quinag hills. Despite having a rather brief visit to the last summit when the rain came in we had a great time.  The light was rubbish most of the day, but photography took a backseat anyway and we simply enjoyed the hills for the sake of it.  

 

The approach to the final summit of the day Sail Gharbh. 



The view towards Glas Bheinn from the summit of Sail Gharbh.

 The summit of Sail Gharbh with bad weather on the way.



Spidean Coinich, with Suilivan in the distance.  It would have been great to spend more time on the summit but with a thunderstorm looking imminent we abandoned our break on the top and lost height as quickly as possible.  Fortunately the weather broke after we reached the valley.

Coast wise it was wonderful wandering around the machair looking at the wildlife, or simply passing the time watching the waves roll in while beachcombing. 

The flowers were just starting to appear on the Machair

A couple of my favourite seascapes from the trip. 

Sango Bay

Sango Bay

Text images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

 

Memories of Getting High

Sometimes you cannot help but be in a reflective mood when you sit atop some mountain with the breeze on your face and the world laid out at your feet.  The mountains tend to create a mood to reflect, plan and clear the mind.  It's the perfect location to defrag the hard drive of the brain, but that said, it can also be something of a melancholy experience.

The Picos De Europa 

I met a friend I had not seen for perhaps 20 years while on the hill the other day.  We chatted about what we had been up to, compared our ailments, discussed plans for the future and generally caught up.  When we parted I felt really unsettled, almost a sense of loss.  Not for the loss of a friend, but of a lifestyle that had not just slowly slipped away, but simply stopped overnight.  

The year 1995 was a time of wonderful highs in cleanest sense of the word.  By that I don't mean the highs a drug gives you, I mean those life long endorphin highs the mountains give you.  The kind that leave their mark etched on your brain - from mountains hard won, from fears controlled and of friendships and hardships shared.

Of grand routes in southern Spain and Majorca in the spring, and of warm rock and the smell of rosemary and thyme in the hills.  A time when you knew you were truly alive, not just existing. 

 Getting high on the Espolon Central route Puig Campana, Costa Blanca Spain

Route Gubia Normal Gr3, St Gubia Mallorca

Happy

Of nights sleeping below thousand foot faces with nothing but a bivy bag and a down jacket in order to keep the weight down. Cold seeping into the bones, wishing the night away in fitful dreams - half sleeping half awake - who knows? but time passed as it always has. 

And when sleep would not come lying there staring up at a billion stars, listening to the sounds of the mountains, their dark silhouettes etched against the pre-dawn sky. The purr of the stove, endless brews and wondering if the others were awake.  They usually were - well apart from Carl, he always slept. Then still in the dark the act of forcing stiff muscles and cold bones across to the base of the route.

Sunrise striking the tops, but an age away from warming our bodies, instead warmth had to come through activity and those first few shaky pitches.  Confidence rising with the sun as the sun line came down to greet us.  Welcome at first, but with the glare from the limestone it would soon become too hot. 

Picos de Europa

The crux building in the mind with each move, inching forward, the void dragging at your heels. Being careful not to over-reach, use the feet, shake out the arms and clip the pro. Suddenly it's over, big holds, more protection and the tension eases. 

Al on La Nani (D sup), South Face of El Naranjo De Bulness (Pico Urriellu) Picos De Europa

A few more moves and a bomber belay awaits.  Safety checks done, toes on the edge, let the rope take the weight and lean out.  Looking down hundreds of feet past unseen companions somewhere below the overhang. 

More pitches, a bit of banter and laughter and a pause for the odd photo.  Now and again a hint of fear as arms tire and the protection begins to space out. Suddenly shouting in Spanish - a curse, or a warning perhaps, but then the sound of a falling rock thrumming past over to the left. I wonder what the Spanish is for BELOW?  A bit more laughter - nervous this time - but no harm done the overhangs protect us..... for now!

Pitch after pitch, nearly three hundred metres worth. Then the crest, easy scrambling and the summit beckons.  



Approaching the Summit of El Naranjo De Bulness (Pico Urriellu) Picos De Europa 

Suddenly we hear voices, French, Spanish and German perhaps.  It's the summit - cracking views and a little Madonna statue watching over us.  Chatting with the other climbers in a mixture of gestures and badly pronounced language, more laughter, some food and drink - relax - but only a little because the job is only half done.

Time to head down, time to refocus.  An un-roped scramble into the amphitheater, followed by tense abseils to the base of the route.



Nearly there, just about to pull down the last rope and then an unmistakable shout in French from above "ATTENCION".  Stones clattering down, a moments panic and I learn a new Spanish word from the team beside us, "Va, Va" GO, GO and everyone ducks in close to the rock. 

