Book Review: On Sacred Ground by Andrew Terrill

On Sacred Ground is the second part of Andrew Terrill’s story of his epic 7000 mile walk from the toe of Italy to the northern tip of Norway. The first book, The Earth Beneath My Feet, told the story of the walk up Italy and through the Alps. On Sacred Ground takes up the story in deep winter in the Austrian Alps and follows the author through Germany to Denmark and then up the length of Norway to the Arctic, the sacred ground of the title.

The story of this astonishing walk is enthralling and gripping as the author describes the difficulties and dangers, the high points and low points. Physically and mentally this was a challenging walk. Terrill is walking to experience wild nature and his route stays away from towns and roads as far as possible and he camps at night. Indeed, the camps are important and he names each one.

Much of the walk takes place in winter and the extreme cold, deep snow, and often stormy weather are a huge challenge, requiring skill and fortitude. Terrill has the ability to draw the reader into the story, so much so that at times I almost forgot he did survive some of the incidents. I shivered at points reading the book!

Norway is the climax to the walk and the book. As he heads north through the spring – almost as difficult as the winter with the remaining deep snow and a big thaw – so his mood expands until the Arctic is reached and the intensity of the author’s feelings carry the reader on through the glorious Norwegian north to an ecstatic finish at the North Cape.

On Sacred Ground, along with The Earth Beneath My Feet, is one of the best books on a long-distance walk I’ve read, up there with  the works of Colin Fletcher and Hamish Brown. I can give it no higher praise. 

This review first appeared in The Great Outdoors magazine.

 I reviewed The Earth Beneath My Feet here.

On Sacred Ground and The Earth Beneath My Feet are published by Enchanted Rock Press and available on Amazon at £14.95 paperback, £25.85 hardback, and £6.99 Kindle each. 

December Darkness

Grant Park Lochan - 'the skating pond', Grantown-on-Spey

Since the snow thawed last week darkness has fallen on the land. At least that's how it feels. I had forgotten just how much brightness snow brings to the short daylight hours and weak low sun of December. Not that the latter has been visible anyway. Dark clouds have covered the sky, adding to the gloom. At midday it has felt barely light, more like dawn or dusk than noon.

Heron & Mallard

The snow melting has been good for wildlife though.  Food is more easily available and nights are warmer. Lochs and lochans are no longer frozen, or only partially so. On a walk through Anagach Woods and beside the River Spey I watched a heron standing motionless in the faded reeds around Grant Park Lochan (known locally as the skating pond) while Mallard ducks swam and dabbled in the still ice-spattered water. 

River Spey

Along the Spey there was no sign of ice, the river dark, full, and fast, rushing snowmelt from the hills down to the sea. Out on the water there many ducks, Goldeneye as well as Mallard. I watched them through binoculars as they drifted with the current then flew low back to their start point. No photographs - I hadn't brought the big lens and they were all on the far side of the wide river. I saw dippers too, and a big raptor flying fast through the trees. Buzzard? Red Kite? Too brief and partial a glimpse to be sure.

At times I could see distant hills, still streaked with snow. High up the thaw will be slow. Walking beside the swirling river, watching the birds and the clouds, the trees and the hills, I felt peaceful. It may be December, it may be dark, but nature is still beautiful. There will be more snow.

A Sparrowhawk Visits

Sparrowhawks regular raid the bird feeders in our garden, usually flashing round the side of the house and scattering the finches and tits. Sometimes they catch a bird, sometimes not, sometimes we're not sure as it all happens so fast. Then there is quiet for ten minutes or so before the first little bird, usually a Coal Tit, flies in and grabs a sunflower seed. Whilst we'd rather not see one of the birds killed we accept that this is how nature works and the Sparrowhawks need to eat.

Sometimes a Sparrowhawk fails to catch something and instead of flying off hangs around, sitting on the feeders and watching the trees and bushes where, I guess, it knows its prey is hiding. When this happens it's worse overall for the small birds than when the Sparrowhawk catches one of them as it prevents them returning to feed. This is especially so if the hawk spends much time doing so and also repeatedly fails to catch anything.

