Saturday, June 5
YHA - Whither the Future
A piece in July's TGO reminded me to take a look at how the YHA is handling change these days. As a long time, if increasingly non-youthful supporter, I've expressed concerns in the past about the direction the movement is headed.
Investment plans to expand new hostels; Changes in the hosteling clientele; Shortcomings of the booking system; Even a well aimed kick at the groin in return for the refusal of a bed for the night and being left with the impression that my presence was Not Wanted Around Here;
During these pieces I hope my support for the YHA ethos has been supportive, whatever the individual criticism, with due recognition of the commercial necessities for a large business juggling solvency against a demanding & fluid customer base.
(If you want to see how the YHA judges its own efforts then their 2009 Annual Report can be found here)
But to business. Back in May YHA announced a further round of hostel closures including Capel Curig, Exeter, Grasmere Thorney Howe, Kendal & River Dart (They will continue to operate until at least Sept '10)
Grasmere I can understand, with 2 hostels in near proximity, even if the Grasmere Butharlyp Howe always seems to be bursting at the seams.
But some of these others?
I've stayed at both Capel Curig & Exeter. Both are in in great locations. Both have superb potential.
What went wrong such that they are deemed candidates for closure?
As a balance two new hostels will open next year, at Southease (Sussex) & Berwick on Tweed (Northumberland) plus investment schemes at two others (one being YHA Oxford Street in London)
The press release also mentions that the YHA’s Board of Trustees will look at opportunities for further funding this year at 'popular small country hostels'.
It's that last line I'm currently hanging my hopes on at present.
For it seems to me that the out of the way hostels, essential for walking trips 'off-piste', are slowly disappearing in order to fund (larger?) city based sites.
Off course there is a question of balance & running costs.
Use of the smaller 'traditional' style hostels can go extremely quiet out of season, if indeed they are even open.
But somewhere amongst this redistribution of the YHA property stock there must come a time when the hostels offered, & the core membership, come to a divergence of views on Hosteler demand & Hostel supply, leaving a new type of Hosteler in charge of YHA income.
And on present showing that could well be one that probably doesn’t give a damn about any long term continuation of the YHA's legacy, except as a budget B&B to use once in a while if the local Travel Lodge is full.
Use it or loose it folks.
Whilst you still have a choice. Labels: Lake District, Wales, YHA
Sunday, January 31
Mountain Rescue - Spare Change?
Regular readers will be aware of my regular promotion of the UK's Mountain Rescue services. In particular I joined the MRT national support group Basecamp at the Outdoor Show last year. One of the fringe benefits, besides financial support for MRT, is that I receive Mountain Rescue Magazine each month.
I'll be frank - with it's targeted audience of MRT members much of the content goes straight over my head. However I can usually find something to saviour beyond the hard core technical items & intra team news.
This month there's in depth (no pun intended!) coverage from some of those involved in the Cockermouth flood rescues last November.
Local MRT teams were very actively involved over a ten day period - and all of it voluntary. Despite the teams forming an integral part of the offical joint emergency services response, many had to take took leave of absence from their day jobs and businesses to provide their time & expertise. And lets not forget prolonged absences from their families, with their own worries about the dangers involved.
Mountain rescue is one thing. Flood rescue whilst chest deep in rising water, urban & country debris included, is something else entirely.
I've picked out two items which never made the national news, but illustrate the contrasting challenges which MRT have to deal with, both during the emergency & afterwards.
"The only downside ….. a spurious call from a journalist who said she'd heard a report of someone injured on Skiddaw. The Keswick (MRT) team were suspicious from the start but that didn’t stop them deploying thirty people to the hill before the woman admitted she was just testing the system to see if mountain rescue could still respond to the mountains despite their commitment to the floods. I understand she has now been charged with wasting the time of an emergency service, something which carries a tougher penalty than wasting police time"
(Andy Simpson/Mountain Rescue Magazine Jan 2010)
"…the teams are now calculating the cost in terms of damaged or lost equipment…...at least two recently purchased Land Rovers suffered significant flood damage whilst carrying out rescue work in the Cockermouth & Ambleside floods"
'Nuff said I think.
If you want to contribute towards MRT you can do so by GIVING via their web site or via Basecamp Facebook.
And if you want to keep up to date there's always MRT Basecamp's page on Facebook.Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP
Saturday, December 5
Lake District Weatherline - New telephone number
I've one telephone number stored away on my mobile phone that whilst infrequently used, will never be deleted. When wildcamping high on Lakeland fells part of my evening routine is to call, phone signal permitting, The Lake District Weatherline service.
Over the years I've found the forecasts to be accurate, detailed & (for a solo hillwalker), key when pondering the next day's route.
To go high…..or low?
An important question for a walker travelling with no schedule to keep, other than to see what's beyond the next range of felltops.
But no matter what my intent, realism dictates that I should bend with the weather's vagaries, especially where extreme conditions are forecast.
(Wildcamping - ah so pretty)
Even in less inclement weather the choice between a high ridge walk in dense rain cloud, or a valley meander accompanied by patchy showers, can be the difference between a hard day with little enjoyment or an pleasant day of exploration.
(Wildcamping - ugh not so pretty)
That's even more relevant when high wind speeds are the alternative between safe passage low down or the increased risk of being knocked off my feet when ridging along exposed tops.
So thanks to the latest TGO Magazine for alerting me to the fact that the telephone no. for The Lake District Weatherline has recently changed to 0844 846 2444.
(Being curious, I tried the old number earlier today, only to be met with a recorded message giving a company's name and address details. But not a lot of guidance as to whether it will rain in Keswick tomorrow)
And whilst on the subject of Lakeland weather - fancy a job as a Fell Top Assessor?
"….report on the fell conditions from the summit area of Helvellyn from December through to April. Working seven days on and seven days off, including weekends and bank holidays, you will need to be able to climb from Glenridding to the summit of Helvellyn and back in four hours"
Well that’s probably me out of the running.
Then again the daily commute from the south coast might just get me down in the end.
Wonder whether any of the Assessors have ever thought about just wildcamping for their week in a nearby sheltered spot?
Now there's an idea.
And to get paid for it as well.
HmmmmLabels: Lake District, National Park, nature
Sunday, November 22
Flooding - bring it home
Like you I've heard & seen the news reports about the Cockermouth floods. Whilst there is considerable disruption & damage, there is a niggling temptation to wonder if the press reports have concentrated on the more extreme, TV friendly, areas.
Over on the Mad About Mountains are a range of snaps covering Keswick town centre. And for those that have spent long hours waiting outside Booth's Supermarket for a bus/coach link, or stayed at the YHA - the pictures tell the story with far more personal impact.
A range of scenes from today around Keswick, and yesterday from Latrigg.
Bad. But bearing in mind how things looked like when it was really raining, the situation could have turned out much worse.
A big well done to all the rescue services concerned.
But lets not forget efforts of the MRT whose Basecamp supporter's site updates on Facebook illustrate the long and arduous activity the teams of volunteers, pulled in from many areas, have been involved with over the last few days.
Time for a donation. Or better still join Basecamp?
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, November 9
Mountain Rescue Services - Call-outs on the rise in 2009?
October's Mountain Rescue magazine dropped onto the doormat a few weeks ago, but it was only the past few days that I found time to sit down and peruse it at leisure.
As a member of Basecamp, the MRT Support Club for England & Wales, this comes as part of the membership package and is always an interesting read. Content is geared (naturally) towards MRT personnel, but there is usually a couple of items that catch my interest as a non-MRT reader (See July's piece concerning mobile telephone access to emergency services)
The latest issue was no exception with a report that Keswick MRT calls hit 100 in late August, an increase of 77% compared to 2008, and a 66% increase in alerts. North Wales also experienced a 20% rise over 2008 figures.
Whilst exceptional, this is not necessarily the pattern across all MR Teams.
But given a 14% increase in the number of individual team involvement call-outs across the Lake District area as a whole, prior to the August Bank Holiday, its clear that the demand on some MRTs is in danger of becoming untenable. Particularly for the many volunteers who freely give of their time, and live with the disruption to their personal & work life.
Basecamp proffers one solution, suggesting increasing awareness amongst groups on mountain activities.
I've a few more radical ideas concerning individual responsibility, self-assist, common sense, and unnatural hiding places for improperly used mobile phones.
But perhaps its better I resist the temptation to go into detail.
Well for the present, at least.
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT), Mountain Resuce Team MRT BASECAMP, Wales
Monday, October 5
Three Peaks, Slow Peaks
Whilst doing the last minute packing earlier this evening I was listening to BBC Radio 4's CostingThe Earth program (On Listen Again Now for the next 7 days).
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
Tuesday, August 11
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. 
(Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
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I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Investment plans to expand new hostels; Changes in the hosteling clientele; Shortcomings of the booking system; Even a well aimed kick at the groin in return for the refusal of a bed for the night and being left with the impression that my presence was Not Wanted Around Here;
During these pieces I hope my support for the YHA ethos has been supportive, whatever the individual criticism, with due recognition of the commercial necessities for a large business juggling solvency against a demanding & fluid customer base.
(If you want to see how the YHA judges its own efforts then their 2009 Annual Report can be found here)
But to business. Back in May YHA announced a further round of hostel closures including Capel Curig, Exeter, Grasmere Thorney Howe, Kendal & River Dart (They will continue to operate until at least Sept '10)
Grasmere I can understand, with 2 hostels in near proximity, even if the Grasmere Butharlyp Howe always seems to be bursting at the seams.
