OK, so a bit of a departure from the ‘serious walking’ (ha!) nature of this blog, but the intention was there originally, honest!Ben Nevis in fact, it wasn’t to be in the end, but onto that later….
This was for N’s 40th celebration, which started with a family meal in the curry house and a leisurely, yet hungover, not-so-early start for the drive up to Jockland.
Fairly uneventful journey, with a stop at Loch Lomond, the same spot as last time and another stop just above Rannoch Moor, again the same spot as last time (creatures of habit, us), until finally we arrived at our lodgings for the next two nights, the Inchree Chalets.
A flat Loch Lomond
N gaining new material for his duck porn stash
Glen Coe
Our Chalet (Left, RHS)
View from the chalet (and N)
Pretty Cool huh?Bargain too at 60 quid a night for the whole chalet.So shortly after checking out the pub (Cairngorm Brewery beer – yum). Spag Bol for tea with the obligatory cheesy garlic bread.It was around about this time that the decision was made, Ben Nevis was a no-go, here’s the forecast from the day…
click to enlarge
Gusts up to 90mph!Imagine trying to stand on a car roof whilst bombing up the fast lane – it was never going to be safe. Not only that it was blowing from the South West, straight up the loch to ‘The Ben’, so full exposure to the winds too.N already had a back up plan in mind, the Lost Valley, Glencoe.
So up and at em the next day to face the elements….
Luckily, someone had already painted the path in bright blue paint
A gorge
Jimmy Savilles House
N on a rock
The Lost Valley
Lost Valley Higher Up
So that was it really, got as high as the last pic and went back down again. It was only later, whilst snealking a peak at a guidebook in Glencoe Tourist Information (recommended) that I read we were probably less than an hour from bagging two Munros (Bidean Nam Bian and Stob Coire Sgreamhach). Oh well, lesson learnt I suppose (read the frickin guide books).
In any case, we decided to make the journey down as eventful as possible, a quick word with Him Upstairs to turn up the weather dial (wind and rain), a river crossing and a jog down. We were trying to beat the target time N had entered into his wrist mounted Star Trek Communicator. It was either run back to the car within the 3 hour time 'limit'or I fear we'd have been having tea with Scotty, Jim and Spock.
Anyway, we made it (despite my slightly embarassing slip) and back to the chalet for a late lunch. How very civilised.
The question of course now was "what to do"? We had a whole afternoon to kill (before the pub opened anyway). With the weather being bonkers, we thought it might be fun to catch the Corran Ferry (free to foot passengers) across to the spit of land we could see from the chalet window (Sallachan Point) and see if we could avoid being blown out to sea.
The ferry port
Disappointingly, due to weather, the ferry wasn’t running.So the decision was made to go have a look at FortWilliam.After waiting an extraordinarily long time for a bus and paying and extraordinarily high cost for a short 8 mile journey (about £8 each if memory serves) we arrived at the set for Prisoner Cell Block H……sorry, Fort William.
FortWilliam, a study in grey block work.Perhaps its where naughty architects go to die?The hell of the architectural world.Anyway, it aint pretty.
So a quick whiz up the high street, which obviously involved a pub… http://www.grogandgruel.co.uk/and then back to find the bus.Ah bus, what bloody bus!They only run when there's and “X” in the month it seems, so rather than sit in a piss stinking bus stop, it was back into town for more beer….http://visit-fortwilliam.co.uk/listings_101_Cobbs-Bar-and-Bistro.html. Weirdly this one is part of a big outdoor shop, Nevis Sport.Good though.
Anyway, after an ice age or two the bus decided it would turn up, so back to the chalet.That evening was a lovely meal in the onsite restaurant.Twas good.
Next day was to be a day of contrasts.Starting with a pleasant walk around the local nature trail to a waterfall and then onto Glasgow for a night on the tiles….
Inchree waterfall
Glasgow, was cool, perhaps subjected N to a few more “Real Ale” pubs than was necessary, but nonetheless was cool.Of note was the fast food Mexican and the hotel pool was lovely.
In all, a very pleasant holiday and a fantastic way to mark N’s progression into middle age.
Footnote:Since visiting, Jimmy Saville is now dead.Now then, now then, now then.RIP
Yet another date ear marked in the diary for a days adventures where the weather gods weren’t going to play ball….The original plan was for the Crib Lem spur in the Carnedds (Snowdonia, Wales) but due to forecasted gusts of 80mph, we erred on the side of safety and decided to have a crack at the Gritstone Trail, this time from the North….
