Lake District Weekender

Hello once again.
My first blog entry of October recalls our August Bank Holiday camping trip to the Lake District, where we had three days of constant sunshine and high temperatures, which is quite a rarity in Lakeland. We pitched our tent at Castlerigg Farm, on the outskirts of Keswick, after taking up the very last plot on the site before the 'Site Full' sign was hoisted. Once our tent was pitched and loaded, we were back in the car and exploring Lakeland once again, travelling to such places as Bowness, Ambleside, Buttermere and Castlerigg Stone Circle. The region was packed with tourists, which was inevitable on a Bank Holiday weekend, and especially with the weather being so kind. here are some of the photo's I took during a brilliant weekend, which certainly won't be forgotten in a hurry.

Speak soon, Ash

Buttermere Dawn, winner of 'BBC Look North' August weather photograph 

Sunset, from our base at Castlerigg Farm Camp Site

Rowing boats, early morning at Derwentwater

Keswick Launch, Derwentwater

Derwentwater, shortly after Sunset

The top of Honister Pass, near the Slate Mine (Via Ferrata)

The Peaks at Dusk, from Ambleside

Surprise View over Derwentwater, near Ashness Bridge

Buttermere at Dawn - The sheep arrive and take an early morning drink 

Buttermere Dawn, as the mist rises

 

Lakes Weekender 2 (Skiddaw Summit To Ground Level)

Skiddaw summit to ground level...

In this case 'Ground level' is another name for the Ravenstone Hotel, which is where our challenge started, way back at 10am - seems like an age!

After a 10 minute rest on the summit of Skiddaw, we made our way back down the loose slate path that we struggled with earlier. Of course it was much easier going down than up, but still a testing time for the ankles and knees, as well as the ever aching leg muscles that got us up there in the first place. Although there was still much work to do, it was all down hill from here and we headed off with a smile on our faces. Mission accomplished - it was a toughie but you learn to grit your teeth and push yourself. Had I been on my own I doubt I would have reached the summit - I probably would have thrown in the towel half way up Ullock Pike. My first photo (shown here) was taken just as we began our descent of Skiddaw and the time was 12:57pm - we had to get our skates on before the hotel bar closed, so we had a spurt on, alright. Lee led the way - he must have been promised a free pint, he he. I had much more freedom to take photographs now, as I was so much focused on reaching the summit on the way up that I cast aside any thoughts of stopping to photograph the views. That, coupled with mental exhaustion and my inability to lift the camera up to my eye, he he. I did manage to record a few HD movie clips on my phone though, despite the howling wind spoiling the audio accompaniment.

We continued to have the odd breather on the way down - see my second photo of the group on Carl Side, pausing before our approach to the summit of Ullock Pike. There were very few walkers about at this point, although we did pass a few that were heading in the same direction as us. The sun was quite low, so anyone coming up at this time would have been cutting it fine for a return before sundown. With my supplies of Red Bull and chocolate now spent, it was a case of holding out until we reached the hotel for any kind of refreshment. I'd worked up a decent appetite during this fell walk, so it was music to the ears when Davey announced that Spaghetti Bolognese was on tonights menu, followed by Rice Pudding, cooked on an open camp fire. I'm sure he thought of it gave us an extra gear as we picked up momentum going down the hill.

Again, the views were excellent as we made good time on our journey back to ground level. Probably the best view bar none was that of Bassenthwaite lake from the summit of Ullock Pike. Picture 3 (shown here) is that very view, with the contours of the waters edge turning in and out, showing a series of headlands in the process. The land lay like a patchwork quilt, with its many segregated fields, although I expected much more colour as Autumn was now in full swing. Can't complain though - it's not every day you come across a view like this. And the view stretched far and wide. Visibility was still high and the eye could see as far north as the Solway Firth and its line-up of turbine windmills in the far distance. We still had some distance to cover but this passed quickly with jovial banter accompanying us on the last part of our descent. We could sense that the hotel was just minutes away and joked about it being closed once we reached it, after all we'd battled through earlier. The thought was unbearable, so we changed the subject.

We were almost there. This last photo of us on our walk was taken at 14:17pm, so it had only taken us an hour and a quarter to reach this point from the summit of Skiddaw. As you can see, we almost home and dry - Davy, Carlos and Lee lead the way, with me behind and Brian behind me. Fifteen minutes later we arrived at Ravenstone Hotel, absolutey knackered. Davey went in, looking for signs of life, while the rest of us took the weight off our feet by taking advantage of the spare seats on the hotel drive. Davey popped his head out the door and beckoned us in - we were in luck! We headed through to a small bar at the back of the hotel - we had the place to ourselves, which was ideal. Five pints of San Miguel on draught and that was it - there was a danger of us being there til midnight, but after two more pints we called it a day and headed back across the pastures to base camp. It was a lovely calm, bright evening with no breeze at all
and the 20 minute walk across the fields without standing in cow-shit wasn't as easy as one might think. We were collecting wood on the way, which was destined for another trademark 'Lloydo' camp fire as evening fell. We all got back to camp safely, although knackered by this time, and it was now time for further relaxation, with the aid of food and alcohol.