But some of these others?
I've stayed at both Capel Curig & Exeter. Both are in in great locations. Both have superb potential.
What went wrong such that they are deemed candidates for closure?
As a balance two new hostels will open next year, at Southease (Sussex) & Berwick on Tweed (Northumberland) plus investment schemes at two others (one being YHA Oxford Street in London)
The press release also mentions that the YHA’s Board of Trustees will look at opportunities for further funding this year at 'popular small country hostels'.
It's that last line I'm currently hanging my hopes on at present.
For it seems to me that the out of the way hostels, essential for walking trips 'off-piste', are slowly disappearing in order to fund (larger?) city based sites.
Off course there is a question of balance & running costs.
Use of the smaller 'traditional' style hostels can go extremely quiet out of season, if indeed they are even open.
But somewhere amongst this redistribution of the YHA property stock there must come a time when the hostels offered, & the core membership, come to a divergence of views on Hosteler demand & Hostel supply, leaving a new type of Hosteler in charge of YHA income.
And on present showing that could well be one that probably doesn’t give a damn about any long term continuation of the YHA's legacy, except as a budget B&B to use once in a while if the local Travel Lodge is full.
Use it or loose it folks.
Whilst you still have a choice.
Labels: Lake District, Wales, YHA
Mountain Rescue - Spare Change?
Regular readers will be aware of my regular promotion of the UK's Mountain Rescue services. In particular I joined the MRT national support group Basecamp at the Outdoor Show last year. One of the fringe benefits, besides financial support for MRT, is that I receive Mountain Rescue Magazine each month.
I'll be frank - with it's targeted audience of MRT members much of the content goes straight over my head. However I can usually find something to saviour beyond the hard core technical items & intra team news.
This month there's in depth (no pun intended!) coverage from some of those involved in the Cockermouth flood rescues last November.
Local MRT teams were very actively involved over a ten day period - and all of it voluntary. Despite the teams forming an integral part of the offical joint emergency services response, many had to take took leave of absence from their day jobs and businesses to provide their time & expertise. And lets not forget prolonged absences from their families, with their own worries about the dangers involved.
Mountain rescue is one thing. Flood rescue whilst chest deep in rising water, urban & country debris included, is something else entirely.
I've picked out two items which never made the national news, but illustrate the contrasting challenges which MRT have to deal with, both during the emergency & afterwards.
"The only downside ….. a spurious call from a journalist who said she'd heard a report of someone injured on Skiddaw. The Keswick (MRT) team were suspicious from the start but that didn’t stop them deploying thirty people to the hill before the woman admitted she was just testing the system to see if mountain rescue could still respond to the mountains despite their commitment to the floods. I understand she has now been charged with wasting the time of an emergency service, something which carries a tougher penalty than wasting police time"
(Andy Simpson/Mountain Rescue Magazine Jan 2010)
"…the teams are now calculating the cost in terms of damaged or lost equipment…...at least two recently purchased Land Rovers suffered significant flood damage whilst carrying out rescue work in the Cockermouth & Ambleside floods"
'Nuff said I think.
If you want to contribute towards MRT you can do so by GIVING via their web site or via Basecamp Facebook.
And if you want to keep up to date there's always MRT Basecamp's page on Facebook.Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP
Saturday, December 5
Lake District Weatherline - New telephone number
I've one telephone number stored away on my mobile phone that whilst infrequently used, will never be deleted. When wildcamping high on Lakeland fells part of my evening routine is to call, phone signal permitting, The Lake District Weatherline service.
Over the years I've found the forecasts to be accurate, detailed & (for a solo hillwalker), key when pondering the next day's route.
To go high…..or low?
An important question for a walker travelling with no schedule to keep, other than to see what's beyond the next range of felltops.
But no matter what my intent, realism dictates that I should bend with the weather's vagaries, especially where extreme conditions are forecast.
(Wildcamping - ah so pretty)
Even in less inclement weather the choice between a high ridge walk in dense rain cloud, or a valley meander accompanied by patchy showers, can be the difference between a hard day with little enjoyment or an pleasant day of exploration.
(Wildcamping - ugh not so pretty)
That's even more relevant when high wind speeds are the alternative between safe passage low down or the increased risk of being knocked off my feet when ridging along exposed tops.
So thanks to the latest TGO Magazine for alerting me to the fact that the telephone no. for The Lake District Weatherline has recently changed to 0844 846 2444.
(Being curious, I tried the old number earlier today, only to be met with a recorded message giving a company's name and address details. But not a lot of guidance as to whether it will rain in Keswick tomorrow)
And whilst on the subject of Lakeland weather - fancy a job as a Fell Top Assessor?
"….report on the fell conditions from the summit area of Helvellyn from December through to April. Working seven days on and seven days off, including weekends and bank holidays, you will need to be able to climb from Glenridding to the summit of Helvellyn and back in four hours"
Well that’s probably me out of the running.
Then again the daily commute from the south coast might just get me down in the end.
Wonder whether any of the Assessors have ever thought about just wildcamping for their week in a nearby sheltered spot?
Now there's an idea.
And to get paid for it as well.
HmmmmLabels: Lake District, National Park, nature
Sunday, November 22
Flooding - bring it home
Like you I've heard & seen the news reports about the Cockermouth floods. Whilst there is considerable disruption & damage, there is a niggling temptation to wonder if the press reports have concentrated on the more extreme, TV friendly, areas.
Over on the Mad About Mountains are a range of snaps covering Keswick town centre. And for those that have spent long hours waiting outside Booth's Supermarket for a bus/coach link, or stayed at the YHA - the pictures tell the story with far more personal impact.
A range of scenes from today around Keswick, and yesterday from Latrigg.
Bad. But bearing in mind how things looked like when it was really raining, the situation could have turned out much worse.
A big well done to all the rescue services concerned.
But lets not forget efforts of the MRT whose Basecamp supporter's site updates on Facebook illustrate the long and arduous activity the teams of volunteers, pulled in from many areas, have been involved with over the last few days.
Time for a donation. Or better still join Basecamp?
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, November 9
Mountain Rescue Services - Call-outs on the rise in 2009?
October's Mountain Rescue magazine dropped onto the doormat a few weeks ago, but it was only the past few days that I found time to sit down and peruse it at leisure.
As a member of Basecamp, the MRT Support Club for England & Wales, this comes as part of the membership package and is always an interesting read. Content is geared (naturally) towards MRT personnel, but there is usually a couple of items that catch my interest as a non-MRT reader (See July's piece concerning mobile telephone access to emergency services)
The latest issue was no exception with a report that Keswick MRT calls hit 100 in late August, an increase of 77% compared to 2008, and a 66% increase in alerts. North Wales also experienced a 20% rise over 2008 figures.
Whilst exceptional, this is not necessarily the pattern across all MR Teams.
But given a 14% increase in the number of individual team involvement call-outs across the Lake District area as a whole, prior to the August Bank Holiday, its clear that the demand on some MRTs is in danger of becoming untenable. Particularly for the many volunteers who freely give of their time, and live with the disruption to their personal & work life.
Basecamp proffers one solution, suggesting increasing awareness amongst groups on mountain activities.
I've a few more radical ideas concerning individual responsibility, self-assist, common sense, and unnatural hiding places for improperly used mobile phones.
But perhaps its better I resist the temptation to go into detail.
Well for the present, at least.
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT), Mountain Resuce Team MRT BASECAMP, Wales
Monday, October 5
Three Peaks, Slow Peaks
Whilst doing the last minute packing earlier this evening I was listening to BBC Radio 4's CostingThe Earth program (On Listen Again Now for the next 7 days).
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
Tuesday, August 11
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
I'll be frank - with it's targeted audience of MRT members much of the content goes straight over my head. However I can usually find something to saviour beyond the hard core technical items & intra team news.
This month there's in depth (no pun intended!) coverage from some of those involved in the Cockermouth flood rescues last November.
Local MRT teams were very actively involved over a ten day period - and all of it voluntary. Despite the teams forming an integral part of the offical joint emergency services response, many had to take took leave of absence from their day jobs and businesses to provide their time & expertise. And lets not forget prolonged absences from their families, with their own worries about the dangers involved.
Mountain rescue is one thing. Flood rescue whilst chest deep in rising water, urban & country debris included, is something else entirely.
I've picked out two items which never made the national news, but illustrate the contrasting challenges which MRT have to deal with, both during the emergency & afterwards.
"The only downside ….. a spurious call from a journalist who said she'd heard a report of someone injured on Skiddaw. The Keswick (MRT) team were suspicious from the start but that didn’t stop them deploying thirty people to the hill before the woman admitted she was just testing the system to see if mountain rescue could still respond to the mountains despite their commitment to the floods. I understand she has now been charged with wasting the time of an emergency service, something which carries a tougher penalty than wasting police time"
(Andy Simpson/Mountain Rescue Magazine Jan 2010)
"…the teams are now calculating the cost in terms of damaged or lost equipment…...at least two recently purchased Land Rovers suffered significant flood damage whilst carrying out rescue work in the Cockermouth & Ambleside floods"
'Nuff said I think.
If you want to contribute towards MRT you can do so by GIVING via their web site or via Basecamp Facebook.
And if you want to keep up to date there's always MRT Basecamp's page on Facebook.
