Mountains beginning with C (and a few others too.....)

8/9/10.4.14
Walking with; Nobody

  Wales in the sunshine, there can be few better places to spend a couple of days. I left Manchester under cloud but by the time I arrived in Conwy the sun was shining and the sky was blue dotted with a few cotton wool cumulus. The YHA http://www.yha.org.uk/hostel/conwy is a modern building perched on the hillside above the old town, and, as well as offering excellent views from the dining room and roof top viewing area, it is perfectly located to attack Conwy mountain or Mynydd Y Dref (Mountain of the town). At 244m, mountain might be stretching it a little but it's an interesting spot affording amazing views along the coast and across into Snowdonia. The summit ridge is dotted with remains of Neolithic huts and of a very substantial Iron Age hillfort. It made for a very pleasant couple of hours of strolling, there were spring Lambs finding their feet in the fields and Gulls and Ravens wheeling over head and I was reminded of the pleasures of walking by the sea. I finished my day with a walk around the old walls of the city, a mooch along the harbour arm where the Herring Gulls scrounged chips from visitors and a few pints in the excellent Albion alehouse http://albionalehouse.weebly.com/index.html, a gem of a pub situated in the heart of town.
  Wednesday, I headed into the Ogwen valley, one of the most spectacular spots in Wales, possibly even the UK. I parked at Idwal Cottage and set off on to the rocky lower slopes of Pen Yr Ole Wen. I'd admired this mountain many times from excursions up Tryfan,Y Garn and the Glydderau, and it had always looked like a gnarly, scrambly route up, and it proved to be exactly that. Apparently the name means "Head of the White Slope" and by the time I had made my way up on to the surprisingly broad, sloping summit dotted with snow on the North face, the name seemed to make sense. The 360 degree views were stunning and worthy of a short rest after the steep, rocky scramble up. The climb up onto Carnedd Daffyd, Wales's third highest peak and named after Dafydd ap Gruffud, the younger brother of Wales's last independent prince. Dafydd met a grisly end at the hands of Edward I and, as he was in the shadow of his regal brother, so the hill named for him sits in the shadow of Carnedd Llewelyn named after the last Welsh prince. The ridge between the two, known as Ysgolion Duon, is a fine walk with nerve shredding drops on one side, but once traversed the climb up to Llewelyn's summit is an easy one. I descended back on to the ridge before dropping down towards Llyn Ogwen and making my way back to my tent in the grounds of the hostel. I did a night nav that evening around Llyn Idwal, it's a very eerie area, the huge bowl of rock sitting around the lake and there are many myths and legends associated with it.
  Thursday, I drove out of the Ogwen valley and parked in Capel Curing in the shadow of Moel Siabod. I had heard that Plas-Y-Brenin use the area a round Crimpiau as a navigation practice area and had decided if it was good enough for them, it was good enough for me! It's a really beautiful area of lumps and bumps, hummocks, tussocks, marshes and rocks. Buzzards wheeled overhead "mewing" and soaring, Ravens cronked and Wild Ponies picked their way across the rocky slopes. I spent hours aiming off at spot heights, seeking out contours and drinking in the views of Siabod and back down the valley. From the top of Crimpiau itself (name very aptly means fine, high ridge) I watched a navigation workshop taking place far below and then followed the ridge line along to the pretty, turtle shaped Llyn Y Coryn and then onto Clogwyn Mawr which, after a short, steep scramble off the edge, I made my way back to the Moel Siabod cafe where I was rewarded with coffee and an excellent buttery, syrupy flapjack.
   So, a cracking couple of days walking in one of the most beautiful areas of Wales. Lots of mountains beginning with C and a fair few more of Wales's tallest peaks. However, the substantially lower peaks of Crimpiau and Conwy Mountain proved to be more than equal in terms of enjoyment. I can't wait to head back and maybe pick out a few decent wild camp spots tucked in and amongst these magnificent peaks.