This happened a few times recently, during the cold spell when the garden was white with snow and the temperature never rose above freezing. For several days we saw a Sparrowhawk repeatedly fly in, catch nothing, and then perch on the feeders for a while.

One day it stayed for half an hour or so, occasionally shifting from one feeder to another and sometimes swooping rather slowly and lazily towards a bush and then returning to a perch. 

I think it's a young one, which probably explains its lack of success. Being able to watch it for so long and take some photographs was wonderful. With its beautiful plumage, yellow feet with long curved talons, and intense stare it's a magnificent bird. I hope it has enough success hunting to survive the winter.

Last Day of the Cold Spell?

Across the frozen forests to the cloud-shrouded Cairngorms

Today was probably the last day of snow and frost for a while. For the first time in over a week the temperature is rising above freezing and rain is forecast.

Frosted trees

This splendid cold spell ended with a glorious day of sunshine and frost. After a day of fog the sky cleared and hoar frost formed on the trees, turning them a delicate feathery white again.

The low sun colours the clouds

My boots crunched through the crisp snow as I wandered the fields and woods. The sun had a touch of warmth in it and I removed my gloves and undid the top of my jacket. I soon reversed this in shady areas.

The Cromdale Hills

The Cromdale Hills shone white under a brilliant blue sky. The Cairngorms though were hidden in cloud.

Sunset

Slowly the sky began to darken and the clouds on the horizon turn orange as the sun sank to the horizon. Streaks of wispy higher cloud marked the start of the change in the weather. Tomorrow the world will be different.

Frost, snow, mist, cloud

Frosted birches

Frosted birch

 

Six Days In The Life Of A Birch Tree: Photo-Essay

After the first light snowfall. November 29.

In the field outside our house there's a lone birch tree growing in the remnants of a tumbledown stone wall. We've watched it slowly grow for over thirty years and I've photographed it many times as it changes with the seasons. Usually the changes are slow, buds changing to leaves in the early spring, leaves slowly opening as spring progresses, leaves darkening at the height of summer, leaves slowly turning gold in the autumn, leaves falling. Then a long period of winter stasis for three months, a stasis only broken by snowfall and frost. But when the latter come the birch can change appearance extremely fast and take on a magical look it never has otherwise.

During heavier snow. November 30.

This was the case over six days as November ended and December began. The first snowfall of the winter transformed the birch tree over six days from a dark silhouette to an enchanted snow-draped whiteness. As the snow and frost accumulated the tree grew in size and changed shape as the branches drooped under the weight. 

After the snow. December 2.

The snow builds up. December 2.

On the day when this reached its magnificent maximum I walked round the birch, entanced by its ethereal beauty.

December 3.

December 3.

December 3.

December 3.

Then overnight it was all gone. A slight rise in temperature, though it stayed below freezing, a slight breeze and the tree returned to how it been just six days earlier. The ephemeral magic was over. Never again will the tree look exactly like did for these few days.

December 4

A Look At The January Issue Of The Great Outdoors & A TGO Video Review

The next issue of The Great Outdoors is out now. I have three reviews inside - Keen WK400 Walking Shoes, Columbia Mazama Trail Waterproof Jacket, and Shokz OpenFit Ear Buds. 

Also in the gear pages Kirsty Pallas and James Roddie each review four winter sleeping bags, and Fiona Russell and Peter Macfarlane each review three pairs of winter gloves. 

There are two big features on bothies. Juls Stobel writes about spending a night in each of the 104 shelters maintained by the Mountain Bothies Association while James Forrest and Jessie Leong spend a night in Warnscale Head Bothy in the Lake District.

In a superb photo-essay David Lintern shares a selection of a decade of images of winter in the Cairngorms National Park.

Far from the cold and the snow Ian Battersby describes a traverse of the length of the subtropical island of Madeira with his two sons. 

