Introduction:
As I write this the last
lingering warmth of summer has dissipated into the windblown grey rains of
autumn. This seasonal change is one of
the beauties of living as it replenishes life, which then fades, only to be
renewed. This seasonal change can be
viewed as a metaphor for life itself, or more so for those lost loves and
rekindled friendships that follow us through life’s great journey, as some ebb
and flow, others disappear and are no more, whilst some are renewed and occasionally
intensify with an unbridled passion for new life.
I’ve found writing to be
part cathartic, part enjoyment and part pain in the arse as inspiration can be
difficult to find on occasion, but when inspiration is there, it can blossom in
all manner of weird and wonderful ways.
I’ve also found that when writing one should be as honest and open as
one can, this can be easily filed under catharsis, however this need for cathartic
honesty does not manifest itself very often when writing about surveying a
hill, but this article necessitates an honesty that as of yet I do not know
where it will take me. But I’m going to
give it a go and hope that the inspiration that I now feel can manifest itself
in an honesty that will heal wounds that appeared many a year ago, and although
wounds can be repaired their after affects can be on view either externally or
in the case of lost loves, internally.
These brief introductory
paragraphs have touched upon lost loves, but what of the rekindled
friendships? These come in many forms,
where anticipation creates levels of excitement seldom experienced, they can
also be unexpected and short lived. Each
can be fulfilling but few maintain a level where friendships from years gone by
are rekindled through communication, giving time for understanding of humour
and character to flourish.
Many lost loves and
friendships that are rekindled are based on encounters that can be traced back
to formative years of adolescence and young adult life when the world seemingly
explodes with opportunity. These encounters are sometimes planned,
occasionally they just happen or they form out of the wants of life, when
groups of people are put together. The
usual place for the adolescent meetings when relationships and friendships are
formed is during the schooling years of one’s life. These are usually hectic with a semblance of
study and a sprinkling of alcohol and snogging.
This is when many an important encounter originally takes place.
Although I’ve tried to
introduce this article based around its title, I do not know if I am succeeding
as I occasionally ramble and dance around the edges, instead of throwing myself
into the fray, so let’s stop the dance and let’s get flung into the fray and
see where I end up. This article concerns itself with two members of the Evans
clan. For the purposes of this article
this clan consists of two sisters, one I was in school with and the other I
fell in love with. These two sisters are
from good mid Walian farming stock; their names are Louise and Helen with Lou
being the elder by 27 months.
I remember Lou as a
quiet, slender girl in school, somewhat unassuming but pleasantly approachable. We dated once in the local cinema when
viewing the Eiger Sanction seemed of little concern, I have only just
apologised for my actions from that evening, oh the fumbling of adolescent
youth. In later years I was somewhat
shocked to find that Lou spent some of her schooling years snogging older boys
whilst wrapped up in sleeping bags during 24-hour charity football
marathons. I remember Helen as Lou’s
younger sister who looked drop dead gorgeous in an impish sort of way.
At the age of 15 I went
to France on a school exchange trip and stayed in a large, old farmhouse with a
welcoming family. Lou also went on this
exchange trip and we both have photographs showing our friends from school
wearing the widest Oxford Bags and winged collared shirts that mid 1970’s
fashion would allow. This trip to France
brings back many happy memories that in part have been rekindled from
photographs that we both have.
During later school
years we drifted apart, after school I remained in my home town and got a job,
whilst Lou went off to more exciting climes of college life. We were brought together by Helen, who
invited me to a house party where copious amounts of snogging then took place.
As my relationship with
Helen started she was living in Manchester in her brother’s house with
Lou. I remember my first visit to this
house to stay the weekend and finding that Lou had blossomed into an attractive
gazelle of a creature. However, those
school day encounters and their periphery impressions were again shocked into
the present to find that Lou now smoked, surely not…. Lou, smoking…. never, but
there she was puffing away. Oh the
innocence of formative school years when encounters make lasting impressions.
As my relationship with
Helen continued she asked if I wanted to live with her in a house in a near
town. We stayed there for a few months
and then moved into a house toward the top of a country lane above where her
Mum and Dad farmed.
