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| Ward Hill, Bressay from the ferry |
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| Lerwick across Bressay Sound from Ward Hill |
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| Summit Cairn |
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| Noss |
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| The vibrant Primary School murals inspire visitors and locals alike |
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Ascent: 250 metres
Distance: 12 kilometres
Time: 1 hour 10 minutes
Ward of Bressay 226m 36 mins
It was a dry, cool, overcast day and it seemed a good opportunity after work to make the short ferry crossing to Bressay for a run-up Ward Hill; an outing that I have been intending to do for the last month. The Ward of Bressay is visible from Lerwick and is littered with an array of masts and ancillary buildings, which detracts from its appeal but it is one of the 19 Marilyns of Shetland.
Immediately after work at 6:15pm, I jogged down to the ferry that had the late commuters on board and we ripped across the sound in 7 minutes. As I ran off the loading ramp the intimacy of island life was immediately evident. I ran around the coast road through the scattered village until Grindiscol from where a track ascended the hill with an ever-increasing gradient. The field pattern showed a long history of farming, there were several abandoned quarries where stone had been abstracted and the hillside was flush with rabbits and sheep.
The track twisted its way to the summit which was overcrowded with radio and TV masts and various buildings. I circled the summit absorbing the sea views and freshness of the Bressay air before deciding to descend down the hillside in the direction of Noss, it was steep at first but provided the best views. There was a hollow of peat hags leading to West Hill where I found a track leading northwards. It was slow going and when it became apparent that the tracks were taking me too far north, I cut across the many small fields dotted with ruins and enclosed by fences, and ditches. I reached a road by a large modern bungalow and from there descended to the main road through the village. The primary school displayed some splendid exterior murals that satirised island life.
I noticed that the ferry had been in quite a while and there was not another one for an hour. I began to panic and engaged a Forrest Gump pace to reach the jetty with just 3 minutes to spare. As I disembarked, the waft of frying from the Fort Fish and Chip shop reeled me in for the superb fresh haddock which was a suitable reward for quite a long run.
It was a dry, cool, overcast day and it seemed a good opportunity after work to make the short ferry crossing to Bressay for a run-up Ward Hill; an outing that I have been intending to do for the last month. The Ward of Bressay is visible from Lerwick and is littered with an array of masts and ancillary buildings, which detracts from its appeal but it is one of the 19 Marilyns of Shetland.
Immediately after work at 6:15pm, I jogged down to the ferry that had the late commuters on board and we ripped across the sound in 7 minutes. As I ran off the loading ramp the intimacy of island life was immediately evident. I ran around the coast road through the scattered village until Grindiscol from where a track ascended the hill with an ever-increasing gradient. The field pattern showed a long history of farming, there were several abandoned quarries where stone had been abstracted and the hillside was flush with rabbits and sheep.
The track twisted its way to the summit which was overcrowded with radio and TV masts and various buildings. I circled the summit absorbing the sea views and freshness of the Bressay air before deciding to descend down the hillside in the direction of Noss, it was steep at first but provided the best views. There was a hollow of peat hags leading to West Hill where I found a track leading northwards. It was slow going and when it became apparent that the tracks were taking me too far north, I cut across the many small fields dotted with ruins and enclosed by fences, and ditches. I reached a road by a large modern bungalow and from there descended to the main road through the village. The primary school displayed some splendid exterior murals that satirised island life.
I noticed that the ferry had been in quite a while and there was not another one for an hour. I began to panic and engaged a Forrest Gump pace to reach the jetty with just 3 minutes to spare. As I disembarked, the waft of frying from the Fort Fish and Chip shop reeled me in for the superb fresh haddock which was a suitable reward for quite a long run.
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