Four seasons in one trip

13-15.5.13
Walking with; Nobody

Off to the Lakes again for comprehensive proof that in spite of last week's Bank Holiday sunshine in Wales, Britain seems reluctant to shake off Winter just yet. I spent the morning in Ambleside touring the gear shops in search of a new jacket, I eventually settled on the Montane Superfly which will be getting it's first outing next week as I am somewhat superstitious about throwing a new garment directly into the fray. Lunch done, I decided to drive up to Kirkstone Pass and have a go at Red Screes which I'd seen from the other side on my Fairfield Horseshoe route http://www.comewalkwithmeuk.co.uk/2012/10/the-fairfield-horseshoe.html. The ascent from the Kirkstone Pass Inn took on some of the eponymous screes and there was a fair amount of judicious route picking and minor scrambling all of which made the sudden appearance of the summit very satisfying. Wainwright claims that the cairn atop Red Screes is the largest of the Eastern Fells and it provided a degree of shelter from the wind which had started whipping hailstones across the tops somewhat lessening my enjoyment of the spectacular views back towards Windermere, across to Fairfield and down to Brothers Water. I decided that discretion might well be the better part of valour at this stage and headed (with the wind battering at my back) down the broad ridge of Middle Dodd before slipsliding my way down to Kirkstone Beck and with the hail now turned to a wet sleet I was very happy to see the ancient inn ahead of me as I crested the final slope. The pub is reckoned to date back to the Fifteenth Century and is listed as the third highest inn in England, it's certainly an attractive building and the fire was burning as I supped a restorative pint, very welcome. I spent the night at the Ambleside Backpackers which I can heartily recommend http://www.englishlakesbackpackers.co.uk/ after a few pints at The Gilded Lily!
   I have a few dirty little secrets; I like JLS and Bombay Bad Boy Pot Noodles, but, perhaps the worst of them was, that for someone describing themselves as a passionate hillwalker I had never climbed Helvellyn....well, that has at least been rectified! I decided to take the easy way up and parked at the exorbitantly expensive Wythburn car park next to the beautiful little church that served the community of Wythburn before it was drowned under the waters of Thirlmere. Coleridge and Wordsworth both mention the building and I found it a lovely, poignant spot. I followed the path running parallel to Comb Gill and then skirting below the peak of Nethermost Pike which afforded excellent views of Thirlmere and the Western Fells and then as the path levelled out there was Striding Edge with a couple of brave souls picking their way along it. There was fresh snow on the top and a bitter wind and the cross shaped shelter was well populated, the sky was clear though and the views to Ullswater and beyond were worth every ounce of effort. I followed the edge of the busy summit and headed down past Lower Man and along the ridge to White Side (for lunch) and then onto Raise. It was at this stage the sun came out and ......stayed out. I took off my jacket, smiled for a little while and then meandered onto Stybarrow Dodd for a wee spot of rest looking out of miles and miles of beautifully scenic countryside that yesterday would have been completely invisible! Time was ticking on so I headed down the increasingly sheer and stunningly beautiful Stanah Gill until reaching the path that ran parallel to the lakeside road, flitting in and out of the pine forest (spotting my first Chiffchaff of the year) until I reached the welcome sanctuary of my car! I spent the night at the YHA in Hawkshead http://www.yha.org.uk/hostel/hawkshead catching up with my friend Rob, whom I'd worked with at Castleton last year. He introduced me to the joys of Loweswater Gold at The King's Arms in the picturesque village for which I am very thankful!
   Wednesday morning started grey and very quickly progressed to wet and by the time I was on my way up the Coniston Fells, Weatherlam my quarry for the day, wet and windy. The cloud got lower, the wind got higher and I got wetter.....and wetter....and (you guessed it) wetter......Summiting was satisfying, not pleasurable, so I abandoned plans to carry on to Swirl How, and with the wind doing it's very level best to lift me off my feet, I headed down Low Wether Crag, past Levers Water and back towards the Coppermines and a cup of something hot.
Three days, three different walks, and just about every kind of weather chucked at me......roll on next week!