Between these two moves
we went on holiday to Greece with Lou coming along as chaperone. I stayed for just over three weeks with the
two sisters, whilst they remained in Greece for a full month. We travelled around the mainland before
island hopping from Santorini to Crete.
It was joyous, warm, and culturally magnificent and eye openingly
appealing, especially when we visited Paleochora in southern Crete and spent a
number of days naked on a beach getting fried to a cinder in the increasingly
warm weather.
Memories of Greece |
However, all good things
come to an end, and for me my little world of love was soon to come a crumbling
around me. When Helen finished our
relationship I was devastated and wallowed in unknown emotional turmoil that I
had not experienced before, and seldom experienced since. Now I know how driven this younger Evans
sister is, and I can see a life near to where she was born and brought up was
not for her, I partly knew this when we were together but did not have the
maturity to understand the intricacies of life and relationships and the impact
that love can have upon those emotional heartstrings. Oh the devastation and hurt.
As well as losing Helen
I also lost contact with Lou. This is
only natural when a relationship ends, as each individual meanders back to life
pre-relationship, and Lou’s life was firmly placed beside Helen.
Years then passed, and I
discovered the hills and the beauty and fulfilment that they give. My life also discovered a new love which
lasted for many years, but again it left me with pain and suffering and the
need for unbridled wallowing where tears were a plenty. During these years I’d heard that Helen was
married, divorced, married again and now living in Australia, whilst Lou, continued being an enigma in her own lunchtime, waiting, for life to happen.
It seemed our lives
continued without each other, as lives are prone to do. When this happens it is only circumstance
that throws people together, and that circumstance happened through a friend
request on the GJ Surveys Facebook page.
As I accessed the FB site I recognised the profile picture of Lou’s
smiling face next to that of Helen’s, the two Evans sisters together on one
profile picture. I pressed ‘Confirm’ and
Lou and I started communicating via FB, these were just a few lines at first
which seems to be the norm on Facebook.
Soon, however, we had swapped email addresses and away we went. It seemed that there was initial exploration
of character before one humorously buoyant email flowed into the next. There was banter a plenty in these emails
where ideas and rib pokes would be thrown from one to the other and back again,
between the banter there were other moments when Lou proclaimed the virtues of
Stuart Maconie and related the shouting emanating from her flat when ‘the
lovely boys’ beat their neighbours at the beautiful game one fine day at
Twickenham. I soon noticed that I would
switch my laptop on in the morning ready to extol the virtues of life, the
hills and having a Trimble, but would find myself being drawn toward my email
‘Inbox’ looking for the word ‘Louise’.
(L-R) Louise and Helen |
Our Lou was now living
in Worcester and working in finance and insurance in Birmingham, catching a god
forsaken early train each working morning and making her way around the corner
from the recently redeveloped New Street Station to her 1st floor
office. She was still in contact with
her old love; Jim, from Manchester days, now married with children,
he was also working in Birmingham and they would meet for lunch to enjoy
the essence of lifelong friendship.
As our email exchange
progressed Lou invited me to stay and suggested a walk on the Malvern Hills. She described herself as not being outdoorsy
and was now living with an injured back; I offered a piggy back if the going
got rough.
On The Hill
We met at the North
Quarry car park in North Malvern, she entered the fray with effervescence
reminiscent of a teenager, with smiles, waving arms and dancing poses. Some, although not all, captured on
camera. It was great to see her and we
hugged. It seemed as if I had been
transported back thirty years as here beside me was this intelligent,
attractive gazelle of a creature bombarding me with ready wrapped rolls and a
multitude of smiles, I had an urge to squeeze her legs which looked incredibly
slender.
The photo is all the better for being out of focus |
Leaving Lou’s personally
initialised number plated car at North Quarry car park I drove south to Upper
Wyche where we parked and started our ascent of Worcestershire Beacon. This hill is the highest in the Malvern Hills
and also within the county of Worcestershire.
As we walked arm in arm a number of dog walkers and push chair pushers
past us, we soon stopped and sat on a bench for our continued nattering and reminiscing,
although surprisingly there was little of the latter. We continued our stroll up the hill, with
lots of chat and an occasion back stretch from Lou and a bit of a puff
emanating from me.