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A Wasdale Wild camp

1/2/3.4.14
Walking with; Al

Choosing my favourite Lakeland valley is a little bit like being asked to name the best player in the Welsh rugby team of the 70s or the best pub in Manchester, there are many, many viable options in the frame. However, just as the names of JPR and "The Briton's Protection" end up coming to the fore more times than any other contender can manage, Wasdale is their Lake District equivalent. Ennerdale, Eskdale and Borrowdale all have their qualities and charms but in Wasdale you feel you are properly in real mountain country. It has the deepest lake and highest peak in England, it has "The Wasdale Head Inn" beloved of generations of climbers, the view of the lake from Scafell Pike was voted Britain's favourite and it is home to Joss Naylor, the greatest ever fell runner, it is a land worthy of the superlatives!
  Al and I parked up on the shores of Wastwater and after shouldering overnight packs (a bit of a shock to the system) headed off up Greendale Gill in distinctly un-Lakeland like sunshine. Greendale Tarn is beautifully situated between Seatallan and Middle Fell and after a quick lunch stop it was onwards in the direction of Haycock. The cloud level was low, but there was little breeze and the views down Nether Beck were sublime. The summit of Haycock was attained after a short, rocky scramble and it was on to Scoat Fell masked in cloud. Luckily, the cloud lifted and there stood the magnificent ridge of Steeple jutting out toward the re-wilding Ennerdale, another runner in the race for best valley. Wainwright said of Steeple, “Seen on a map, it commands the eye and quickens the pulse, seen in reality it does the same“ and he is right! It's a short scramble along the ridgeline to reach the summit and it's expansive views over Ennerdale are well worth the detour. From Steeple it was on to Pillar, the eighth highest peak in the Lakes, and a huge, broad summit topped with a wind shelter and number of cairns. The descent from Pillar is hard on the knees and by the time we reached the Black Sail Pass the packs were feeling heavy and our bellies growling, so we decided to set up camp for the night just above the second of the two small tarns in a perfectly sheltered spot. There was barely a breath of wind and the clouds were rolling over the hills into Ennerdale as we sat and cooked up our tea. It was a clear night and under a starry sky I did a little night nav whilst Al enjoyed the utter peace and solitude of this fantastic camp spot.
  A cuppa and porridge pot watching the sunrise....not a bad way to start the day, and then we were away to Kirk Fell. The scramble up Kirkfell Crags is a decent challenge with full pack but it wasn't long before we were crossing the expansive plateau towards the summit with views of the Scafell massif and Wastwater far below. Great Gable came next, a genuine contender for the best mountain in the Lakes and squeaking in at a disappointingly specific 899m! The climb up was not as gruelling as I remembered and it wasn't too long before we were stood before the Fell and Rock Climbing Club memorial plaque, there were still plenty of poppies and crosses remembering the fallen. Last time I'd been up there I'd ended up descending the screes in a state of exhilarated terror but this time we took the steep, but less terrifying route down to Styhead. Styhead is the Spaghetti Junction of this part of the world and as we approached we saw our first other walkers of the day, coming from all directions, we were amongst those carrying on to "The Corridor Route". Having only ascended Scafell Pike from Wasdale before this was a pleasantly walker free route with Wasdale Head sitting far below and the awesome slash of Piers Gill cutting through the rock beneath Lingmell. Ravens circled overhead as we hit Lingmell Coll and slogged up the last ascent to temporarily be the highest people in the whole of England. Scafell Pike often disappoints in terms of views due to cloud and rain but the views today were some of the best I've seen from this particular summit. As the highest peak in the country it is rarely quiet on the summit and it's less than pretty top is also rarely litter free. It's perplexing that anyone willing to expend the energy to climb to the top is unwilling to expend the additional energy to carry their crap off the top with them. It's hardly an original rant, but no less heartfelt for all that. We dropped down to Mickledore and from there descended the scree slope down to Hollow Stones before following the well trodden path down Brown Tongue to the lake and then on alongside the forboding body of water to our cars and a welcome rest.
   Al had to head home but I fancied a wee bit more navigation practice so headed over to the excellent Grasmere YHA for a well earned kip. I left the hostel the next morning and made my way up towards the lumpy, bumpy land between Brigstone and Blindtarn Mosses! It's a great area for navigation and I wrestled with my 1:50,000, which I still find a tougher scale to work with, but eventually had some success finding my way around the area and enjoyed the views from Lang How down towards Langdale. The path that skirts the summit took me round to Silver How and after a final view down towards Grasmere and Rydal it was back to the hostel and home after a cracking couple of days of Lakeland exploration.

Lingmoor Fell, Tilberthwaite and Wetherlam

26/27.03.14
Walking with; Graham

As I continue to work towards my ML I find myself spending a lot of time on lumpy, bumpy fells where micro-navigation can be practiced. Whilst they may not always have the height of some of the more well known Lakeland peaks they often afford great views of their loftier neighbours as well as providing a challengin training ground for me to practice my skills.
Lingmoor Fell is an excellent example of such a hill and sits prettily between Great and Little Langdale. I arrived just before 12 and set off from Elterwater which I think maybe my favourite village in the whole of the lakes, it certainly has one of the best pubs in The Britannia Inn! I followed the rough track that skirts Sawrey's Wood and then climbed gradually up on to Lingmoor admiring the views of Little Langdale Tarn and the snow capped peaks beyond. Little Langdale has a timeless feel, I imagine the basics of it have changed little over the centuries and it has a pleasingly timeless feel. Lingmoor is dotted with the remains of quarries and I picked my way through them to the summit at Brown How. The views over Lingmoor Tarn to the snow capped Langdale Pikes were truly spectacular. I spent an enjoyable afternoon wandering from tarn to abandoned hut, taking in contour features and random rocks and eventually worked my round to the crags above Fell Foot Farm where I practiced my rope work for half an hour or so making the most of the late afternoon sunshine. I dropped on to the path that contours round the bottom of the fell and made my way slowly back to Elterwater.
  Having pitched my tent on the flat, accommodating front lawn of Coniston Holly How YHA,I grabbed a bit of tea and headed off to Tilberthwaite where I was to meet Graham (http://www.beardedmountainman.com/) for another night nav. Navigating in the dark brings a fresh set of challenges, bearings and distance become of great importance and trusting them over instinct can be a struggle but invariably pays dividends. We headed up through the quarry workings and spent three hours navving around the Great Intake area, being hit by the odd snow flurry and admiring the distant lights of Ambleside and the coast. I got back to my tent just after 11pm and crawled into my sleeping bag falling asleep to the gentle patter of rain.
  It had cleared by the morning and I headed back to Tilberthwaite to have a go at Wetherlam. My last time on this hill had been fairly unpleasant http://www.comewalkwithmeuk.co.uk/2013/05/four-seasons-in-one-trip.html and I was hoping for better on this occasion. I climbed away from Tilberthwaite following the steep sided gill and made my way round Birk Fell before hitting the foot of Wetherlam Edge. There was a lot of snow and ice on the ascent and it was slow, careful work but the summit was well worth it. I've never had much of a view from the Coniston Fells before but this time it was breathtaking, snow, rock and sunshine, a perfect combination. I followed the edge South to Hole Rake and from there it was a gentle stroll back down to Tilberthwaite passing some old quarries en route. So,another night in the tent, more time in the hills, more navigation practice, the odd error but plenty of good stuff too! What will next week bring?