Here are two more photo's, taken in the Ravenstone Hotel. Good memories!
One last blog entry to follow of our Lakes Weekender 2, coming shortly.
Until then, see ya, Ash

Lakes Weekender 2 (Ullock Pike to Skiddaw Summit)

The final ascent of Skiddaw awaited us. We had the benefit of a 15 minute break to refuel our bodies before the final push and although this was a big help, it never felt like it once we began the final climb. This was a killer and I don't mind admitting it. We were already two hours into our fell walk/climb so there wasn't a great deal left in the tank, so to speak, but we had come this far and there was now little or no option to see the task through. Brian had confessed to Davey that he didn't think he could go any further at this point, but with those wise words of encouragement from Davey "Just get on with it man, what's a matter with ya", Brian was soon on his feet and contemplating the task ahead. Davey never did mince his words, he he. What we had endured since our walk began was nothing less than very testing terrain for even the most experienced fell walker. The majority of it was steep ascent, coupled with the odd scramble or two, but below boot was hard rock and ground, not the stuff we were about to come across. The last thing a fell walker wants at this point is loose slate under foot, and we were about to tackle this on our final steep push to Skiddaw summit. The first two photographs give you an idea of what I'm talking about. As I made my first few steps up this punishing slope the weak slate gave way under my boots, making the whole episode much harder than I first anticipated. I remember stopping and looking towards the summit, inwardly hoping someone could magically beam me up and plonk me at the top, escaping the ordeal that lay before me. As the lads passed me at this point I remember making a sudden surge to reclaim my slot near the front of the pack, not wanting to drift further back and finish the day as a knackered heap at the back of the pack. Looking back now, I often wonder where I generated that last burst of energy to reach the pinnacle - when the going gets tough...

Lee shouted at pointed to his right. On an adjoining path up the scree hill was what I can only describe as a nutcase. Yes, some geezer was riding down from Skiddaw summit on a monutain bike! I could have swore I was hallucinating. Yes, there he was - we marveled at his style as he flew down that hill of weak slate like his life depended on it. He was enjoying the moment, that's for sure. Who'd blame him - he must have nearly killed himself getting that bike all he way up there. And there was little old me thinking 'I' should be the one who needed my head looking at, he he. The final push seemed to last forever and just when I thought I could see the end of the line, there was that little bit extra to go, then more, and a bit more after that. I reached the top of the hill but then there'd be another peak further on, so it was much more of the same punishment that made you laugh with hysteria eventually. When I did finally reach the summit, Lee and Carlos had already been there for ten minutes or so. They were smiling broadly but I wasn't sure whether that was due to the realisation that they'd crossed the finish line or whether it was simply cos' they were supping Carlsberg as their reward. They kept that one quiet - smuggling beer up a northern fell should be outlawed, especially as they didn't carry one for me (the pair of knackers!!!).

Davey soon followed. He'd hung back to encourage Brian, who was just about dead on his feet by this point, but job very well done nevertheless (picture 3). I too was fust about finished by this point and the handicap of carrying a backpack of camera gear had definately hindered my progress up the mountain. I often wondered what posessed me to carry a 'Breeze block' on my back, and now it was time for a return. Out came the camera and I snapped away uncontrollably. The views were stunning, which made up for the freezing cold wind that was now hammering us at the summit. There were maybe 30-40 other fell walkers amongst us, all admiring the views at all sides. This was certainly a moment to savour - all that hard graft was well worth the end result. We sat for a few minutes behind a man made slate wall, sheltering from the wind, before getting to our feet and beginning the arduous task of returning to ground level - another hour and a half of torture for the joints!

The mountain structure of Skiddaw can be described as a network of sloping ridges. The actual summit of Skiddaw itself is a long straight ridge running from north to south with a number of lesser summits along its route. So in addition to the main summit, Skiddaw also has a north top, middle top and south top, some with little difference in height. Wainwright notes that Skiddaw summit "... takes the form of a stony, undulating ridge exceeding 3000 ft throughout its length of almost half a mile and provides a glorious promenade high in the sky where one can enjoy a rare feeling of freedom and escape from a world far below, and, for a time, forgotten "(Wainwright 1962, Skiddaw 22). This main ridge is connected from the south east by Skiddaw Little Man, a shorter ridge with the main summit at 865 meters. From the south west there is the curving ridge that connects Ullock Pike, Longside and Carl Side.

