Walking up Wideford
Hike
For my last day in Kirkwall, I planned to climb Wideford Hill, the hill that overlooks the town. You can see it in a lot of the photos from my work; the innovation campus is pretty much at the foot of the hill (or so it feels) and so it was only natural that I should want to climb it on my final day. I thought it would be a good way to finish my first week there.
The hike started fairly auspiciously, as the cows that had previously blocked my way through the footpath had been relocated to the adjoining field. At least, I think that they were the same cows, but they didn’t show their typical interest in me. Maybe the shock of having been moved around gave their fragile bovine minds all of the excitement that they could possibly stand for a day.
But this meant that the footpath, which yesterday had a ring of cows blocking it, was open and free.
I walked into the field and started traipsing uphill. Kirkwall is filled with layers upon layers of structures, some dating back many thousands of years. About halfway through the field was one of the circular hay troughs, and behind that were the clear foundations for a farm that used to exist in the area and now was no more.
Looking back in the direction I had come was striking. The grass in this area is extremely purple, especially in the direction of the wind, and it covers the whole field in a haze of lavender.
The purple effect is elusive; you have to be at the right angle to capture it. I tried a couple of times.
I’m jealous of the cattle. They get a nice view of the wind turbine and the ocean, and the isle of Shapinsay across the water.
I wanted to get a close up picture of some of the purpleness of the grass so I could show it off, but the wind was high and the grass kept blowing around. After taking picture after picture of nothing but blurs, I resorted to grabbing the stem of the grass with my hand to get the shot.
Further up, I climbed out of the cow field and started wending my way forwards. Kirkwall is relatively flat, so I didn’t feel like I needed any kind of navigation. I figured that if I just kept going in the uphill direction, I would eventually get to the top and be on top of Wideford.
At 220m, Wideford Hill is about the same height as Arthur’s seat. However, because of the extremely gentle slope of the hill (at least compared to the sheer drops and dizzying cliffs of Holyrood), it doesn’t look nearly as high at all. Wideford is easily recognizable by the cluster of radio equipment at the summit.
The first sign of human habitation (as opposed to heifer habitation) was the elaborate sign for Saverock house, where a Neolithic quernstone (apparently a rock used to grind grains) was uncovered a few years ago by a field walker much like myself.
Ruins
Through the fence at Saverock, I noticed a stand of trees with a collapsed barn in the middle.
Ruins are common on the island. It’s hard work building houses in a location that hasn’t had trees since TODO: DATE?. The houses that do get built are generally made of stone (or, if it’s a more recent development, stucco), and are thus heavy and non-biodegradable. When the owner moves out, and there’s no pressing need to reuse the land for something else, the structures are just left to rot. This leads to good opportunities for exploring.
It’s exciting exploring these structures - like visiting an old haunted house. My guess is that this one was pretty recent, going off the materials. As I went down the overgrown path, parts of the house started exposing themselves to view.
Is it still a ruin if it’s only 50 years old? I don’t know what the technical definition is.
I also don’t know how it happened that this house is in the only stand of trees in Kirkwall, but it did. One of these trees stood in a small courtyard behind a freestanding concrete entranceway; I loved how Studio Ghibli the effect was.
On an island with so few trees, it’s surprising to me that there should be such a beautiful old one behind an abandoned barn.
The roof of the barn was made of corrugated metal which had collapsed into a twisted, sinusoidal mess.
Inside, the house was completely overgrown with ferns. The house is new enough that the walls were made of the same “batter” that pervades most of New Kirkwal, but you could also see wooden framing inside for the upper story and the walls.
Walking out, the wind turbine was facing me directly, which was a bit unsettling.
Here’s the location of the ruined building on the map: you can see the slight detour I made to get there. Still miles off from the top of Wideford.
Cows
This was the first week that I was in Kirkwall, and it had basically been miserable weather the whole time. I had managed to get out and see a couple of interesting sights, but I was starting to worry that the island would all be industrial, agricultural, and just not very fun to be around. This walk would change that opinion.
The Burn of Hatston flows through the fields, starting at the quarry on Wideford hill, and pretty directly out into the Wide Firth where the ferries come in to dock.
I had been a little sad walking out that my favorite herd of cattle was missing from the field. Past the abandoned house, though, there was another herd.
It’s funny how steers will behave. They’re such gentle, curious creatures. First they give you an unmoving stare. Then, as you come closer, they’ll start walking towards you en masse. (A single hiker who’s interested in them will probably be the most fascinating thing to happen to them that day.) Suddenly, they hit a point where they will come no further, and will stand in a semicircle looking at you on the other side of the fence. This point is usually about 2 meters out.
If you stand there long enough, one of them will usually come forward and sniff your hand. I had other things to do, though, so I cut my visit with the cows short and walked off into the neighboring field.
Quarry
I was having a great time cutting through all the fields. Scotland has a policy of broad responsible access, which enables you to walk through fields (as long as you’re not silly about it and don’t trample crops / annoy animals), and that’s pretty much your only option coming out of Warness Park.
Past the cows, there was a field full of small fluffy creatures. If anyone has more information about these things, I would love to hear it.
Unfortunately, as sometimes happens when walking through fields, I got completely stuck and had to go back pretty much the whole way that I’d come to get out.
Once I made it out of the field, I found a very nice house on the hill with a variety of hedges.
And a very straight, very flat path out to the quarry at the base of Wideford.
It looked inviting enough that I decided to walk down. Plus, this seemed like a good way to get closer to the hill, and I still harbored the illusion that I was going to be able to make it up Wideford that day.
At the quarry, I found some signs. Fortunately, my safety training had prepared me for this eventuality.
Power flows into the quarry through a field of puffy grasses.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it into the quarry, and had to turn back empty handed.
Sour grapes.
Sun
At this moment the sun came out!
There was a nice view of Kirkwall, where you could see the sun stretching all the way to Sanday.
I got a picture of a funny pink plant. I was so happy to finally start seeing some diverse fauna. Turns out you just have to get out of the industrial zone.
This sign is either warning you about blind hikers or about punctuation.
Looking back at it, I took a bunch of pictures of the side of the road which were solely motivated by my sheer joy at experiencing 10 minutes of sunlight.
This one I did like though. Sometimes roads in Edinburgh will be flanked by pillars, or by statues. This road was flanked by twin white signs.
Further down the road, I came across this shack. Orkney is full of ramshackle buildings, but it’s rare to see them actually being used for anything. By the lawn chairs, though, it was under active use.
Stone
Sometimes Orkney can give you the feeling that you’re in a movie set where the director couldn’t choose a genre. There’s a bit of money around due to the farming (exporting about 9 billion quid worth of livestock each year), and people do the darnedest things with it.
I turned a corner and there was a massive car made of stone.
Turns out this was the residence of the master mason of the Orkney Stone Works.
Let’s get another angle of that. What an incredible, ridiculous project.
On the map:
Home
It was getting a bit late, and I was still walking around the base of Wideford with no path up in sight, so I turned towards home.
From the stone car, the Muddisdale footpath takes you through a field, a golf course, and some tall hedges.
Then, out of nowhere, it started hailing. To recount, I had already been rained on twice and just ten minutes prior was enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. Now I was being pelted with shards of ice. It’s insane how quickly the weather in Kirkwall can change.
Frozen, I made it to the end of the line.
From these pictures, you couldn’t tell at all that it had been hailing prior. It was late in the evening, so the sun was shining from the west, and as often happens the wind was westerly as well. So in the rapid transition between weather states, there were a solid few moments of simultaneous sun and hail.
This means I got to see that rarest of all celestial phenomena: the hailbow.