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Outdoor First Aid course

As part of my progress towards the Mountain Leader (Summer) qualification I am required to undertake a 16 hour First Aid course with a bias specifically towards the types of injuries and illnesses that may be encountered when exploring the mountains and moorlands of Britain.
I (along with 11 other friendly folk) did mine with Peak Mountaineering at The Hollowford Centre in Castleton over the Saturday and Sunday of last weekend. The course was very thorough, highly professional and used a good mixture of theory and practice. We covered a wide range of subjects including CPR, dealing with fractures and wounds, hypothermia, hyperthermia, stings and bites, protecting the casualty from the elements, improvised slings and splints and what a First Aid kit could/should contain. In order to cement our learning, we spent the last afternoon dealing with a variety of scenarios which required us to put into practice the skills we had been learning over the previous sessions.
First Aid is one of those rare skills where once you have learned it, you never ant to have to use it....none-the-less after this weekend of instruction I feel much better prepared should the occasion arise at some stage in the future!

Scrambling and climbing around Crib Goch

18/19.3.14
Walking with; Nathan

Crib Goch is one of those evocative peaks that either have walkers/climbers grinning inanely and nodding wildly or shaking their heads and pursing their lips. It is an iconic route and with the feel of enough real danger to ensure that completing it produces the kind of buzz more normally associated with more extreme pastimes! The fact that the ridge line leads onto Wales's highest peak is an additional incentive for testing your head for heights and giving it a go. Snowdon can be climbed on a train, up the gentle "motorway" of the Llanberis pass, by the Pyg, by the Pyg and then Crin Goch or you can do what Nathan persuaded me to do and scramble your way from the bottom of the Pen-Y-Pass road onto Crib Goch and then battle your way through the cloud and wind to emerge wind reddened and grinning at the highest point in Wales!
   I am still relatively new to scrambling and found our route up towards our goal the perfect blend of challenge and fun. At one stage we ascended a slippery gully only to find our escape route blocked by a chock stone, after a little exploration a hole was discovered between the stone and valley wall and I managed to squeeze through feeling grateful I'd restricted myself to only one bacon sandwich for breakfast. By the time we'd reached the ridge itself the clouds were low and the wind high, but we picked our way along the craggy route, climbing up, dropping down, ducking out of the wind and glancing at the sheer drop offs with a mixture of awe and trepidation! There were still plenty of slabby, wind blasted snow fields on the slopes on both sides and we were aware that a slip would be unlikely to end well! We could hear voices drifting up from the Pyg track and saw one other group of three on the ridge in the distance but for the majority of our route we had what "Trail" magazine recently called "the most climbed mountain in the world" (Snowdon) to ourselves. We eventually, and somewhat regretfully, reached the trig on Carnedd Ugain and after dropping off the very windy summit we suddenly entered a traffic jam of varyingly equipped walkers moving towards the Snowdon summit. There was still snow on the railway line but that hadn't prevented the summit from being littered with beer cans, crisp packets and other detritus left by inconsiderate scum too idle to carry their own crap off the hill. We descended via The Pyg Track before dropping off back down the slope and eventually reaching our car in driving rain.
   Wednesday dawned and Nathan was keen to have a climb. I nervously assented. Whilst I have been climbing indoors for a year or so I'd never climbed outside before and had only my walking boots, but felt confident that I was with an experienced climber. We parked up in the same spot and made our way towards the crags of Dinas Mot. Nathan led the climb with me seconding and we made our way up four pitches and around sixty metres of ascent. I wasn't sure how much I would enjoy it but aside from the occasional burst of debilitating adrenalin I found my confidence growing and by the time I was hauling myself ungracefully onto the grassy plateau at the top of the climb I think it's fair to say I was hooked. The route we took wasn't a pure rock face climb, we included traverses and grassy gullies, but it was a great experience for me getting me used to climbing roped up, removing gear from crags and dealing with exposure on small ledges. I can't wait for the next time :-)

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