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP
Lake District Weatherline - New telephone number
I've one telephone number stored away on my mobile phone that whilst infrequently used, will never be deleted. When wildcamping high on Lakeland fells part of my evening routine is to call, phone signal permitting, The Lake District Weatherline service.
Over the years I've found the forecasts to be accurate, detailed & (for a solo hillwalker), key when pondering the next day's route.
To go high…..or low?
An important question for a walker travelling with no schedule to keep, other than to see what's beyond the next range of felltops.
But no matter what my intent, realism dictates that I should bend with the weather's vagaries, especially where extreme conditions are forecast.
(Wildcamping - ah so pretty)
Even in less inclement weather the choice between a high ridge walk in dense rain cloud, or a valley meander accompanied by patchy showers, can be the difference between a hard day with little enjoyment or an pleasant day of exploration.
(Wildcamping - ugh not so pretty)
That's even more relevant when high wind speeds are the alternative between safe passage low down or the increased risk of being knocked off my feet when ridging along exposed tops.
So thanks to the latest TGO Magazine for alerting me to the fact that the telephone no. for The Lake District Weatherline has recently changed to 0844 846 2444.
(Being curious, I tried the old number earlier today, only to be met with a recorded message giving a company's name and address details. But not a lot of guidance as to whether it will rain in Keswick tomorrow)
And whilst on the subject of Lakeland weather - fancy a job as a Fell Top Assessor?
"….report on the fell conditions from the summit area of Helvellyn from December through to April. Working seven days on and seven days off, including weekends and bank holidays, you will need to be able to climb from Glenridding to the summit of Helvellyn and back in four hours"
Well that’s probably me out of the running.
Then again the daily commute from the south coast might just get me down in the end.
Wonder whether any of the Assessors have ever thought about just wildcamping for their week in a nearby sheltered spot?
Now there's an idea.
And to get paid for it as well.
HmmmmLabels: Lake District, National Park, nature
Sunday, November 22
Flooding - bring it home
Like you I've heard & seen the news reports about the Cockermouth floods. Whilst there is considerable disruption & damage, there is a niggling temptation to wonder if the press reports have concentrated on the more extreme, TV friendly, areas.
Over on the Mad About Mountains are a range of snaps covering Keswick town centre. And for those that have spent long hours waiting outside Booth's Supermarket for a bus/coach link, or stayed at the YHA - the pictures tell the story with far more personal impact.
A range of scenes from today around Keswick, and yesterday from Latrigg.
Bad. But bearing in mind how things looked like when it was really raining, the situation could have turned out much worse.
A big well done to all the rescue services concerned.
But lets not forget efforts of the MRT whose Basecamp supporter's site updates on Facebook illustrate the long and arduous activity the teams of volunteers, pulled in from many areas, have been involved with over the last few days.
Time for a donation. Or better still join Basecamp?
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, November 9
Mountain Rescue Services - Call-outs on the rise in 2009?
October's Mountain Rescue magazine dropped onto the doormat a few weeks ago, but it was only the past few days that I found time to sit down and peruse it at leisure.
As a member of Basecamp, the MRT Support Club for England & Wales, this comes as part of the membership package and is always an interesting read. Content is geared (naturally) towards MRT personnel, but there is usually a couple of items that catch my interest as a non-MRT reader (See July's piece concerning mobile telephone access to emergency services)
The latest issue was no exception with a report that Keswick MRT calls hit 100 in late August, an increase of 77% compared to 2008, and a 66% increase in alerts. North Wales also experienced a 20% rise over 2008 figures.
Whilst exceptional, this is not necessarily the pattern across all MR Teams.
But given a 14% increase in the number of individual team involvement call-outs across the Lake District area as a whole, prior to the August Bank Holiday, its clear that the demand on some MRTs is in danger of becoming untenable. Particularly for the many volunteers who freely give of their time, and live with the disruption to their personal & work life.
Basecamp proffers one solution, suggesting increasing awareness amongst groups on mountain activities.
I've a few more radical ideas concerning individual responsibility, self-assist, common sense, and unnatural hiding places for improperly used mobile phones.
But perhaps its better I resist the temptation to go into detail.
Well for the present, at least.
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT), Mountain Resuce Team MRT BASECAMP, Wales
Monday, October 5
Three Peaks, Slow Peaks
Whilst doing the last minute packing earlier this evening I was listening to BBC Radio 4's CostingThe Earth program (On Listen Again Now for the next 7 days).
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
Tuesday, August 11
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Over the years I've found the forecasts to be accurate, detailed & (for a solo hillwalker), key when pondering the next day's route.
To go high…..or low?
An important question for a walker travelling with no schedule to keep, other than to see what's beyond the next range of felltops.
But no matter what my intent, realism dictates that I should bend with the weather's vagaries, especially where extreme conditions are forecast.
(Wildcamping - ah so pretty)Even in less inclement weather the choice between a high ridge walk in dense rain cloud, or a valley meander accompanied by patchy showers, can be the difference between a hard day with little enjoyment or an pleasant day of exploration.
(Wildcamping - ugh not so pretty)That's even more relevant when high wind speeds are the alternative between safe passage low down or the increased risk of being knocked off my feet when ridging along exposed tops.
So thanks to the latest TGO Magazine for alerting me to the fact that the telephone no. for The Lake District Weatherline has recently changed to 0844 846 2444.
(Being curious, I tried the old number earlier today, only to be met with a recorded message giving a company's name and address details. But not a lot of guidance as to whether it will rain in Keswick tomorrow)
And whilst on the subject of Lakeland weather - fancy a job as a Fell Top Assessor?
"….report on the fell conditions from the summit area of Helvellyn from December through to April. Working seven days on and seven days off, including weekends and bank holidays, you will need to be able to climb from Glenridding to the summit of Helvellyn and back in four hours"
Well that’s probably me out of the running.
Then again the daily commute from the south coast might just get me down in the end.
Wonder whether any of the Assessors have ever thought about just wildcamping for their week in a nearby sheltered spot?
Now there's an idea.
And to get paid for it as well.
Hmmmm
Labels: Lake District, National Park, nature
Flooding - bring it home
Like you I've heard & seen the news reports about the Cockermouth floods. Whilst there is considerable disruption & damage, there is a niggling temptation to wonder if the press reports have concentrated on the more extreme, TV friendly, areas.
Over on the Mad About Mountains are a range of snaps covering Keswick town centre. And for those that have spent long hours waiting outside Booth's Supermarket for a bus/coach link, or stayed at the YHA - the pictures tell the story with far more personal impact.
A range of scenes from today around Keswick, and yesterday from Latrigg.
Bad. But bearing in mind how things looked like when it was really raining, the situation could have turned out much worse.
A big well done to all the rescue services concerned.
But lets not forget efforts of the MRT whose Basecamp supporter's site updates on Facebook illustrate the long and arduous activity the teams of volunteers, pulled in from many areas, have been involved with over the last few days.
Time for a donation. Or better still join Basecamp?
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, November 9
Mountain Rescue Services - Call-outs on the rise in 2009?
October's Mountain Rescue magazine dropped onto the doormat a few weeks ago, but it was only the past few days that I found time to sit down and peruse it at leisure.
As a member of Basecamp, the MRT Support Club for England & Wales, this comes as part of the membership package and is always an interesting read. Content is geared (naturally) towards MRT personnel, but there is usually a couple of items that catch my interest as a non-MRT reader (See July's piece concerning mobile telephone access to emergency services)
The latest issue was no exception with a report that Keswick MRT calls hit 100 in late August, an increase of 77% compared to 2008, and a 66% increase in alerts. North Wales also experienced a 20% rise over 2008 figures.
Whilst exceptional, this is not necessarily the pattern across all MR Teams.
But given a 14% increase in the number of individual team involvement call-outs across the Lake District area as a whole, prior to the August Bank Holiday, its clear that the demand on some MRTs is in danger of becoming untenable. Particularly for the many volunteers who freely give of their time, and live with the disruption to their personal & work life.
Basecamp proffers one solution, suggesting increasing awareness amongst groups on mountain activities.
I've a few more radical ideas concerning individual responsibility, self-assist, common sense, and unnatural hiding places for improperly used mobile phones.
But perhaps its better I resist the temptation to go into detail.
Well for the present, at least.
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT), Mountain Resuce Team MRT BASECAMP, Wales
Monday, October 5
Three Peaks, Slow Peaks
Whilst doing the last minute packing earlier this evening I was listening to BBC Radio 4's CostingThe Earth program (On Listen Again Now for the next 7 days).
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
Tuesday, August 11
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Over on the Mad About Mountains are a range of snaps covering Keswick town centre. And for those that have spent long hours waiting outside Booth's Supermarket for a bus/coach link, or stayed at the YHA - the pictures tell the story with far more personal impact.
A range of scenes from today around Keswick, and yesterday from Latrigg.
Bad. But bearing in mind how things looked like when it was really raining, the situation could have turned out much worse.
A big well done to all the rescue services concerned.
But lets not forget efforts of the MRT whose Basecamp supporter's site updates on Facebook illustrate the long and arduous activity the teams of volunteers, pulled in from many areas, have been involved with over the last few days.
Time for a donation. Or better still join Basecamp?
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team MRT BASECAMP, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Mountain Rescue Services - Call-outs on the rise in 2009?
