- BECAUSE THEY'RE THERE is about climbing mountains – nothing else. Well, actually, there are one or two other things. But it's mostly about climbing mountains. And fish and chips. And politics. And doing a bit of fell running. And wondering where the hell your life's gone – and where it might be going next. And cooking kippers in a wet tent. And people you bump into who do similar things. Actually, that last one doesn't happen very often . . .
Top Posts & Pages
- Sutton Bank, Witches and Featherless Geese
- Forever Changing – Broad Majestic Duddon
- London 5: Butchers, Saints and Sinners
- London 4: William Morris and a Wander Through Walthamstow
- London 3: A Cold Wet Walk for Pie and Mash
- I Must Go Down to South Gare Again . . .
- Only a Rosedale, I give you . . .
- Mud: It’s Alive and Sticking
- A Blackpowder Blast From the Past
- Day Return to Bloworth Crossing . . . and Beyond
- Stanwick Camp – A Thorn in the Foot
- Circling the Wagons Beneath High Noon Hill
- Climbing Cielo – as Swallows Come Back to Capistrano
- In the Realms of Glory on Cerro del Trevenque
- Hambleton Hills – A Walk and a Sonnet
CAPE WRATH TRAIL
Copyright© Alen McFadzean and Because They're There, 2009-2013. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alen McFadzean and Because They're There with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Category Archives: Ranting
A WIND to slice ears off whips across the entrance to Walthamstow Central tube station. The temperature is below zero degrees Centigrade and snow settles behind chimney stacks on bleak roofs. This is London at Easter. There are no bunnies … Continue reading
THE worst weather is wet snow. It saps the spirit and soaks through to the shoulders. When it whips off a river on an easterly wind it stings and sucks life from fingers and feet. Just as well we’re searching … Continue reading
MUD. Don’t go there except with your feet. Let it fill your boots and stick like it’s supposed to. But don’t delve any deeper unless you want a shovelful of acronyms . . .
IT’S one of those days when nothing goes right, when the most straightforward of plans unravels and you stand in mist and rain with water trickling down your neck, and wonder what possessed you to swing your legs out of … Continue reading
Don’t ever, ever, ever, say the slog from Cow Green to High Cup is devoid of interest . . . Continue reading
LUCERO is a prominent pyramid of baked rock that looks ten times more a mountain than nearly everything twice, three times and four times its size. The approaches from the south are long and incredibly steep. From the north, though, … Continue reading
BEINN Á GHLO is a fine massif. It rises above Glen Garry in a series of stony peaks and ridges that swoop into wild country away to the east. There are three Munros in this majestic group of hills – … Continue reading
Walking with 80 banners, 50 bands and the Durham miners . . . Continue reading
SO I’m sitting at work doing my job – which consists of creating and editing the national news pages of The Northern Echo and one or two other things – when my eyes alight on a story from the Press … Continue reading
A walk through the East End in search of the unusual – and a good pint . . . Continue reading