Over the last week or so
the weather had been beautifully warm with slight cooling breeze on the hills,
and blue skied happiness above. These
conditions gave early morning mist that usually rose and burnt off by
mid-day. However, today’s late morning
saw the mist rise and embed itself firmly in cloud that although above the
local hill tops, remained firmly in place giving a monochrome stillness to the
land. Lou described this as ‘soft’, and it
was, as the hills and their landscape merged and seemed periphery to life’s
activity as they were no more than a side show to rekindle that long lost
friendship.
Trust, truth and honesty
are just some of the important factors in life, and over many years I have
found that friendship is another.
Friendships formed can remain an intrinsic part of one’s life, those that
have been rekindled are rather special as they should be gently nurtured and
enjoyed as opportunities once lost and now found are ones not to lose again.
As we approached the top
of Worcestershire Beacon I asked Lou to find me the highest natural ground and
off she went having a look around and then pointing to a rock between the trig
pillar and the topographic viewfinder, ‘that’s the point there, put the Trimble
there’. As Lou switched the equipment on
I led her through creating a file and soon she had it all set up, ready to
gather data. As it quietly beeped away
we kept a firm eye on the multitude that were either gathered around the area
of the summit, or were walking toward the trig and viewfinder. We only asked three couples if they would
mind taking a wide berth around the Trimble, they all kindly did so and it
remained undisturbed for its five minutes of data collection.
At the summit of Worcestershire Beacon |
During the summit survey
Lou gave me another neatly wrapped bun to eat and once the Trimble had been
safely packed away we sat on a seat close to the high point and happily munched
away through our continued conversation.
During this time the sun shot through the cloud and bathed us in its
warmth for a few minutes, we smiled, took some photos and continued chatting
away.
Worcestershire Beacon is
just one of a number of hills that form the Malvern Hills, the hill range is
orientated north – south and stretches for approximately 13 km (8 miles). With the ranges name of Malvern being adopted
by the sprawling spa town at its foot and having been derived from the Welsh
words Moel (bare, bald) and Bryn (hill). With a name like this it felt like being back
home.
Worcestershire Beacon (SO 768 452) |
Our visit to the hills
was only going to be short in time and distance as it was an outing that formed
a part of the ‘getting to know one another again’ event of the weekend. As a bi-product of this the hills formed a
soft landscape of beauty to conversation and movement, it seemed as if they
were there only for us. This may sound
slightly whimsical, but the essence of hill walking is fleeting where one
experiences time and space during movement, the views during the times in the
hills will remain in all but cloudy conditions and yet they are only there for
you, when you yourself are also there.
This aspect is more defined when in company as hill detail is often not
seen as conversation and the enjoyment of company can dictate priority, and
this was in evidence today as except for the memory instilled by photographs I
have very little memory of the hills themselves, there was too much to talk
about and laugh about and enjoy outside of the landscape that we were moving
through.
As we left our seat we
continued arm in arm down to the intervening col between Worcestershire Beacon
and Sugarloaf Hill where I set the Trimble up on my rucksack for five minutes
of data collection. This was not one of
the three surveys I had hoped to do during the day, but this col looked lower
than that on the northern side of Sugarloaf Hill, and although given as higher
on the map, I thought it would be fun to compare heights.
North Hill (SO 769 463) |
We then continued around
the western flank of Sugarloaf Hill and looked down on the St James’s girl’s school
in Colwall where Lou’s mother; Marion, stayed doing work experience when in her
early 20’s. Ahead of us was the col that
the map gives as the critical one for our second and last hill of the day;
North Hill. As the Trimble gathered data
perched on top of my rucksack I sent Lou off to shoo away any walkers that may
head down toward it, this stopped us having another break and picnic on a
bench, and as I approached the budding surveyor she turned and coyly smiled back
at me as the people who were seemingly heading straight down toward the Trimble
had branched off on another lower path.