October's Mountain Rescue magazine dropped onto the doormat a few weeks ago, but it was only the past few days that I found time to sit down and peruse it at leisure.
As a member of Basecamp, the MRT Support Club for England & Wales, this comes as part of the membership package and is always an interesting read. Content is geared (naturally) towards MRT personnel, but there is usually a couple of items that catch my interest as a non-MRT reader (See July's piece concerning mobile telephone access to emergency services)
The latest issue was no exception with a report that Keswick MRT calls hit 100 in late August, an increase of 77% compared to 2008, and a 66% increase in alerts. North Wales also experienced a 20% rise over 2008 figures.
Whilst exceptional, this is not necessarily the pattern across all MR Teams.
But given a 14% increase in the number of individual team involvement call-outs across the Lake District area as a whole, prior to the August Bank Holiday, its clear that the demand on some MRTs is in danger of becoming untenable. Particularly for the many volunteers who freely give of their time, and live with the disruption to their personal & work life.
Basecamp proffers one solution, suggesting increasing awareness amongst groups on mountain activities.
I've a few more radical ideas concerning individual responsibility, self-assist, common sense, and unnatural hiding places for improperly used mobile phones.
But perhaps its better I resist the temptation to go into detail.
Well for the present, at least.
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT), Mountain Resuce Team MRT BASECAMP, Wales
Monday, October 5
Three Peaks, Slow Peaks
Whilst doing the last minute packing earlier this evening I was listening to BBC Radio 4's CostingThe Earth program (On Listen Again Now for the next 7 days).
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
Tuesday, August 11
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT), Mountain Resuce Team MRT BASECAMP, Wales
Three Peaks, Slow Peaks
Whilst doing the last minute packing earlier this evening I was listening to BBC Radio 4's CostingThe Earth program (On Listen Again Now for the next 7 days).
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
Tuesday, August 11
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
"Every year around 60,000 people set out on the Three Peaks Challenge, aiming to climb the highest mountains in England, Wales and Scotland. Most do it to raise money for charity but there are increasing worries that the challenge is putting too much pressure on the environment, destroying some of our most beautiful places"
I was half listening to the usual pros & cons. All equally valid in their way, but nothing unusual.
Then towards the program's end a Snowdonia National Park Ranger provides a very evenly balanced view on mountain usage and its users. During his piece, he comes up with an interesting line of thought as to the Time element of the Challenge, citing that as one of the underlying causes that inevitably leads to the concentration of so many people gathering in a few very specific spots, typically at unsocial hours.
The program is worth listening to for this section alone (IMHO) suggesting a possible way for such Charity Challenges to continue into the future, whilst balancing local sensibilities.
I'm reminded of a comment attributed to Wainwright on hearing that someone had recently run the Pennine Way in under 3 days
"Why?"
Whilst it wasn't expressly said the program left me with an intriguing idea for a new event of this type.
Welcome to 'The Three Peaks Slow Challenge'.
Think about it for a moment........
Forget 3 peaks in 24 hours.
How about 3 peaks in as long a period as it takes to properly saviour each mountain?
Possibly start with different ascent & descent routes. Then build in timing each peak's top to enjoy a sunrise, sunset, or even perhaps a night on the mountain.
Certainly consider banning the use of mobile phones, unless by the Group Leader in the event of an emergency. With event exclusion being a penalty for abuse, especially when involving Mountain Rescue Services.
How about a 'Guess the Number' lottery for items of litter picked up along the way? A different way to garnish additional donations whilst being of immense usefulness.
Maybe even a 3 peaks - 3 wildcamps approach for instance? (That's not really going to affect most of us regular wildcampers by the way. We tend to steer clear of such peaks, due to their over popularity)
Lets take it further still. The winner (because such things always seem to turn into a competition) - the slowest time to "do" the 3 Peaks, with the most amount of enjoyment. Choose your own measurement.
Think the idea might catch on?
Certainly more of a Challenge from what I can see.
Labels: Lake District, media, Scotland, Wales
MRT Rescue. Addictive. Discuss.
It would certainly seem so for one hapless individual requiring MRT assistance for the second year in a row.
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Monday, May 25
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
A pity he was leading a walking group of 23 people on Scafell Pike - some "wearing t-shirts and trainers"
Isn't there an ancient Westmorland statute that deters the in-breeding of village idiots?
Perhaps it doesn't apply to In-comers.
Hey! Give me six!
Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Wash-Up
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all. As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip. If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX) (Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them. Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 24
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
The Stats:
Day 1: GRAMSERE - ALCOCK TARN; Distance -1.5mile; Ascent - 377m; Average Speed - 2.3mph; Wildcamp @ 337m;
Day 2: ALCOCK TARN - HARD TARN; Distance - 6mile; Ascent - 865m; Average Speed - 2.1mph; Wildcamp @ 677m;
Day 3: HARD TARN - RAINSBORROW TARN; Distance - 8 mile; Ascent - 650m; Average Speed - 2.6mph; Wildcamp @ 632m;
Day 4: RAINSBORROW TARN - AMBLESIDE YHA; Distance - 6.5 mile; Average Speed - 2.8mph;
TOTAL: Distance - 22 mile; Average Speed - 2.25 mph
Summing Up:
A deliberate decision to base this trip around a series of wildcamps at off the beaten track Tarns was a change from the usual walk/stop approach. I tried to avoid covering old ground which proved difficult as most of the spots I wanted to visit were lifted from past trip notes - which meant revisiting familiar areas.
This year I've found the wildcamping, especially joining together a number of nights, more attractive than the walking between them. One or two nights is good, but for me it's only night three and beyond that things really start to settle into a much deeper enjoyment of the whole experience.
I may not have covered much distance on this outing, but despite the atrocious weather (because of it?) I returned refreshed, relaxed & more confident in my solo outdoor trips. I found new ideas were spontaneously welling up and with them a rising urge to get straight back out again for an extended period as soon possible.
On that basis a beneficial approach well worth repeating. And not even June and the warm weather yet!
Lessons learnt, Tips & Tricks:
Gear:
Sleeping
The
Mountain Equipment Xero 350 sleeping bag performed faultlessly providing warmth and comfort during damp and difficult circumstances. The slightly larger pack-down size wasn't noticeable at all.As a true 3 season bag I'd thoroughly recommend it, based on some extreme weather.
Waterproof
Similarly the Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock finally had the sort of weather I'd wanted for a true test. I'd found an old stuff sack that once contained a pair of Regatta waterproof trousers, which was ample enough to pack it down very small. Once I'd got used to the smock style fit it I wore it in wet weather, but also in windy conditions, making occasional use of the excellent side vent zips as necessary.
Effectively it totally replaced my favourite piece of kit the
Montane Featherlight windshirt something I wouldn't have thought possible before this trip.If I had to make any criticism (and I'm trying hard here) the wrist cuffs feel a little 'skimpy' with their simple velcro/band closure. They work, but perhaps its me getting used to the minimalist approach.
On the plus side this provides a quick release to pull the sleeves up high on the arms as it starts to warm up. The main trick, which I'd anticipated, was to treat this is a specialist and tailored piece of kit. As a result it wasn't a case of just throw it on and go; A few extra few seconds were required to ensure correct fit. Principally this meant pulling down the smock's tail, after putting on the backpack, which tended to ride up slightly during the usual pack onto back manoeuvres.
A very minor point mentioned to illustrate the adaption process required for tailored gear.
Basically I grew to love it very very quickly, especially in the foul conditions I encountered.
Cooking
After my recent experience on Dartmoor I measured all water prior to heating. One EPIGAS 100g container lasted from Day 1 until the penultimate brew on Monday morning – a 3 day use. As I brewed up more than normal on Sunday, tent bound during the bad weather, it may have even lasted through to a 4th night.
Electronics
I loaded new Lithium AAA batteries in the GPS before I left. They were replaced as a matter of course when I got back home. No spares were required. This time I saved the tracklogs following a query from
Geoff. (Stage 1 - GPX; Stage 2 - GPX)(Let me know if they work?)
Rucksack
After many years of using my no-name old faithful I took a harder look at how I approached loading it. There is a zipped partition two thirds of the way down the pack, which I'd always used to keep the tent/waterproofs separate from the main pack. I'm still on the lookout for a lighter replacement, offering the same load flexibility/packing system which works for me. Hence pack size had been a critical question.
Mine is labelled as 60+, and at trip start, fully loaded with walking boots stowed away for safer public transport travel. So I'd reckon thats 60-65 litre capacity.
By trip end I've reduced pack volume down to the lower of its two drawstring collars, - around the 50 litre mark at a guess. So a 55-60 litre pack is the likely best fit for me.
As an experiment I finally unzipped the panel and suddenly found a spare 10 litre capacity as a result!
That suggested whilst the upper section was packing down tight up until now I have inadvertently been losing carry capacity at the cost of the pack looking more streamline in the lower section.
Needless to say the partition will not be brought back into use.
(I finally got my hands on a Exos 46 in Ambleside, in lieu of my current wish-list pack the Exos 58, which still seems to be as rare as hen's teeth in the flesh. I wasn't that impressed with the 46 – it looked a little flimsy around the loading/shoulder straps, but I can't fault the general design. The 58 model remains on my preference list, but I'll need to take a very hard look at it. I don't collect gear that doesn't pay its way)
Tent
I have nothing but total admiration for my Hilleberg Akto tent.