Creator of the Month is Phoebe Sleath, an artist and mountain leader who studies the language of landscape through field paintings. The Opinion column is by Jon Moses, organiser of the Right to Roam campaign, who argues that the right to roam can benefit everyone including rural communities. On the New Books page Kirsty Pallas reviews Mike Raine's The Mountain Leader. Jim Perrin's Mountain Portrait is about Yr Eifl in Eryri. 

In the Skills section Fell Foodie Harrison Ward gives advice on how to cook better backpacking meals.

In Scotland Wild Walks sees Richard Hartfield visiting MacCulloch's Fossil Tree on the Isle of Mull, Roger Butler using historic stalkers' paths on Sgorr a' Mhaoraich in the North-West Highlands, and Alex Roddie having day on Kinperney Hill in Angus. In Cumbria Ian Battersby visits High Cup Nick and in the Lake District Ronald Turnbull takes the boat to Aira Force for an ascent of Helvellyn, and Vivienne Crow walks the Scandale Round. In North Yorkshire Ian Battersby finds snow and relics of a bygone age on Fremington Edge and Calver Hill. In Eryri/Snowdonia Andrew Galloway finds a tale of murder in the Dyfi Forest while down on Dartmoor Tom Gent ponders another troubling event from the past on the Liberty Walk. Fiona Barltrop also steps back in time on a walk over Blackcap & Mount Harry Beacon on the South Downs.

I also have a review that isn't in the print magazine - because it's a video. This is the one I made with videographer Jordan Tiernan at the end of October. I wrote about the trip in this post.

Meall a' Bhuchaille in the snow on the first day of December

View to Cairn Gorm & The Northern Corries

December begins and the land is white. After the snow that fell at the end of November the temperature dropped and it’s been below freezing ever since. Winter is here. Dense fog sometimes fills the air. Sometimes the sun shines bright, casting an illusion of warmth.

My recuperation from the operation (non-serious but essential) in early November I decided on a longer hill walk than the short local one I did ten days ago. Since then I have stuck to little walks without a pack in the fields and woods by my house. A long winter day out with a full winter pack was probably unwise so I decided on an afternoon walk through Ryvoan Pass and over Meall a’Bhuachaille. I never need an excuse to do this lovely walk!

After sunset on Meall a' Bhuachaille

With snow down to glen level I still took an ice axe along with micro spikes rather than heavier crampons. The snow shovel stayed at home too. My pack still weighed 8kg. I hoped it wasn’t too much.

An Lochan Uaine

Last time I did this walk, back in October, the autumn colours were at their height. Now the trees are thick with snow. As there’s been no wind it has stuck to the trees, bending the branches and creating weird and wonderful ethereal shapes. An Lochan Uaine (the Green Lochan) was blue rather than green, reflecting the sky. Many people were here, enjoying the winter beauty. The air was cold but calm.

Approaching the summit

Beyond the lochan I met few others. Once I started up Meall a’Bhuachaille I met no-one until the summit, where a solitary walker was enjoying the sunset.

Mist fills Strathspey

Across Glenmore Cairn Gorm and the Northern Corries were catching the last of the setting sun. Drifting clouds were turning pink and orange. Looking the other way I could see mist filling Strathspey. From up here it looked impressive. Driving home slowly through it later on it didn’t seem so attractive.

Keeping warm

The summit was bitterly cold, a light breeze numbing exposed skin. I was very glad of the down jacket I’d brought. Out to the west I could see mist beginning to form in the glens.

Loch Morlich

Across silvery Loch Morlich the silent woods and hills were pale and grey below the orange horizon. On the descent I was glad of my trekking poles as the snow was slippery in places, especially lower down where it was thinner and slid easily off the stone steps of the path. I didn’t need my micro spikes or ice axe but I might have done.

Jupiter

I reached the forest as the bright spot of the planet Jupiter appeared above the shoulder of Meall a’Bhuachaille. The last light had gone now and I finished the walk by the light of my headlamp in the dark forest. It had been a glorious walk.