Lou with Worcestershire Beacon in the background |
A greened path led us up
to the summit of North Hill and by the time we had assessed the ground for the
highest high point Lou put the Trimble down on the small outcrop of rock and I
pressed ‘Log’. By now the dullness of
colour gave out afternoon cold and Lou’s back needed warmth and she quickly
manufactured a space blanket as a fashion accessory which looked rather
striking wrapped around her thighs. This
then quickly turned in to an extra scarf that stood bold upright pointing
toward the heavens.
At the summit of North Hill |
Once five minutes of
data were gathered from the summit of North Hill I switched the equipment off,
took a few photos and re-joined Lou who was enthusiastically heading down the
hill to investigate the view and to see if we could see the clock tower where
one of our cars was parked next to. We
could not, and decided that our onward route was back over the summit and down
toward End Hill. On the way I felt the
Trimble case and it was empty, feck alive, I’d left the Trimble on the summit
whilst we were wandering down the hill to look at the view. Thankfully it was still there when we passed
and I picked it up, placed it in its case and away we went taking the path
leading down beside the eastern flank of End Hill. Nearing the road this attractive, gazelle
like creature of wit and wisdom and buoyant energy took a tumble, I picked her
up and thankfully no damage to back and body was done. We arrived back at Lou’s car 3½ hours after
leaving mine.
Heading down from the hill |
Upended Rowing Boats
The walk over the
northern ridge of the Malvern Hills had given us time to re-acquaint ourselves
with one another, as indeed had the email thread over the previous five
weeks. As we changed into clean clothes
the sun came out and remained with us for the remainder of the day. On our way back to Lou’s flat we called in
for a tea, coffee and cake at a local café before she led the way through the
outskirts of Worcester.
It was a joy to be in
Lou’s company and although life for both of us had moved on since our school
days and the sun drenched bathing on Greek beaches, it seemed that life’s
friendship remained the same. As we sat
for an evening meal of Thai Green Curry followed by Pavlova she said that Helie
wanted to speak with me during the Face Time slot Lou had pencilled in for the
next morning. I thought ‘oh my god’ it
had taken courage to meet one Evans sister after 18 years of not seeing one
another, and now I was about to speak to the sister who had broken my heart so
many years ago. I said that I would
speak with her, but asked Lou if she could dress me up in disguise, thankfully
we never got around to the toe nail painting part of this disguise, but ever up
for new experiences this may form part of a future visit, we’ll just have to
wait and see.
Helen is now living in
Australia and is happily married to Mark, a drumming and kite surfing
Ozzie. As the Face Time connection
popped up on Lou’s IPad I thought back to all those years ago, to a still young
adult, not mature in so many ways and the relationship that developed and the
love felt and then lost. As Helen’s face
appeared on the screen, that same smile shone back and there was a little yelp
as she saw the length and colour of my hair.
We chatted away with Mark next to Helen and Lou diving in for
conversational titbits. After half an
hour and being shown around their house and meeting their ever so cute dogs we
said our goodbyes and the connection to the opposite side of the world faded
away.
It felt good to speak
with Helen and Mark, although the art of conversation via video connection is
one that I have not yet mastered.
Probably unbeknownst to either Lou or Helen, this conversation, in some
small way, was a cathartic experience for me, and one that was long overdue, as
the years following loves lost should not be embroiled in either pain or
bitterness, these emotions are often felt when the splitting up is initiated by
one’s partner, but life and its delicate and meandering ways is too joyful for
these emotions to remain and fester, they should be understood and accepted as
part of life’s great journey.
As one Evans sister
disappeared to finish off their glass of wine 9,400 miles away the other had
laid plans for us to visit ‘Plan B’.
This turned out to be a wonderful earthy experience of home furnishings
in a beautifully renovated and decorated house and outbuildings named
Baileys. The company is run by Mark and
Sally Bailey, who won the ‘best homewares retailer’ in the Telegraph Magazine
2012. As we sat in an upended rowing
boat having English morning tea that was placed on a table made out of rust, I
could but smile, for as well as it definitely being an earthy experience it
also seemed that an upended boat can be a metaphor for those friendships and
relationships that enrich one’s life, as some sway on the wave and make
progress, others sink without trace and a few are upended but somehow survive
the passage of time.