The more I use it the more I've come to appreciate the design and robustness. It's certainly not the lightest kit on the market, and the design has changed little since its original appearance a decade ago. The reason - it works so well.
The only persistent niggle is my tendency to trap the flysheet zip in the rain protection cover when unzipping from inside the tent.
I picked up Hilleberg's catalogue in another gear shop (a great read BTW, not the usual dry product marketing bumph) They suggest placing a finger ahead of the zipper to avoid catching the tent fabric. I'll try it next time I'm out, but its always been one of those quirks that has me mildly cursing each time it happens, but I've still not had that brainwave as to how to modify it.
Tent pegs
If I was to say that this is the only
replacement gear where I've actually added weight, you may appreciate how highly I rate them.Its ok to use short titanium stubs for low level camping, but in bad conditions the peg and guy rope configuration are key to tent performance.
Lying storm bound and buffeted inside the tent I blessed the fact I'd upgraded the pegs. They bite into the ground, and stay exactly where placed. Job done.
I spotted a similar design from Hilleberg in Ambleside's Field and Trek – and its something now offered as standard with some of the Hilleberg range (Y peg groundpeg). A very sensible upgrade.
Map
Harvey's Lakeland Central 1:25,000 – great map & very readable. But why only print on side of the sheet? Either half the paper size, or provide a wider coverage.
Nature:
Skylarks, sheep, weasel, sheep, deer, sheep.
Did I mention the sheep?
Food:
After the success of pitta bread on my last outing I picked up on feedback and tried tortillas, cut down for easier packing. They felt heavier but are far tastier, and possibly slightly more nutritious?
In bad weather I was able to make a fresh lunchtime snack by laying a few slices of salami onto half a wrap and then rolling it up, to be eaten alongside Baby-Bel cheese.
A boost to the spirit, as well as the stomach, during some of the harder sections.
Transport:
The direct Bournemouth-Manchester train runs hourly during the times I required it, which made my trip planning much more flexible.
Tying it to the direct Manchester- Oxenholme train clinches the deal for future trips.
Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Tue May 19th
Before the wash-up post, a few words about the YHA, and Ambleside hostel in particular.
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)
I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Saturday, May 23
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
I've stayed at YHA hostels across the length and breadth of the UK since my first backpacking trip in the mid 70s (Llanbedr to Bangor - carrying kitchen sink and all) So I've some experience of the cultural changes across the organisation over the years, especially in the last two to three.
Whilst I can be a little nostalgic at times about the special atmosphere each hostel had in times past I'm realistic enough to acknowledge that the YHA has had to adapt to modern market conditions. Or cease to exist. At times some change seems to have been almost contrary to the ethos behind the organisation's original aims. But like most modern businesses (for that is what it must be to survive) change will be a continual and evolving process. With mistakes along the way.
I'm not keen on Ambleside YHA. Too large. Too impersonal. Too prone to school parties & day trippers. On the other hand it is ideally located for Ambleside, the Windermere cruiser, and the regular 555 bus service north to Grasmere/Keswick or south to Windermere Railway.
So an ideal hop on/off point, and why I stick with it despite some reservations.
As I’d already mentioned earlier trying to book a bed for the night had turned into a farce. On the plus side Ambleside's policy of offering Bed & Breakfast as a minimum has, I'm happy to say, now been dropped. Compared to past visits this time the YHA staff felt much more friendly and sincere, improving the general atmosphere of the hostel as a result.
I'm not too sure what bright spark decided to install a fully fitted bar on site, especially with the proximity of numerous pubs nearby, but that doesn't fit with the hostel's drive to attract school parties.
However I do suspect it might have had some small part to play in the detrimental nocturnal activity of a fellow roommate who managed to pass from taciturn window gazing/snacking to unconsciousness in a matter of minutes. Predictably, considering the position he lapsed into, that resulted in that great YHA bugbear - the Snorer From Hell. Well , they all have one, but this bloke surpassed every other contender I've ever had the misfortune to encounter over the years. Even over the rock music playing on my MP3 his sonic attack was unmistakable.
After twenty minutes he had a choking fit (I didn't touch him - honest) which resulted in his adopting a more normal sleeping position. The intensity of his speciality lessened. but not by much.
Luckily I was tuckered out after the last few days, and surprisingly managed to fall sleep. But given that it was still early the rest of the room had to contend with the assault as they crept to bed later in the evening.
One young guy I chatted with during the stay resorted to sleeping in the YHA lounge, amongst a number of other rooms (Hi Danny - hope it all works out for you) Or should I say tried to sleep. I thought I was first up the following morning, only to find the poor lad wandering wraith like & red-eyed around the hostel ground floor after a singularly unsuccessful night trying to find a dark/quiet corner to curl up and pass out.
OK. All you hostelers will have a similar tale I'm sure. Some even take the earplug/eyeshade approach. But there's got to be a better way surely?
On the positive side during this stay I was lucky enough to meet some like minded people and trade tales & experiences; Despite, inevitably, kids bouncing off the walls at times. For me that what hosteling is all about. Spending time, however transitory, with people from diverse backgrounds, but mostly sharing the urge to explore the world in their own particular way.
Its an unique strength that the YHA has largely lost, save in the occasional small/basic hostel. A major selling point really. But as to how to use it, if indeed it can ever be recovered….I've no idea.
Its this factor, not the accommodation cost, that keeps me renewing my membership. For a few pounds more I would have privacy & comfort in a B&B or budget hotel. But I prefer that old YHA buzz of interesting people stepping outside their normal lives to do something for themselves.
(The last morning)I caught the early bus down to Windermere railway and ducked inside Booths Supermarket next door for a newspaper. Since my last visit Booths has added a fine café section, which offers a clear view of the station platform. So no more hanging around in the cold and rain for me from now on.
The return trip home was long and largely uneventful. For a change I fell into a couple of reasonably long conversations along the way. I'm normally an MP3-book out-leave me alone rail traveller but after the relaxation(!) of recent days I was more open to sharing time with those around me. Wonder how long that will last?
This time the change-over at Manchester Piccadilly gave me a chance to check out the local facilities. As I've discovered it offers a hourly direct service to Bournemouth it’s a route I think I’ll be using more in the future. One tip though - beware the station toilets - 30p entry!
I sat with crossed legs until the train arrived.
Given the amount of fast food/coffee bars in the esplanade those facilities must make a fortune.
As the train worked its way southwards the sky cleared until finally I disembarked to warm weather and bright sunshine. Bloody typical.
'Oh its been bad weather down here', I was told later.
'Not as bad as where I've been' I thought quietly to myself, gritting my teeth.
Another trip complete; This one rather more eventful than usual, leaving me much to reflect, and a few formative ideas for future pieces.
But for the moment, time to round it all up for the Wash-Up report.
Labels: Lake District, YHA
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Mon May 18th
I was woken at 2 a.m. to rain hammering on the flysheet, wind howling, & random shuddering of the inner tent. I lay for some time listening. Well it was somewhat hard to ignore.
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Thursday, May 21
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Years past, in these sort of ferocious conditions, I would have been up & packing whatever I could salvage before heading down to the comparatively better sheltered valley.
But with the benefit of experience & a trust in selected quality gear tailored for high level fellside wildcamping I wasn't immediately concerned.
I lay there listening to the storm, weighing up the comparative risks of tried and tested gear against the dangers of a night time evacuation in undoubtedly foul conditions.
Was I in immediate danger? Not really - I was dry, warm & well sheltered. But as the storm continued I had to remind myself of the real risk - my own attitude to what was happening.
Concern - reasonable and natural.
Panic - unacceptable and probably dangerous.
Complacency or over-confidence - Ah, now that one required a little more objective reflection.
After many solo trips my level of self reliance, weighing risk & benefit, is higher than many I would think. But it is all too easy to try to mould natural phenomena to fit ones own mental state. And in the intense storm, smug complacency could be lethal. Especially as I mentally reviewed my chosen pitch & remembered the 200-300m drop not 20m away.
Time for a response. Positive action to assess the situation.
First call - the state of the tent.
A lull in the rain.
I grabbed my headtorch from its usual position hanging from the tent apex and switching it on looked around the inner tent. No obvious leaks, but a lot of condensation.
As I moved to unzip the flysheet I could see most the cooking gear covered in water droplets. Hard to tell if that was also condensation or water being forced through flysheet weak spots.
Muscles still slow from the previous days exercise I stood outside the tent; A strange sight clad only in underwear, merino top, trail shoes and a head torch. What the heck - I could guarantee there was no-one else around to enjoy this spectacle.
I circled the tent checking the position of each peg, and guy rope. Except for my feet making an unexpected splashing sound as I moved around the head of the tent there was no change in the pegging. The new pegs, bought a few months ago for this very sort of situation, were firmly bedded in as though I’d just pitched the tent. The Akto, as I’d suspected, was standing up to the storm with fine aplomb.
I slipped back into my sleeping bag, a little colder than before, but with caution satisfied. I rechecked that the skirt of the inner tent's groundsheet was properly positioned in case the localised flooding became worse, and with a mental shrug I slid easily back into sleep.
7 a.m. Light. The storm still blowing, but with less ferocity than before. A quick peak under the fly showed near zero visibility as the rainclouds hid the landscape. The nearby tarn surface chopped with waves.