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South Wales wanderings

7/8.5.13
Walking with; Ruthy

Some of my earliest walking memories are of family outings to the Brecon Beacons where my Grandparents lived (and Grandmother still does). The names are evocative to me; The Sugar Loaf, The Table Mountain, The Blorenge and in my mind they have grown into epic mountain days, and so it was, that with Ruth having to visit Abergavenny for work the Wednesday after a Bank Holiday we thought we could stay with Granny in Crickhowell and I could relive a few childhood memories.
Tuesday felt as if Summer had arrived. We rolled into Hay-on-Wye in glorious sunshine, there was blossom on the trees, primroses and daffodils were still in flower and the fields were full of young lambs. Hay is the self proclaimed book capital of the world and with 30+ shops covering every conceivable specialism, it was easy to wile away a couple of hours and head back to the car with a bootfull of new reads. We headed out of Hay and onto the Offa's Dyke Path (which I am still hoping to do this year, time permitting) and had soon left the town behind for a world of forget-me-nots, celandines, goosegrass and primroses. We crossed the Dulas Brook, back into England, and the tiny hamlet of Cusop which found notoriety as the home of Herbert Rowse Armstrong, the only English solicitor ever to be hanged for murder! More country lanes lined with Cow Parsley and early bluebells took us back into Hay still bathed in beautiful sunshine.
Wednesday morning and the sunshine of the previous day had disappeared. The cloud hung low and drizzle was in the air as I emerged replete from another Full  English at The Kings Arms in Abergavenny. Undaunted I made my way through the narrow lanes and past the Sugar Loaf vineyards to the car park at Mynydd Llanwenarth where the cloud was lifting to provide spectacular views. I headed off North West and dropped into a valley below the Western ridge where I heard, and then saw, my first Cuckoo of the year. The climb up the ridge was long and blowy but undemanding and the views of the Beacons and surrounding countryside were spectacular. I now have longer legs than I did on my first ascent so it wasn't quite such an arduous adventure, but the 360 degree views from the summit are well earned and well worth the effort. It was a gentle descent back to the car park drinking in the views and skirting the edge of St Mary's Vale and once I was back I looked back at the cone like summit through the same eyes I did 30 years before and felt as if I'd had a proper adventure once more!

Kinder in Spring

23.4.13
Walking with; Nobody

After the trials and tribulations of a windswept Lake District last week it felt good to be back on familiar ground and to, maybe, just maybe, see Spring finally beginning to stir. Kinder is my "go to" hill, close enough to have a long day out and sleep in my own bed, and yet, wild enough to feel like a proper adventure and different every time I visit.
I set off from Barber Booth, one of a string of hamlets that make up Edale, and followed the River Noe, enjoying the daffodils and budding trees, until I reached Upper Booth Farm. The path follows Crowden Brook through a wooded vale before bringing you out at the foot of Crowden Clough with Crowden Towers and the Kinder edge towering over head. It was a pleasant climb, the gradient rises (for the most part) gently and there was a cooling breeze, none-the-less by the time I'd scrambled up to the foot of the Towers I'd worked up a sweat and an appetite! As I sat and ate the first half of my lunch, I saw my first Swallow of the year, a harbinger of Spring if ever there was one. The good weather had bought out quite a few walkers so I decided to leave the edge and head into the peaty heartland of the massif intent on doing a little "nav work". It was hard work, in and out of groughs and bashing through the heather, but as well as reaching my eventual goal of Crowden Head, I put up a few Grouse, spied a solitary Curlew and managed to come to the aid of a compass-less father and son who'd strayed a little off route......all part of the service!
Another session of cross-Kinder yomping bought me out at Kinder Low and then onto Edale Rocks for the second half of my lunch and some truly superb views down the valley and across to the Great Ridge. My knees didn't fancy Jacob's Ladder so after a brief consultation with my map I continued on to Brown Knoll, detouring to examine the sparse remains of another WW2 plane crash that lay on the Eastern side of the hill. The tops of Brown Knoll reminded me of Black Hill, peat and vast expanses of pale grass waving in the breeze. I located the memorial cairn of John Charles Gilligan complete with the classic biblically inspired walker's epitaph, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills........." before contouring round Horsehill Tor and dropping back into the valley. The last quarter mile or so had plenty of Spring lambs and that, as well as the Swallow and budding Hawthorns made me optimistic that Spring may finally have made it as far as the Peak District, fingers crossed!

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A wet, wild and windy Lakeland trip