With Skiddaw conquered, plus Ullock Pike and the adjoining Carl Side and Long Side, that was four more peaks ticked off. This walk was my toughest yet, make no mistake. Carlos commented on the experience for him, saying 'It's one of the hardest things I've ever done.' Yet he strolled it, for me. At 48 years, and the oldest of our group, he negotiated the task very well indeed, defying his years. It was therefore ironic that the oldest geezer should reach the summit first and the youngest should show up last. It was 'Well done' to each of us, and I for one am looking forward to the next one. We had a good laugh from Friday to Sunday and for weeks beyond that, come to think of it. What, with disappearing toilet rolls, septic tanks, out of date sandwiches and speed camera's, who knows what awaits us the next time! That's half the fun though - it is what it is.

The final installment of Lakes Weekender 2 will be here shortly, with more scenic photo's taken on our descent, by yours truly, plus a few capsite shots of the lads. Until then, thanks for stopping by.
Ash

Lakes Weekender (Blencathra) - Up to Scales Tarn

The time had come to begin the main event. Our Lakeland adventure was about to get serious as we took our first steps from Scales Farm onto Blencathra. The initial climb up Mousethwaite Comb was a wake-up call for the entire body, as we made a steep accent in a north-easterly direction through ferns and bracken. After only a few minutes of walking my legs were burning but this was quite normal and I expected aches and pains along the way, but not this early into the climb. We were walking for at least 20 minutes before we took our first rest, at the top of the Comb. The views from here were something else! The valley in front of us resembled a patchwork quilt and it was from this viewpoint that I took my first photographs, with the lads sat in the foreground, savouring the view (picture 1). A couple of fell walkers passed as we rested but that was all, there's were no others to be seen for a while after that. After ten minutes rest we resumed our walk, turning left and heading through Mousthwaite Comb in a northerly direction, continuing along a path that skirts the top of the crags above the old disused quarry levels that were marked on our map. Eventually we reached the ridge at the back end of Mousthwaite Comb. We now had Blencathra to the left and Souther Fell to the right. From here we had a great view down to the River Glenderamackin Valley and the quiet, desolate and grassy Back o' Skiddaw landscape. We then headed along the path above the River Glenderamackin Valley for around a kilometre until we reached Scales Beck. After turning left we followed the path that ascends the beck, firstly crossing it then ascending its route up to Scales Tarn, passing a steep, noisy waterfall on our left. This part of the route was quite busy with other fell walkers, all friendly and acknowledging as we crossed paths. During our walk through the Glenderamackin Valley the target of our fears come into view, our first sight of Sharp Edge. It looked more than intimidating, to say the least. We had rested a couple of times before we reached this point so my legs were ok, recharged, so to speak - I felt confident that by the time we actually arrived at Sharp Edge it wouldn't look as bad as it first looked, and that we'd go across it, no bother.

It wasn't long before we reached our last resting place before tackling Sharp Edge, an ideal place for a spot of lunch - this was Scales Tarn. Off went the backpack and out came the pasties. Davey took one bite and threw it away, saying it was a bit too rubbery for him. I reckon the sight of Sharp Edge right in front of us had suddenly made him lose his appetite...he he. Lee (Mezo) was hesitant about the job in front of us, saying it was now getting windy and it mightn't be a good idea to attempt the daunting ridge climb after all. Although I didn't let on, I was quite happy to go along with this as I didn't quite like the look of what I could see - tiny ant-like figures climbing an exposed ridge with a fall of atleast 300 feet to either side! Oh dear - BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY!!!!! I looked behind me as we sat, but Brian was lying on his back, eyes shut and looking very exhausted - no feedback from him. Davey brushed the wind issue aside very quickly and said 'Reet, are we all ready then'. I think our arses were twitching somewhat as we got to our feet and prepared ourselves for glory or death!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! At Scales Tarn the path to Blencathra summit splits into two - one heads up an obvious shale path (Brunt Knott) to Sharp Edge, and the other goes to the left - a much easier, although steep route to the summit and Atkinson's Pike. I overheard one walker saying to his friend 'I'm not bloody climbing that' as he pointed to Sharp Edge. They then opted for the easier route and off they went, dismissing the Edge in no time at all. I couldn't help but wish I was accompanying them as we headed up Brunt Knott towards 'The Edge', the only other route to the summit. Talk about getting 'The shit end of the stick'.
This was it - the talking had been going on since early May, eight weeks ago from todays climb. Sharp Edge was right in front of us now and there was no turning back. I looked at it in awe before looking down towards Scales Tarn (picture 3), which was glistening in the early afternoon heat. From here the Tarn looked a long way down and we weren't even on the ridge yet, which climbed a lot higher than where we now stood. My face must have been a picture, he he. I'm sure I felt the colour draining from my face as Davey and Lee disappeared over the first rocks and onto Sharp Edge. They were off and running. Brian looked at me and said 'Ready when you are'. I smiled and replied 'No problem, squire' before turning to begin the ridge climb. Talk about false smiles and all that...LOL! As I negotiated the first section of the crag (picture 4), my mind started playing tricks with me. I remembered during my research of Sharp Edge I discovered that there had been over a dozen fatalities and many other incidents at this location - the most dangerous ridge climb of all the fells in the English Lake District. Can't say I was a happy bunny at this point, but I intended to push myself and my ground level comfort zone was now a distant prospect as I grabbed the bull by the horns and threw caution to the wind. Here we go...
SHARP EDGE SCRAMBLE - Coming next!
Cheers, Ash