Brew-up, dressed and packed, all without unzipping the flysheet. The joy of the Akto is a large enough vestibule, and adjustable upper vent, that means cooking in the dry is a simple task, with a degree of sensible precaution.
Predictably the inside of the tent was damp, but only from condensation. I could still see my breath, the temperature at 7 deg C, the same as the previous evening.
Finally, again full kitted in full foul weather gear, the flysheet was unzipped and I stepped into the maelstrom quickly taking down the tent and packing it away. The tops of the pegs at tent head, I noted, 3-5 inches under water.
During my exploration of the previous evening I'd mentally marked the exit route to head back up the slope of Yoke. Head already bowed down to avoid the stinging rain; Aware of the need for careful assessment of the ground ahead, now likely to be rain saturated & boggy.
But before I left I turned for a moment to look at the dry sheltered spot I'd slept in. An enlarging pool of water slowly rising towards it. Better a little damp, but sheltered, rather than a fine view ending with an involuntary flying lesson.
The descent back to Garburn Road was uneventful. Hands quickly turned red from wind chill until I hid them behind my back. It wasn't until I was part way down the rocky, water bountiful track, did I finally find some limited shelter from the incessant wind and rain. What a difference to the last time I walked down this way, then dehydrated and mentally bemoaning the total lack of water sources. No such problem today.
Visibility started to improve as I approached Troutbeck. By the time I'd crossed the main road and walked over the bridge with its swollen rain fuelled torrent below, the rain had finally stopped. I walked along the road up towards Troutbeck Post Office (GR: 406 026) past hedgerows of bluebells and long, long, stretches of white flowered wild garlic with their strong distinctive smell.
I finally stopped for a break outside the P.O. to take-on some snacks and fluid.
As I tarried a couple of small walking parties passed by. One stopped to pass the time of day as he packed away his waterproof. 'Too hot for that today' he reflected. Optimistic bugger, I quietly thought, realising I’d been wearing the Paramo almost non stop since stepping off the train on Friday afternoon.
But, as often is the way in a valley climate, his optimism was rewarded. Turning up Robin Lane the wind started to drop, and the sun appeared. By the time I'd reached the rich splendour of Skelghyll Wood (GR: 383 029) the weather was all smiles and winks. The woodland tracks, as I’d discovered on a previous visit, confusing in places, but the surroundings full of wild flowers, birdsong and the noise of varied water courses all seeking the quickest way downhill. It’s a beautiful spot for a few hours meander, and probably rarely visited except by Amblesiders who are aware of its richness.
The finally stretch of path. Steep, wet, debris filled and unstable. Careful John - it wouldn’t do to tumble on the last few steps of the journey.
Finally the YHA, and the usual negotiation for accommodation. 'Rooms not ready until 2pm'. Instead I found a cubby-hole shower and peeling off my walking gear let the warm water spray wash away the sweat and grime of the last few days. Managing to inadvertently head butt the edge of the shower door in the limited space, leaving an impressive cut. Ouch!
And then?
Well what else to do - the gear shops of Ambleside. Which I have to say seem to have multiplied slightly, but have lost their edge in offering interesting equipment at a price that I’d be willing to pay. Lots of outdoor gear with well known High Street/Designer brand names. Very little innovation. Few bargains at this end of the season.
Back at the YHA I chatted with a couple of room mates who'd camped the night before at a site near Keswick. In the sheltered valley their tent, despite a recent reproof, had leaked under the intensity of the downpour and has been relegated to the campsite's rubbish bin in disgust.
The last 24 hours had been a real test of experience, gear choice, and it's use. Happily all coming together on this occasion.
But even as I write these words a week later I truly understand how the situation could have quickly escalated into a less positive outcome.
Was I wrong to camp on the crag? Possibly.
Did I take suitable precautions? Definitely.
Have a learnt anything? Well its ok to be concerned, as long as its based on a realistic assessment of the situation. The things that are within one's control have to be managed and applied properly. Things beyond control must be truthfully measured and a risk/ability response made.
But in the end self reliance means an ownership of ones own actions. That requires a self-awareness of skills and limitations.
Easy to say, harder to deliver.
As I lay storm battered inside the man-made safe cocoon of my tent during the night one phrase kept returning. 'If it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger'
Personally I prefer not to test the 'kill you bit' of that twee catchism.
Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sun May 17th
The previous evening I'd worked out that by missing out the central Lakeland wildcamps I’d solved my original transport problem of gettting from Grasmere to Troutbeck for my second objective on this trip.
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)
By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)
On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)
As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)
A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)
Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)
Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.Labels: Lake District
Wednesday, May 20
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Back home, pouring over the map and bus timetables the obvious solution was to hop from Grasmere to Windermere and pick up the weekend only 519 service to Kentmere. That was until I looked for a bus timetable - the service was listed on the Cumbria bus routemap, but it had ceased. A quick post on Outdoors Magic had confirmed a general lack of alternatives.
It seemed the only options were a long walk between two points covering old ground & a new section with little attraction; Or hop a taxi.
Neither solution felt right. So the decision to pick up the limited weekend 517 service in Patterdale solved this quickly moving along the Kirkstone Pass, down to Troutbeck. Only draw back -the service runs three times a day, so missing the connection meant a very long roadside wait. Or hope that some kindly Sunday driver would take pity on a rather smelly backpacker, roadside with a thumb aloft looking for a ride.
With a deadline to hit I was awake early for the haul down the valley to Patterdale. Some of the stronger wind gusts overnight had at times threatened to flatten the tent. But the Akto, as ever, took it all and bounced right back.
Opening the flysheet I was surprised to be met by a wonderfully clear and sunny morning. Over a brew and quick breakfast I sat on a warm boulder watching as two birds buzz bombed a weasel working its way around the boulders. Oblivious to my presence, I spent 10 minutes in their company. The weasel busily looking for its own breakfast; The birds most insistent that it wouldn’t involve them or their prodigy. Even in the remotest area nature reminds that the human is the interloper, as the natural world appears from hiding to continue the daily battle of survival in high places.
But little time to tarry if I was to catch that bus. If I thought the ascent the previous day had been hard work the descent over rough ground on cold leg muscles was about as bad. Especially with a necessary wariness of sliding on the steeper sections, grass wet from morning dew.
(Half way down)
(or half way up?)By the time I'd finally returned to the Outward Bound hut my thigh muscles were burning, and my achilles tendon injury, courtesy of the Dartmoor April trip, had started to make its presence felt again.
The path into Patterdale was deserted at this time of the early morning, save for the usual sheep and a quick glimpse of deer deep inside pathside woodland. The wind had dropped, but I was sticking with the Paramo, side vents unzipped, sleeves rolled up, keeping the still present wind from cooling me down.
My timing was good. Just long enough to sort out my kit, grab a quick snack and then hop aboard the bus. At the next stop a couple of fellow wildcampers got on, after a night at Brothers Water they'd similarly found the wind troublesome. As the bus passed the Kirkstone Inn I sat with the map in my lap trying to spot some tracks on the far fellside in the hope I could make the afternoon route a more direct ascent, rather than meander up the Troutbeck valley northwards, only to then turn southwards and walk back towards tonight's objective.
A couple of likely options were just falling into place, when I realised the bus driver had passed straight though Troutbeck village, and out the other side.
Happily he stopped when asked. Unhappily I was now a couple of miles beyond my intended start point and looking at a road walk back to the village before I even got started on the real meat of the day.
Bugger. More replanning. Again. Seems this trip was turning into a test of adaptability.
The last time I descended Garburn Road I was badly dehydrated after a long ridge walk the previous day from Patterdale in a heat wave. I'd wildcamped at the edge of the ridge (GR: 436 061) near Yoke eking out 3 litres of water over 30+ hours. I recalled the Garburn Road descent as a waterless & foot bashing slog. The track was rockily uneven along much of its length. A place where any lack of concentration could result in a bad stumble & possible injury. I really didn’t fancy repeating that. But it looked like the nearby Longmire Road (GR: 414 013) leading onto Garburn Pass was the most obvious option.
In the event the track wasn't as bad as I remembered it, with signs that some remedial work had been done to reduce the more troublesome sections. As I climbed the clouds moved back in from behind me, rain holding off but the wind once again starting to build. Worryingly it was coming in from the east, and the crag I was heading for had scant protection only on the west side.
The fellside track leading from Garburn Road onto Yoke was still under construction last time I passed through. I remember sitting high on the ridge, warm in just a pair of shorts, listening to the radio coverage as England departed the 2006 World Cup. Below a digger work late into the evening, the driver similarly intent it seemed on listening to the game. For when it finished he stopped, jumped aboard a quad bike and rode off leaving the fellside finally silent as the sound of the bike disappeared down into the valley far below.
Now, three years later, the boggier parts, despite intense rainfall, had been mostly averted and the track surface was smooth enough to attract the attention of a number of mountain bikers descending at speed as I walked in the opposite way. Time has turned the then ravaged fell into a more natural track. Although its wide and strident mark across the fell remains uncharacteristic and at times an ugly feature.
It was during that 2006 trip, moving southwards over Ill Bell (GR: 436 077), that I'd first spotted my tarn.
(Sunnier days)On that hot day it had glittered in the bright sunshine. In the distant heat haze it seemed a beckoning jewel laying along the remote crag. I'd had a cursory look for it later that day, but to no avail. Back home I’d spent some time tracking it down, unnamed as it is on the OS map. During my research I'd found very few pictures of the tarn; But several warnings about its difficult position high on an exposed crag.
