Skip to main content

Walks round reservoirs

In Texas, state parks are the main way of getting out into some countryside, and they are almost invariably centred around a reservoir.  Back in the UK, the network of public footpaths means that you don't have to go to a designated area to walk around.  However, a proper country footpath often involves mud, brambles, stiles and other such pushchair-unfriendly obstacles, so we have found that, even here, reservoirs are still quite useful, not to mention beautiful, places to walk.



A few weeks ago we visited Staunton Harold reservoir, just south of here.  Rain and snow had fallen overnight and frozen, so the visitor centre car park was closed, and the circular southern car park, when we found it, was doing an excellent impression of a skating rink.  Having slid the car into a parking space, we skied gingerly down an icy hill, and a beautiful vista of the lake opened up before us.


We might have been content to drink in the view for a while, but Toby took one look and demanded a peanut butter sandwich.  Grudgingly, we turned away and set about pushing the stroller through slush and snow.



A couple of swans greeted us, and the sparkling white fields shone in the morning sunshine.





The footpath, meanwhile, was varying between stream, mud and rocks, and the beauty was somewhat lost on us as we wrestled with the wheels and tried to keep a cranky toddler happy.  Getting back to all this lovely countryside is definitely not quite the same when you are parents of a two-year-old, rather than free and single and able to walk all day if you feel like it!


In the opposite direction, northwest towards the Peak District, is Carsington Water.  We drove up between verges dotted with white snowdrops and fields dotted with white sheep, and enjoyed a relatively warm sunny day.  An old tower used for army training (signposted: "Bomb Tower") made a sheltered spot to stop for a snack, and the Miners Arms pub in Carsington village provided the adults with coffee and Toby with a slide.





Returning to the visitors' centre, we investigated Stone Island.  Pillars are arranged along two spiral paths up a small mound, and a hole bored through each one focuses your view on part of the landscape.  We conscientiously squinted through every rock before retreating to the ice cream shop for a more tasty investigation.






Happily immersed in chocolate, vanilla, and mint choc chip, we sat back and admired the view.



Comments

Ellie said…
Gorgeous pictures, yes beautiful English countryside isn't very compatible with buggies! We always seem to end up at National Trust places or Ashton Court as they have good wheelchair/buggy accessible paths. Hope you're getting settled back in the UK. Ellie

Popular posts from this blog

Growing things

For those of you who are interested in my attempts at balcony gardening, I thought I'd update you a little. For those who aren't, don't skip this post. You may find something else of interest. Apart from the ever-present herbs, tomatoes and cayenne peppers are on the go this year. The peppers are really on the go - we went away for a week and came back to find them twice the size as when we left. Now they're producing fruit which is growing at a similarly rapid rate, though none has ripened to red yet. I realised I should have given you some kind of scale, so I just went out and measured. They're about 22 cm long, or 8 1/2 inches for you non-metric types. I may have to find out how to dry peppers if they all ripen at once. A couple of tomato plants are looking pretty healthy and beginning to flower. A few died; one, apparently, by being eaten whole by a bird, a trouble I've never had before. I had two seedlings left so used those as replacements, b...

Hosting Thanksgiving

OK, I have to confess.  This will be a very boring Thanksgiving story.  Everything went right and it was a lovely day.  For an interesting story you need a few things going wrong.  I heard a couple of interesting stories this year - like the one about mis-measuring bourbon to go in the stuffing.  Apparently if you put far too much in, all the alcohol doesn't boil off.  Or the one about going to cook dinner at an Asian friend's house, and discovering at the last minute that she doesn't have any baking trays, and it's quite difficult to roast a turkey in a wok.  But as I said, we didn't have so much as a lumpy gravy panic. Where's my food??? We're working on it, baby! So what do you want to know?  Well, it was my first Thanksgiving dinner cooked on American soil.  Back when I was free and single and shared a house with lots of people who liked to eat, I got into the habit of celebrating the American feast for a few years, until the...

On having an accent

Back in the olden days, when it was a major undertaking to get from, say, Bristol to London, or even Bristol to Weston-super-Mare, and so most people didn't bother, it is said that you could place people within 10 miles or so by their accent. Now that we've built motorways and everyone spends their days whizzing up and down them, you have to go a bit further to get your accent noticed, but moving 3700 miles from Bristol to Texas certainly does the trick. Of course, I don't really have an accent - I speak quite normally, thank you very much, but everyone else talks funny around here, so naturally I stand out as different. It's been a strange experience to be marked out the minute I open my mouth. About the second thing everyone says to me is, "You're not from around here" or, "Where are you from?" Even though we talk the same language (well, almost), the way I speak says I'm a newbie, a stranger, something exotic. Fortunately the thir...