Glen Dhoo

A walk of more ups than downs?

 

Monday, 15th April, 2013

 

Dorothy is back from the Lakes and sent an email on Sunday - "How about a walk tomorrow from the Car Park at Ballaugh Plantation.   Up the Glendhoo and stream etc."

 

It was Danny's turn to supervise the walk and he indulged in his usual hysterical excitement while we were getting ready to go.  Then he seemed to have last minute doubts when I went down to open the gate.  I told him to get in the car but he ran up the steps in front of the house and sat down outside the front door.  Perhaps he remembered the whippets and the snow on his last walk.

 

We started off up the path through Ballaugh Plantation.  Pockets of snow were still visible on the side of the hills and there were broken conifer branches and ivy littering the path.  Probably the result of the heavy snow at the end of March, but some could have come down in the gales last night.  Then we turned down a forestry track to join the rough road to Glen Dhoo.

 

There is a rather photogenic ruined farmhouse in Glen Dhoo. 

 

 

 

In front of the ruin there is a large piece of slate which acts as a footbridge over the stream.  Perhaps the last sentence should have been in the past tense because most of the "bridge" was under water.  We thought the water might be higher than usual but after a closer look we saw that one end of the slate had broken.  It is a pity because this route across the stream has probably been used ever since the farmhouse was built.

 

 

This is a view of the bridge from 2011.

We walked upstream until we found a place where the stream was narrow enough to jump over; and then followed the path alongside the stream past the old mill.  The walk got more strenuous when we turned off the path to follow a tributary of the Glen Dhoo stream - after jumping back over the main stream.  The little tributary cascades down a steep slope in a series of small waterfalls.  There is no proper path - so we follow the route taken by the mountain sheep.

 

 

 

It was rather frustrating trying to take photos during the climb.  We were climbing directly towards the sun which was still low in the sky.  Tim took this photo which has a rather interesting effect caused by sun shining on the lens. 

 

 

I stopped above the plantation where the ground levels off to see whether I could find any evidence of a hut circle or shieling which is marked on the map in this area.   I have been trying to find them for years - without success.  The remains of these old summer dwellings are barely visible mounds at the best of times - and the locations vary on different maps.   The damp hillside was covered with a soft layer of dense moss and Danny, who finds hut circles very boring, thought it was an excellent place for a nap.

 

 

 

I am not very good at identifying mosses and grasses but I think this hummock of unusually coloured moss could be Sphagnum capillifolium

 

 

 

After this it was a case of onwards and upwards towards the top of Slieau Dhoo.  Dorothy and I discussed the mystery of why a walk can start and end at the same place and yet create the illusion of twice as much climbing as descending.  It defies logic.   The climb was even harder than usual because we were walking into a gusty headwind and there was no path through the heather.

 

Even Danny was running out of energy.  His legs are too short to walk over the tall heather and he had to jump over the clumps.  Tim took pity on him and carried him part of the way until I found a sheep path which made the going easier.  Eventually we reached the dub at the top of Slieau Dhoo.  It is 1417 feet above sea level and over a thousand feet above the glen where we started climbing.

 

We made our way down from the summit through more heather, stopping briefly to take a photo of the bank of hill fog shrouding Snaefell behind the Sulby Dam . . .

 

 

 

. . . until we reached the Slieau Curn track.  Looking back at Slieau Dhoo it was easy to see why it got its name which means Black (or dark) Mountain in Manx.  At this time of year the heather looks almost black.

 

 

 

The Slieau Curn track was closed but I think the closure applies only to vehicles.  It is one of many upland Greenway Roads that  have been badly damaged by scrambler bikes and is very rutted.  For part of the way we were accompanied by a wheatear, which flitted ahead of us perching briefly on clumps of gorse and heather.  Tim wondered whether it was trying to attract us away from its nesting site.  I checked in my bird book and found that this habit of acting as a pacesetter for walkers is a favourite wheatear trick.  Wheatears are among the first of the summer migrants to arrive in the British Isles in spring. 

 

We walked down the hill until we reached a path to the right, leading back towards Glen Dhoo.  Here we were sheltered from the wind and the sun was warm.    A field with the cutest little new lambs added to the feeling that spring may have arrived.

 

 

 

It should have been an easy stroll back to the cars but the path below the Slieau Curn plantation was blocked by fallen trees.  Tim said that it was like an assault course.  We crawled under some of the trees and climbed over others.

 

 

 

Before we reached the ruined farmhouse we noticed a rough stile over the fence into the valley below and decided to try that path because of the difficulty crossing the stream now that the slate bridge is out of action.  It was pleasant walking through the trees.  When we reached the stream we found a crude bridge - a couple of old logs well above the water, another log at water level, slimy but stronger, and a slatted wooden structure half under the water.  I decided to edge my way across the slippery log while holding onto the higher ones, so I threw my stick and the dog lead across onto the opposite bank.  I managed to get across and Trevor gave me a helping hand to get up the bank.  Tim managed to get across carrying Danny.

 

When I looked for my stick, it had disappeared.  Dorothy said that she thought it had slipped down the bank when I threw it across.  The water was running fast and was deep so I was reconciled to losing the stick  Then Dorothy suddenly saw the tip just above water level and Trevor climbed down the bank and retrieved it.  They are very good friends to have along on a hike.