Even my usually reliable reference works didn't mention this water (For those interested - Heaton-Cooper 'The Tarns of Lakeland';Don Blair- 'Exploring Lakeland Tarns')
[So baring any earlier claims I name this place Rainsborrow Tarn (GR: 443 068); But I won't be claiming squatter's rights just yet!]
I sheltered behind the fell wall, by the newly constructed stile before making the final steep ascent onto Yoke.
By now the buffeting wind was making progress difficult at times. Mentally I was already considering a quick visit to the Tarn, a restock on water, and then a sheltered wildcamp pitch on the western slope of Yoke. If there was one to be found. But I was also aware that if there was any overnight wind shift the western slope could be as exposed.
At Yoke's cairn I picked up a small track to the right, descending eastwards on a compass and grid bearing. The slope of the hill hid any of the features further below.
Finally I spotted a line of old fence posts, leading in turn to the remains of a stone wall, and beyond it - the tarn itself.
(Rainsborrow Tarn)As I crossed over the wall I was already on the lookout for any sheltered pitches from the wind's increasing force. A couple of possibilities were lined up, but the surrounding ground, broken and peat bogged, suggested an area liable to flooding from the slopes above in heavy rainfall.
Perhaps the tarn would have something better - or would a strategic withdrawal be safer?
A quandry.
The immediate area around the tarn, whilst not under water, was clearly water logged. Sphagnum moss squelched as I moved over it. A few metres to the south of the tarn a shallow lip on a ridge below held a couple of smaller water pools, but in a truly exposed area.
(Here comes the rain)A quick circuit of the small water gave a couple of possibilities. A repeat exploration, with me hunkering down at tent height, confirmed that whilst not perfect, they offered reasonable wind shelter. Final selection - a spot in a dip. Not the by-the-book sort of camp spot, but with low shelter on three sides and the fourth open to the tarn, but directly in line with a large rock outcrop beyond, this seemed not only suitable, but actually felt better protected than the fellwall I'd hidden behind at the foot of Yoke.
(Rainsborrow Tarn wildcamp)Tent quickly up. Brew on. And then the rain hit. With a vengeance. Still only mid afternoon.
I spent the next few hours zipped comfortably inside the Akto, dry (for a change) and supping various brews and food. During a respite I took another turn around the area, hunting for a mobile phone signal to check in at home.
The crag was surrounded on three sides by steepish drops, the one behind the tent a plunge of a couple of hundred metres down to the old quarry workings above Kentmere Reservoir.
(Kentmere Reservoir)Despite the wind, rain & campsite concerns for once it looked like I’d finally beaten the weather. Dry and warm inside the tent.
Based on the weather to date, and the forecast for the next few days, there was little to be gained from staying out any longer. I’d visited both my main interests on this trip - Hard Tarn and Rainsborrow Tarn. Time to call an end.
I called Ambleside YHA to book a bed for the following night only to be met by a new auto-telephone system. The wind howled around me as I partly sheltered behind a convenient rock. Partly? Well any movement lost the mobile signal which despite the occasional view far off to the Welsh coast (I think) was wandering all over the place.
'Press button 1' etc etc. Finally - the booking service.
But no.
'Please leave a message and we'll get back to you within 24 hours; Or book on-line at www.yha….'
Great. Just what I needed as I hid away from the increasing wind-chill behind a rock high on a wind blasted crag. I explained my need, and the possible difficulty in 'getting back to me'. A text message would be preferable please.
(I'm still waiting for a response of any sort 4 days later)
Plan B- a quick call home to book via the web. God it was never this difficult in the past!
Back inside the tent the temperature was reading 7 deg C. But the humidity meant I could see each breath.
Time for warmth. I slipped inside by sleeping bag, ready for bed despite it not yet being 7pm.
And I do this for pleasure?
Hmm.
Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Sat May 16th
With a brief respite around 5am the night was wet and windy (mostly outside the tent - I blame the cafe's pizza topping!)
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)
I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)
Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)
I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade. (Panorama East to West)
As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Donning wet weather gear, chilled from the previous evening, I headed off into the rain cloud. Visibility was still virtually nil.
Crossing the wall at the tarn inlet to the east I picked up a slight track heading right, which turned out to be an easy route onto the wide Fairfield Horseshoe track around Lord Crag (GR: 354 076)
On a past trip I'd headed left from the inlet wall heading straight for Heron Pike. Rereading those trip notes earlier in the week I'd marked that down as "hard going-don't repeat". The new path was a doddle by comparison.
The first hour or so I had the rainclouds to myself. As the morning continued the poor weather started to clear, and with it came an occasional small group of hardy walkers doing the Horseshoe.
Despite the rain easing back to the occasional shower my waterproofs stayed on. The Paramo smock now doubling as an effective windcheater with the increasing wind gusts. The backpack's waterproof cover at times feeling like a candidate for manned kite flying, with me as the unwilling passenger.
I continued meandering ever upwards over familiar ground. The sight of Great Rigg rising high above me less of a challenge, merely another obstacle to pass over before the rigours of Fairfield.
(Fairfield ahead)I kept an eye out for a traverse around Fairfield's western flank, but with the wind and rainsoaked grass I decided to err on the side of caution.
Around the 825m contour line I spotted a safe path left which whilst missing out the summit cairns, also avoided the wind. Or so I hoped. No such luck. The slippery shale surfaced descent towards Grisedale Tarn (GR: 340 120) zigged and zagged me face first into a wild blast of air funnelled through the pass, drowning out Terry Pratchett's 'Small Gods' radio drama on my MP3. More like Yee Gods I thought as the gusts strengthened.
Down by the tarn the winds's ferocity was undiminished. Plans for a leisurely lunch were quickly abandoned as I hurriedly resupplied with water and headed down the Patterdale track to join a few hardy souls in the sheltered lea of Ruthwaite Lodge Hut (GR: 345 135)
At least the rain was continuing to hold off. I stoked up on carbs aware that the last stage for today, was going to be 'interesting'. A 300-400m steep ascent straight up from the valley, following Ruthwaite Beck, to Hard Tarn (GR: 346 138).
The next hour was a slow and sweaty slog ever upwards. Especially the last 20 minutes hunting for what seemed to be the increasing elusive tarn. Despite pre-research on the net, and some photos of the spot, this one is a real bugger to find on a first visit. I eventually spotted it 50m below me as I moved along the final ridge below Nethermost Pike (GR: 346 139)
Hard Tarn - I'm still not sure whether its so named because of its rock bound surroundings; Or the fact its so bloody difficult to find.
(Hard Tarn)Web photos had indicated some likely wildcamp pitches, but the combination of very wet ground and gusting wind led me to look for a sheltered spot. Not ideal. But not likely to suffer from flood or rock fall either.
It's a quiet and special place. Far from a path from or to anywhere. Unvisited unless for its own existence. Perched on the edge of a crag, today the heavy rainfall forming a small waterfall as the excess rainfall was blown over the bare flat rock down into the valley below.
Tent pitched most of my gear was strung along the guy lines in an attempt to dry it out. Or at least make it less sodden. Moving southwards around the ridge I found an erratic mobile signal, and checked-in at home. Despite the wind I spent a few minutes savouring an unusual view straight across to St Sunday Crag, and down the Patterdale valley and onto the distant hills beyond.
(St Sunday Crag)I checked the next day's weather forecast via the MWIS internet/mobile service) Not looking good - more of the same.
My original plan was a return to Grisedale Tarn, down to skirt the foot of Thirlmere Water and onto Blea Tarn (GR: 290 140) A night there before moving over High Raise (GR: 281 094) and Grasmere with a wildcamp at Codale Tarn (GR:296 088), another favourite spot of mine.
This central region of the Lakeland Fells has wonderful views. Supposedly. Every time I've covered the ground it's been in rain cloud and high wind. Judging by the weather so far, and the prediction for the next few days, it would be a fruitless trip. Best left for another time.
Maps spread out in the tent I came up with an alternative, and texted home the route changes.
Whilst I replanned the sun finally poked its head out for half an hour, before being chased away by the gusting wind. No rain though. The fell tops all around me stayed gloriously clear of cloud for many hours. But I suspect clear of people as well, as the evening light started to fade.
(Panorama East to West)As I cooked the evening meal I had entertainment in this solitary spot. A surreal sight. A wetsuit clad individual (and dog) suddenly appeared at the far side of the tarn, leapt yelling into the water, casually waved, and headed back into the crags above (Nope - I've no idea either)
In warm and sunny weather this would be an idyllic spot to spend a couple of days wildcamped, using it as a base to explore the less visited parts of the Helvellyn Ridge.
But today with wind gusts increasing in frequency my trip notes record "It's likely to be a noisy night, if this wind continues to pick up. Thankfully me and the Akto tent are old friends trusting of each others capabilities based on our shared hill experiences"
These would turn out to be prophetic words.
Labels: Lake District
Lake District: 3 Tarns Wildcamp: Fri May 15th
No matter which method I try the trip northwards always turns into a test of traveller stamina.
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Tuesday, May 19
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Stepping on the 8.15 train there was a vicarious thrill in hiding amongst the commuter crowds, but with a more interesting day ahead for me. This journey I changed at Manchester Piccadilly, rather than the usual Birmingham link. On this first visit I mentally linked the glum faced rushing crowds to their like named counterparts of London's Piccadilly Circus. Another madhouse I avoid like the plague. But on the plus side this was the only connection needed with the next train taking me directly to Windermere, and a quick hop aboard the 555 Lakeland bus onto Grasmere finally arriving around 5pm.