Lakes Weekender (Blencathra) - Arrival @ Scales

After breakfast it was time to consult the OS map to establish the route we would take from our starting point at Scales to (hopefully) our arrival at the summit of Blencathra. Davey advised, being competant in these matters, and it was agreed that we would take the route he suggested, which would indeed involve a scramble over Sharp Edge. Fully eqipped, we were soon in the car as Brian drove us to Scales where we parked up and quickly got to grips with the business end of our Lake District visit. The sun was shining brightly and there was plenty of blue sky and broken clouds - maybe I should have brought my Canon kit instead of the Sony swivel body affair. Never mind, I intended to get photographs no matter what, even with my mobile phone. The sceond shot (shown here) was taken by Davey and shows Brian, myself and Lee making final preps before we headed up Blencathra. After passing through the five bar gate at the mountain foot I paused for a short while and looked behind me, taking in the view across towards Great Mell Fell. A picture appeared at that moment and I snapped the view on my mobile phone, shown here (picture 3). I turned around and faced Blencathra once again. time had finally arrived to climb my first mountain, and what a way to start - 728 metres of ascent, covering a distance of 5 miles during an estimated time of 4 hours. Here we go - time to climb!



Ash

Lakes Weekender (Blencathra) - Early Morning, Day 2

During the night the rain barely stopped - I know that because I didn't get much sleep. Not sure why that was - maybe a combination of a few things - never camped in a farmers field before, couldn't get comfortable, rain lashing off tent, no ear plugs, brian's constant snoring! Oh well, nowt to do but suck a lemon and get on with it, I suppose. At 5am, during a rare doze, I was awoken by more noise as Brian went to make a phone call in his car, making little attempt to close the door quietly. Then the door slammed again, and again. Surely this a wind-up! I decided to get up for a bit of fresh air at this point so off I went, grabbing my camera en route. I made my way down the embankment towards Bassenthwaite lake where I was greeted with almost still waters. The sky was overcast and it was a pretty miserable dawn all round. No colour to be had so I set about taking a few black and white shots at the edge of the lake. Here comes Brian with his camera, Mr Nagzy, the noisy customer! We took a few shots before heading back to base camp where Davy and Lee were just rising. The kettle was on and Davy asked 'Who the **** was making all the noise earlier'. He he, so Brian ended up on pot duty after we had breakfast, which consisted of bacon sandwiches made with eggy bread. Another cup of tea and the sun suddenly came out and the low cloud cover lifted. By the time we were ready to leave camp for our assault on Blencathra, the weather had improved dramatically and it was in with the tee-shirts. The sun was beating down and glorious weather was now on our side as we made the car journey from Scarness to Scales, where we would eventually park up and begin our climb up Blencathra. Any chance of the Sharp Edge route being cancelled had by now evaporated - looks like it's imminent! Never done anything like this before, and with only a couple of hours sleep under my belt this was scant preparation for what lay ahead. Adversity sometimes go in your favour though, so I was quietly confident I was gonna get through it unscathed. As we made the journey along the A66 to Scales I was about to find out whether this was my thing or not. No head for heights - this was gonna be interesting!