15/16/17.4.13
Walking with; Nobody

Illness had followed injury and I was itching to get out again and try the knee on something other than the grey, rain slick pavements of South Manchester. In my excitement I decided to dig out the tent and make it the first night under "canvas" of the year........hmmmmm, perhaps a more than cursory glance at the weather forecast might have been an idea! I reached Buttermere over the Honister Pass and after setting up camp decided a gentle perambulation round the lake followed by a couple of restorative pints in "The Fish" might be a decent way to ensure no knee niggles remained. The water was coursing down Sour Milk Gill, but the clouds remained high and I could see across to Grasmoor and, up the lake, Fleetwith Pike. The circuit is a gentle, undemanding stroll, popular with dog walkers and families, but it felt good to be out again and Spring, in the shape of lambs, catkins, budding Hawthorn and flocks of finches chattering away, was very much in evidence. "The Fish" was disappointingly unatmospheric for such an historic inn, once home to the "Maid of Buttermere", Mary Robinson, subject of a Melvyn Bragg novel and mentioned in Wordsworth's "Prelude". "The Bridge" sadly was little better so I retreated to my tent with my trangia and a bottle of Hesketh Newmarket beer.
3am, my Vango Banshee 200 finally gave in after five hours of manfully battling gusts of  upto 70mph and torrential rain, with a pop, the poles bent and I awoke to a faceful of wet tent........to the car for three hours of fitful sleep as the gales howled around me. The advantage of being fully clothed and awake at 6am is that you're pretty sure to be first out on the fells, so bleary eyed I headed towards the Scales Bridge and Crummock Water, keeping a half shut weather eye on the inky black clouds adorning the top of Fleetwith Pike. I passed Scale Force and rounded the end of Mellbreak into Mosedale and after reaching the famous Holly Tree (even marked and mentioned on the OS map), it was a steep slog straight up to follow the ridge to the accepted summit on the Southern end. The wind on the top was vicious and it was head down and across to the Northern end (putting up a Snipe on the way) for fine views across to Lorton Vale and where I was able to watch a Peregrine playing in the wind and spectacular sheets of spray coming off Crummock Water. The path down was a cross between a goat path and scree slope but I made it down to St Bartholomew's at Loweswater and enjoyed a bit of RNR in the crocus and daffodil studded graveyard, glad to be out of the wind and imagining how tough life must have been for the Yeomans buried in family plots dotted between the flowers. Standing on the shores of Crummock Water was like facing an Atlantic gale, the wind was whipping across the water and as well as the spray, waves were crashing onto the shore, I'm not sure I've ever seen bigger waves on a Lake District water. I ended my walk by following the path up Rannerdale below Whiteless Pike before dropping down into Buttermere.
A night in the YHA in Keswick was more restful than the previous one, even if my dorm mate bore a startling resemblance to Charles Manson, in not only appearance, but, more alarmingly, behaviour! The morning, however, dawned wet and windy and I decided my old nemesis Skiddaw might not be such a great idea under the circumstances. Instead I headed off to Grange and decided to take on High Spy. In spite of the sheets of rain and gale force gusts, the scramble/clamber up Nitting Haws was great fun, the slopes cloaked with Juniper, Silver Birch and Holly and by the time I reached the plateau at the top of the falls I was really enjoying myself. As I edged up towards the summit ridge the wind suddenly intensified and by the time I reached the summit cairn I could barely stand and my face was being battered by needle sharp arrows of rain being driven across the ridge. It was not a time to be hanging around and, head down, I scuttled off towards the shelter of the old quarry works at Rigghead as fast as I could. Arriving once more on the Allerdale Ramble I met my first other walkers of the day, hardy souls that they were, before route marching back to the car, dumping my wet clothes in the boot and heading off to Tebay services for sustenance as fast as my Ford Focus could carry me!

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Aira Force and Dockray

31.3.13
Walking with; Rich

After a couple of weeks of indolence as a result of a rugby obtained knee injury it felt good to be out and about even on the gentlest of ambles. I was in the Lakes on a stag do staying at the fantastically appointed Blencathra Centre, in the shadow of the eponymous hill and with magnificent vistas of snow capped peaks. The stag and less injured parties were off scrambling in ghylls and via ferrata-ing, so it was left to me and Rich (hobbled by a hip injury) to enjoy a perambulation of a less demanding sort.
  Wordsworth writes in his poem "The Somnambulist", "Wild stream of Aira, hold thy course" and the falls are mentioned in two further works of his. They are certainly a popular spot and easily accessible from the Ullswater road. The name is believed to come from the Nordic "eyrara" meaning "gravel-bank stream" with the word force (or sometimes foss) being a commonly used term for waterfall. The land is now owned by the National Trust but was developed as a pleasure garden by the Howard family in the eighteenth century who landscaped the area around their hunting lodge. The two bridges are dedicated to members of the Spring-Rice family and are popular photo spots.
Our car park provided good views of Ullswater and the snowy hills beyond and we descended the gentle path through the pine arboretum before crossing the stream and climbing slowly up the other side of the valley.  The view of the falls from below is spectacular and was enhanced by the icicles and frozen spray decorating the surrounding rocks. We continued, following the river, until we eventually reached the tiny hamlet of Dockray for a pint of "hair of the dog" in the very attractive "Royal Hotel". It was a simple matter of following the road back to the car then and whilst four ambled miles might not represent my most challenging walk, it felt could to be back out in the countryside once more, and even more pleasingly, the knee held up pretty well!

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