It had started raining as the train neared Cumbria, and judging from the steamed-up bus windows, Lakeland rain had been falling all day. Not looking good.
A usual wander around Grasmere village trying to find a hot meal at a reasonable price. With the usual failure as the daytime cafes closed for an hour or two, only to turn into bistro/restaurants for the evening. Their menus and prices leaping up to match their pretentions. Even the Red Lion Hotel, a past haunt for a good value meal, seemed to have joined Grasmere's fleece-the tourist. I finally grabbed last orders at the Miller Howe Cafe, watching the rain endlessly fall from my window table.
Oh well. Time to go with the flow. Quite literally.
Full foul weather gear on I walked along deserted roads of the village, following the road past Dove Cottage and up to the easy cart track leading to a favourite spot of mine, ALCOCK TARN (GR:348 078)
After 10 minutes on the track the mix of rainfall and humidity meant continually steamed up spectacles, ditched for the rest of the walk in. A rain soaked trudge up the path, found the tarn quiet as normal, and I quickly pitched, collected water and put on a brew before slipping into the warmth of my new Mountain Equipment sleeping bag. Only 8pm and in bed already.
The rain and wind continued intermittently as I lay listening to my MP3/Radio.
Putting on my final brew for the evening, above the noise of the wind-buffeted flysheet, came the clear sound of a cuckoo in the valley below. I stepped outside for the pre-sleep pee ritual. Visibility around me was down to less than 20, but still the bird's call continued for several minutes.
Hardy birds these Lakeland creatures. Never heard a cuckoo with a cough yet.
Labels: Lake District
Lake District - Hard Tarn
Finally, after a full day of bus, train (and finally) a few miles of countryside walking to stretch out lazy muscles, a little something to whet the appetite........
Labels: Lake District
Monday, May 18
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Labels: Lake District
Lake District Wildcamping Trip - Journey's end. Nearly.
Dateline: Ambleside YHA...
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.Labels: Lake District, walks
Wednesday, May 13
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Well another wildamping escapade draws to a close. Not so much beaten by the inclement weather; More of a mutually agreed draw. But it's been a close run thing at times.
Sat here on the hostel's steam-driven Internet connection (at a cost which appears I am paying for best anthracite coal to keep it lurching along) the train times for the journey back south are appearing as if by magic, making the rail trip on Tuesday a rather drawn out affair.
A chance then to reflect on 3 night's wildcamping in some of the worst weather I've encountered for many years.
Hang on. The boiler stoker is signalling to me that he needs a tea-break.
JH signing off for for the present.
Trip notes on their way.
Labels: Lake District, walks
Lake District Tarn Trip - Ready for the off
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.The second tarn in particular is not even named on the OS map, so no visitors there!The backpack is nearly ready awaiting the last couple of items of fresh food. The train tickets are in my wallet. The weather forecast looks poor.But hey ho, time for a long overdue return to the Lakes. A trip based around wildcamping at a number of tarn locations. This time out a journey to spend a night at remote or rarely visited spots, rather than covering distance.I'll let you know how it all went when I get back in sometime next week. Hopefully without webbed feet.Labels: Lake District
Sunday, May 10
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
.jpg)
I'd guess the tarns above are not recognisable to most of you reading this.
Labels: Lake District
Gear mania strikes again
A couple of weeks ago I semi seriously came up with the idea of Outdoor Gear Anonymous.
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)Labels: Gear, Lake District
Wednesday, April 15
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Well - "I am an Outdoor Gear Junky"
There. I've said it out loud.
You'd think with 22+ OS maps (not including some very old prints collected along the way) I've got enough.
But earlier today I laid out my Lake District OS maps to check I had the correct maps for the trip. It was then I realised I'd need all 4 maps.
Crikey! The weight is a bit over the top for the use I'll be making of them.
Falling back on my Harvey 1:40000 Lake District BMC Mountain map isn't an option. Great as it is for a route overview and walking distance it doesn't have the level of detail to spot the water sources I'll need for wildcamping.
So, on-line to check if the OS have finally decided to slim down their Lake District folios to double sided/fuller coverage. No joy - still 4 sheets for the area. But instead I discovered Harvey's Superwalker 1:25,000 range which offers the same coverage, but also includes one for Lakeland Central.
So that's another purchase then. Courtesy of Mapkiosk which if their service is as good as their price (free P&P!) I'll be back to in the future.
Its far too easy to spend money on kit without leaving the house these days.
Did I mention the Rab Microfleece ordered during the week, which arrived the following day?
No?
Err - that must have been an oversight on my part. Honest.
;-)
Labels: Gear, Lake District
Lakeland Mountain Rescue feels the strain
I call it the Bradbury effect.
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Sunday, December 21
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
Now before your lawyers start contacting my lawyers I really should qualify this a little.
Ms Bradbury has admirably managed to mine an interest in outdoor distance walking. Originally with the Wainwright Walks, then with Railway Walks, and most recently with Wainwright's Coast to Coast route.
All good stuff, and to be honest its rare to find any purist walking series that manages to stumble much beyond a single outing on British TV. JB has managed that with considerable success.
Now that's a Good Thing if it opens the eyes of those amongst the sedentary public at large who in the past were reluctant or uninformed.
But it all looks just so damned easy to do. Strap on some boots. Bung a few sarnies and the relevant guide book in a daysack. Oh and perhaps a map & compass if there's one around.
So how comes Lakeland MRT has need to widely publicise a worrying rise in call-outs.
LDSMRA chairman Richard Warren: “It is difficult to put a finger on why it is happening but there does appear to be an increase in the public’s interest in the challenge of the great outdoors.” The significant increase in workload for the rescuers is, he says, “putting a severe strain on our team members and their ability to make the necessary commitment and sacrifice, turning out for rescue after rescue.”
Of course its not directly down to Bradbury. After all there have been other TV shows in the past year also revealing some of the wilder land far from tarmacadam road. And whatever the reason, the genre seems to have hit a welcome note with the viewer at home.
But despite cautionary advice included along in each TV program as to appropriate clothing & safety, the number of ill prepared fellwalkers seems to be on the rise, along with that highly urbanised attitude. Namely calling for help on a mobile phone when the going gets uncomfortable.
Hands up all those who see the AA/RAC services changing a flat tyre at the side of the road nowadays? An all too common occurrence, and one that would have been unheard of 10 or 15 years ago when the emergency services were just that. For an EMERGENCY.
Its rather too easy to call for help these days. Even when its really not required. So with TV shows, despite their best efforts, showing just how easy it is to meet a new challenge, I personally can't see the tide turning where over stretched Mountain Rescue Teams are concerned.
Perhaps the 'Bradbury Effect' is ill-named?
How about Responsibility Abandonment Kills Outdoors For Sure (RAKOFs - think it'll catch on?)
Meanwhile, if you have wandered to this page as a result of some wild Googling exercise please take a few minutes to watch this MRT video on Mountain Safety.
Who knows - it may save your life one day. But better still perhaps you'll be prepared next time you go out on the hills.
Labels: Lake District, media, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Honister Hause Slate Mine - Collateral Damage?
From my Troll sources, deep and safely hidden in the ancient tunnels of Honister Slate Mine come rumblings - and the noises have nothing to do with mine stability (and yes we're talking about real Trolls rather than the web based annoyances)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
Following the intense media scrutiny of the OMM Challenge Event back in October, and the role played by the mine visitor centre, or more specifically mine owner, Mark Weir, local feelings continue to run high it seems.
Much of the striking video footage from the event was provided free of charge to the media by OMM competitors/walkers on the spot.
But reports are circulating, of alleged substantial reimbursements making their way to supplement the mine's usual income stream.
Naturally nothing untoward as recompense. But bearing in mind the role played by Honister, it could be considered as somewhat inconsiderate. Or possibly even outrageous.
My sources, being of a somewhat diminished stature & unable to appear during daylight hours to interact with local inhabitants, are as yet unable to verify such a claim (Ever tried to use a phone box when you're only 1 foot 6 inches tall?)
Whatever the truth, it is a hard commercial world out there; And as anyone who has visited Honister will well understand their potential revenue opportunities are somewhat limited.
But the various pronouncements made in the media during the event, alongside the no doubt well intentioned, but independent & possibly uncoordinated rescue effort arranged at the mine's initiative is having some collateral damage.
The interest that Honister has in forming a close and very formal association with local Mountain Rescue Teams, possibly even a permanent base siting, appears to be stalling at present. Particularly around certain commercial aspects. An issue which Mountain Rescue always treats with high sensitivity in order to maintain their independent and impartial status.
Whilst some local MRTs appear positive towards the suggestion the majority, it has been suggested, wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. Especially after OMM.
All of which remains conjecture for the present.
But Trolls have long lives and excellent memories. Alongside some very creative methods of digging down into dirt to find gems. A skill which they have spent many generations perfecting deep in the bowels of the earth.
Hopefully more to come, if the buggers can just work out how to work the telephone for the occasional update.
RIP Deep Throat. Hello Deep Troll?
Labels: Lake District, Mountain Rescue Team(MRT)
All site material © John Hee - ask before you snatch