Back to the bivy site we grab some more food and drink and then its the long, long walk back out in the afternoon heat.  A days rest and then do it all again.  I felt as if I was living my life in HD.

Those were the last big routes I ever did and two months later I was in hospital with a knackered back and nerve damage in one leg, waiting for an operation.  It was nothing to do with climbing, just a lifting accident at work that took it all away. It was a lifestyle lost, but it still lives on etched in my mind. 

Text images copyright David Forster

A Lucky Escape and Tragedy in the Yorkshire Dales

The Pennine hills have borne witness to many stories of epic struggles, lucky escapes and of course tragedy.  These stories don't always relate to hill walkers, or other outdoor enthusiasts and it may surprise some to know that aviation plays a significant part in the history of these lonely windswept moors. 

The Pennines have always been a place to fear for aircrew facing bad weather, or mechanical problems and the remains of numerous aircraft that have failed to return to base are testament to this.

I recently planned a walk to explore the area around Castle Bolton and working on the theory that time spent doing research is seldom wasted I managed to find out there were two such air crash sites on the high ground to the north of the village.  One relates to a Gloster Javelin Jet, which crashed in 1959 and the other relates to a DeHavilland Mosquito TA525, which crashed in bad weather in 1946.

My initial plan was to head up Apedale and return via a track which runs from the mining grounds on Bolton Moor back to Dent's house in Apedale and a further look at the map showed I could take in the two sites with only minor detours.

This is open access land and after making my way along Apedale via the bridleway I struck off over the moor to find the general area where the Gloster Javelin came down. 

Being a grouse moor you can never be too sure of the welcome you will receive if you are spotted wandering around well away from established footpaths, but a friendly wave and smile from a passing farmer on his quad bike gave me a little boost of confidence.  I know I have every right to be there but I think I still have a few hang ups from all those years before right to roam where people were regularly hassled by over zealous gamekeepers and landowners who claimed that having people on the moors at any time of year (other than them of course) harmed the wildlife.  Years into the right to roam such opinions are now seen for what they were - rubbish - and if anything the presence of the public is probably helping the wildlife in that we can now see what goes on.

Anyway it was with thoughts like this rattling around my head that I continued on my way.  Weather wise while the sun was shining the wind was pretty strong at times and on a couple of occasions I was blown completely to a standstill.  Fortunately the wind unintentionally helped me and as I moved up towards some grouse butts I heard the clack clack of metal hitting metal carried on the wind.  After a bit of a scramble out of a deep peat hag I spotted the wreckage scattered across the fell side about twnety meters away. 

A general view of the crash site with one of aircrafts tyres

This was the site of the Gloster Javelin F.A.W Mk.5 XA662 of 228 Operational Conversion Unit which crashed here 29th September 1959.  The story behind the incident is that the crew took off from RAF Leeming and while over the North York Moors one of the engines developed a fault.  A short time later the second engine was also shut down due to a fire warning.  Fortunately the crew - Flying Officer C P Cowper and navigator Cpt R E Nietz successfully ejected from the aircraft and survived. 

Engine Jet-Pipe

The wreckage is pretty extensive and spread over an area of around 200m.  The engine jet-pipe is perhaps the largest visible component at around 10 feet long. 

 

 

Close up view of the Jet-Pipe

Many components are partly buried

The occasional rattle caused by the two pieces of metal above that kept hitting each other in the strong gusts gave the place a bit of an eerie feel and after grabbing a series of shots I soon moved on.

Joe Bosher gives a short account of his role as a member of the RAF recovery team here.

http://74th.co.uk/raf/service/castlebolton.html

The second aircraft lay a just over a kilometre as the crow flies on the other side of the hill, however as I also wanted to visit some of the mine workings here I struck off across the moor to have a look at these first.  Unfortunately very little remains of these other than collapsed shafts and spoil heaps and any photographic potential I thought they might have had when looking at the map was pretty limited, especially so considering it was midday and the light was rather harsh. 

Heading south I soon came across the shooting track which was followed for a kilometre or so to the area where the second aircraft lay.  Despite only having a general location for the aircraft I soon found the site.

This and some more wreckage further along the scar is all that remains of the De Havilland Mosquito TA525 which crashed here in thick cloud on the 14th February 1946, killing the 27 year old Dutch pilot Sgt Gebines La Hei instantly.  It is thought that Air Traffic Control had actually instructed him to climb but he did not manage to do so in time.

 

 

There is no memorial here only a pleasant view down the valley and the sad realisation that in those conditions there was little room for error and he probably only had seconds to react. 

There is a little more about the pilot and the incident itself here

http://www.yorkshire-aircraft.co.uk/aircraft/planes/dales/ta525.html


Text images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com