Hike #2: Hell's Mouth to Portreath
(This hike, right here, is the very beginning of our nasty habit of skipping from section to section as if we had not a strategy in mind, leaving gaps of all sizes between paths we'd finished and those still left to do. There is no truly sensible reason except that sometimes bus routes and timetables dictated where and when we walked. Mostly though, it was whim.)
Because of the landslide, we will always remember this hike. Not that we were there the day it happened you understand, but we were there just one year after—a blip in time geologically—so we feel entitled to be a part of it all. Special, don't you know. Here's what happened:
Monday, 9/19/11: Hiker reports a large crack on the coastal path. Later that day, Cornwall Council diverts the path.
Tuesday, 9/20/12: (This is where we come in, albeit one year later) We walk right by same spot and take a photo.
Thursday, 9/22/11: Cornwall Council completes more surveys; notes that large tension cracks are opening up.
Friday, 9/24/11: Throughout day hikers report material falling from cliff. At about 4:50 p.m., Cornwall Council engineers Richard Hocking and Brian O'Connell happen to be onsite with a camera. This is what they filmed:
Monday, 9/19/11: Hiker reports a large crack on the coastal path. Later that day, Cornwall Council diverts the path.
Tuesday, 9/20/12: (This is where we come in, albeit one year later) We walk right by same spot and take a photo.
Thursday, 9/22/11: Cornwall Council completes more surveys; notes that large tension cracks are opening up.
Friday, 9/24/11: Throughout day hikers report material falling from cliff. At about 4:50 p.m., Cornwall Council engineers Richard Hocking and Brian O'Connell happen to be onsite with a camera. This is what they filmed:
According to Environment Agency spokesman Paul Gainey, "Coastal rock falls like this are caused by a combination of factors. It's wave and wind action: the waves erode the foot of the cliff and undermine it. Wind buffets the cliff and erodes it away.” Now we know.
And here is Bob standing right there where all the excitement went down. Helpfully, there's a South West Coast website with a page that lists known path diversions, tricky spots, and maintenance being done.
We learn quickly that getting from one cliff top to the next is hard work.
The climbs up are the don't-look-up-just-watch-your-feet-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other-surely-this-will-end kind, and the scrambles down make you sharply aware of just how many individual parts a knees is made of, and that each part complains in its own special way.
Those paths that look so innocently like shortcuts? They're not. This photo is looking back, catching our breath after painfully barreling down that shortcut and then slogging our way up the steps from hell. We'll be bent over for quit a few seconds.
But the views make it all worthwhile. Well, mostly. Many are the times we just want the path to end.
Finally, we see Portreath. We're a bit grumpy; one of us more so than the other.
I find these fellas a bit disconcerting. I never actually heard of a wild pony attacking anyone, but they are watching us pretty closely, probably guarding that one on the ground...taking a snooze? Giving birth? Dead? We don't stay around to investigate.
Further reading informs us that the ponies aren't there just for fun. They play an important role in managing the heathland habitats: their grazing helps keep the more vigorous plants in check and creates a balanced mix of taller bushes, bare ground, and close cropped areas. Who knew? Circle of life stuff is everywhere.
Further reading informs us that the ponies aren't there just for fun. They play an important role in managing the heathland habitats: their grazing helps keep the more vigorous plants in check and creates a balanced mix of taller bushes, bare ground, and close cropped areas. Who knew? Circle of life stuff is everywhere.
We flag the next bus to St Ives, where we slosh down a few drinks and some seriously unhealthy portions of fish & chips.