On our way back to Lou’s
flat we stopped off in Worcester and visited Waterstones, where I
had reserved a copy of the ‘Dull Men of Great Britain’ book. This had only just been published and page 48
is dedicated toward three Mountain Measurers.
As we entered the store Lou looked at the nearest book display and
smiled as Stuart Maconie’s latest book sat next to a book entitled Extreme
Eiger, you just had to laugh. As the man
behind the counter found the book and looked at the cover, Lou proclaimed that
‘we have a dull man in our midst’, the person behind the counter looked a
little puzzled before she burst out with ‘we do, check page 48 for the dull
man’, once page 48 was turned to, the Waterstones employee uttered the never
forgotten words of ‘Oh Blimey’. On our
way back to the car the promised piggy back took place with the happy rider
ushering orders of ‘trot’, ‘canter’ and ‘gallop’.
Suspect the first books funnily excellent and the second book brings back memories....ooopppssssss |
My last image of the
weekend in the company of the elder of the Evans clan of sisters was this
bright, young thing wrapped up in raincoat and light blue ski hat, dressed to
the nines for EA duties in her trainers as she adopted skiing positions on the
platform of Worcester Railway Station whilst making whoosh whoosh whooshing
noises as she slalomed her way on to the train.
Such an attractive and extraordinary creature has seldom inhabited such
places – priceless.
This article was inspired
by Lou, beautiful in mind and body.
Mapping Mountains – Trimble Surveys – Worcestershire Beacon
03.10.15 Worcestershire Beacon (SO 768 452), Sugarloaf Hill (SO 766 457, only col Trimbled) and North Hill (SO 769 463)
Postscript:
Since the survey of these hills full LIDAR coverage is now available. The LIDAR (Light Detection & Ranging) technique produced highly accurate height and positional data that is now freely available for England and Wales. Consequently the numerical details for these hills have been analysed using this technique, resulting in the LIDAR height and position for some of these hills being prioritised in preference to that produced by the Trimble GeoXH 6000.
Survey Result:
Worcestershire Beacon
Summit Height: 425.4m (converted to OSGM15, Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Summit Grid Reference: SO 76882 45230 (Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Col Height: 85.2m (LIDAR)
Col Grid Reference: SO 50203 66471 (LIDAR)
Drop: 340.2m (Trimble GeoXH 6000 summit and LIDAR col)
Dominance: 79.97% (Trimble GeoXH 6000 summit and LIDAR col)
Dominance: 79.97% (Trimble GeoXH 6000 summit and LIDAR col)
Sugarloaf Hill
Summit Height: 369.7m (LIDAR)
Summit Height: 369.7m (LIDAR)
Summit Grid Reference: SO 76692 45792 (LIDAR)
Col Height: 341.2m (converted to OSGM15, Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Col Grid Reference: SO 76819 45668 (Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Drop: 28.4m (LIDAR summit and Trimble GeoXH 6000 col)
Dominance: 7.69% (LIDAR summit and Trimble GeoXH 6000 col)
North Hill
Col Grid Reference: SO 76819 45668 (Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Drop: 28.4m (LIDAR summit and Trimble GeoXH 6000 col)
Dominance: 7.69% (LIDAR summit and Trimble GeoXH 6000 col)
North Hill
Summit Height: 398.0m (converted to OSGM15, Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Summit Grid Reference: SO 76933 46361 (Trimble GeoXH 6000)
Col Height: 336.1m (LIDAR)
Col Grid Reference: SO 76627 46183 (LIDAR)
Drop: 61.9m (Trimble GeoXH 6000 summit and LIDAR col)
Dominance: 15.56% (Trimble GeoXH 6000 summit and LIDAR col)
Dominance: 15.56% (Trimble GeoXH 6000 summit and LIDAR col)
1 comment:
A lovely article to read :). Very pleased for you that you've found a touch of happiness in your life. There is something quite special in the air about those hills overlooking Malvern. Hope to explore them more thoroughly myself too one day before too long.
Best wishes for the future. Alex.
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