Ash

Lakes Weekender (Blencathra) - Base Camp

Setting up base camp -

A conversation with a workmate took an interesting turn back in May 2011. Not quite sure what the original discussion was about but it quickly became something else - climbing mountains! Mr Llloyd said he liked the idea of getting away one weekend and doing something 'different'. He then went on to suggest a few of us should get our arses into gear and head off to the Lake District for a camping weekend, tackling a mountain along the way. Well, not being one for sleeping in a field I wasn't too receptive to the idea, half dismissing it at first, but then becoming more interested as the conversation progressed. Davey (Mr Lloyd), was a regular visitor to the Lake District, mainly due to his commitments with 25th Bournmoor Scout Group, so he knew the drill well as far as this game went. He often camped with the scouts on a remote farmers field at Scarness, on the edge of Lake Bassenthwaite, near the Northern Fells. After he'd sold the idea to yours truly I quickly realised an added bonus of landscape photography might just make this weekend an even better one, so I 'Signed Up' there and then. We quickly recruited two more, Lee and Brian, also known as Mezo and Nagzy. Don't ask me to explain! The plan was to camp, walk, climb, eat, drink and just basically have a good laugh. The plans were made a few weeks before we actually made the trip, which eventually took place on the weekend beginning Friday July 8th 2011. The main event over the planned weekend was to tackle a mountain and Davey suggested Blencathra, just off the A66 on the approach to Keswick. None of us apart from Davey had even heard of it, let alone climb it. To me, a mountain is a mountain, but this one had a sting in its tail. It was decided by Davey, he he, that our route to the summit would be taken via Sharp Edge. I'll not go into detail about it - click here for enlightenment!!!
Ok, so you've clicked the link and you now think we need our heads checking, he he. Ya know something...you're probably right! More on our Sharp Edge experience later, but for now I'll tell the story of our arrival at Scarness at we set up camp for the weekend ahead... Our 90 minute journey from Houghton le Spring to Scarness wasn't a pleasant one, especially when you're on driving duty - it rained quite heavily. I made the journeyin my car with Davey, while Lee travelled with Brian, as we needed two set of wheels to transport all our gear...and beer! The weather forecast for the whole weekend wasn't good at all, but I wasn't too disappointed - it looked like Sharp Edge was going to be a non-starter......YESSSS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Didn't quite fancy it for some reason, he he. Davey led us to Broadness Farm, near the edge of Bassenthwaite Lake. He knew the place like the back of his hand after spending many a time here with his scout group. It was a picturesque location, with one of the highest lakeland fells sitting alongside us - Skiddaw, the fourth highest mountain in England. As the rain eased off we quickly pitched the tent, a four berth affair with a bedroom at each end and storage room in the centre, our 'Hotel' for the weekend! Picture 2 shows Lee and Brian after the final tent pegs were sunk. No sooner was the tent up, the kettle was on the stove and it was time for a brew. Then the heavens opened again and we quickly headed inside the tent. It didn't half lash down. At that point I questioned what the hell I was doing there, in a tent, farmers field, pissing down rain, and the prospect of tackling Sharp Edge the following day...he he, you end up laughing, if ya didn't, well...

After a cuppa it was time to eat, so out came the gas stoves under a nearby tree and it was a-la carte all the way - NOT! Tasty nevertheless, and it filled that gap. The rain eased and a nice rainbow greeted us across the way (picture 1). As night time drew closer we headed off along the waters edge to stretch our forty-something legs. The place was quite desolate, give or take a handful of kids canoeing on the outskirts of the big pond. An hour later and we were back on our hotel complex, in search of firewood - time to get warmed up. We soon had a roaring fire going and we sat around it on our fold-up chairs, downing lager and cider in the process. This is the life! We chatted and joked on as the alcohol went down as the light fell. It was around 10pm by this time and we sat looking through the break in the trees across the lake. The water was almost still. Virtual silence, apart from a distant stream of cars on the A66 westbound at the far side of Bassenthwaite. Then total silence. The silence was broken when a rogue piece of wood spat from the fire and into Mezo's face...oh dear...we couldn't help but laugh...talk about impeccable timing! I do recall him sharing a four letter word with us as he rubbed his face to relieve the pain. Time for a group shot around the fire (shown here L-R, Ash, Davey, Brian and Lee). Shortly after 11pm, and after a few more 'Jars', we staggered back up the bank towards our glamourous 'Hotel'. It was time to rest those weary heads in preparation for our mountain climb the next day. I needed a good night's sleep, that was sure - didn't wanna tackle that hill without one. The rain started again as lights went out. Time for reflection before sleep. I was looking forward to the rest of our weekend although Sharp Edge was on the back of my mind. Never done anything like that before, and not having a head for heights it certainly made for an interesting and challenging time ahead. I intended to push myself, close to the edge, but not over it, he he.

Stay tuned for the next installment - Blencathra climb, via Sharp Edge!

Thanks for visiting,

Ash