So another early start to catch the train out of Congleton, a ½ hour stop over in Stockport (Maccie D’s) and out to Disley meant we were on the trail for about .Perhaps the most pleasant and civilised start to any walk so far!
Platform 0 at Stockport (a mathmeticians wet dream?)
Start (or end?) of Gritstone Trail
The day started well, a steady pleasant climb out of Disley and into LymePark, the location of the ‘pond scene’ in Pride and Prejudice..We didn’t actually see the pond, besides it was too cold for any swimming, plus I'd make a fuggin ugly Mr D’Arcy.But we did see lots of other stuff….
Deers with antlers and everything!
More Deerses
Folly thingy at Lyme Park
Big house
Its at this point the photos dry up.Forgot to put the memory card in the camera, d’oh, so you’ll just have to take my word for it.
Once through LymePark we followed a ridge to eventually drop into Bollington and a climb up to White Nancy for elevenses.It was at this point, that thoughts were beginning of extending the original plan of a 15 mile jaunt to Teggs Nose (nr Macclesfield) and to keep going a further 15 to Congleton.This was a mere walk in the park for the now super-fit, N and I wasn’t doing too bad.How quickly things change!
From White Nancy it’s a ridge along towards Rainow to begin what we thought, would be a quick climb up to Teggs Nose.How wrong could we be!A small navigational error, a slight miscalculation in stats in terms of distance to go and the first thoughts of ‘oh god, I'm knackered’, conspired against me.Its amazing that once those negative thoughts start to creep in, how it can affect you physically.I can almost see what they mean when they say marathon runners, ‘hit the wall’.I’ve ‘bonked’ and stuff on the bike before (completely ran out of energy) but this was different, this wasn’t [quite] a complete lack of energy, this was pain.Back, knees, hips and bollocks!
So down a couple of cogs and into plod mode for what would normally be, a pleasant gentle grassy climb to Teggs Nose.Considering we thought we were nearly there, it went on for ever, and ever, and ever.Ow Ow Ow.At Teggs Nose, a welcome bench and a drink and butty put just about enough fuel back in to start the road plod down to Macc (no bus dammit), then once on the Buxton main road a bus into town.
The pint in Macc was OK, but was feeling slightly nauseous by now, so didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. Back home though, a quick kip, and a shower, I was right as rain!Went for a hair cut and everything!Oh well.
So lessons learnt?Clearly losing fitness, especially next to N who’s on an upward curve in contrast to my decline.Need to drink more (*take Camelbak in future), need to start walks at a steadier pace, need to keep ‘fuelling’ despite being a fat bar steward.But most of all, need to do exercise more often!
Stats:
Miles: 13 [66% of Gritstone Trail now covered] Real Ale Pubs: 1 (Waters Green Tavern – Macc)
Another one of those days with no real plan, fancied going to Hathersage, I've not been before and just cos its ‘out there’ innit maaaan.
Hathersage, a small town in theDark Peak, is only an hour away from home and pretty it was too.Although they wanted 5 quid to park the car all day!Robbing sods.So I moved it and parked on the road opposite the fire station for free, ha!
Please excuse the quality of the photos on this entry, they are all via the shitty iphone camera as my real cameras in Greece.
So anyway, the plan, such as it was, would be to zip up to the official ‘peak’ of Stanage Edge, High Neb, then see how we felt after that..
The 'Edge' (no not the pretentious twat from U2)
Heathers in bloom. ahhhh pretty
Once on top, the arc of Stanage Edge sweeps before you like a ginormous crescent moon, with dots of people all along its length.Be just stupid to go straight back down, so along the edge it was and would see how I felt in ½ an hour or so.A bit further up were several groups of climbers, most friendly and chatty with that lovely Sheffield accent (which isn’t very far away).
Millstone
High Neb (Kinder in background)
Despite a hangover (what’s new alky), ribs still sore and lack of ‘hill time’ I was doing surprisingly well.Enjoying the effort of the uphill bits and practically jogging the flat bits.I really did dawdle when starting off, so perhaps the proper warm up did the trick?
View down to Hathersage
Stanage Edge looking back
Once at the far end of the edge, marked by another cairn, it was time to pull the map out and think about some sort of ‘exit strategy’ for getting back to the town.A route via Higger Tor (another hill and pile of rocks), seemed the natural path.So up and over, avoiding loads of walking groups and picnickers, across a road, through a farm (why do farmers not bother with footpath notices through their properties? Do they actually want people to walk into their front rooms?!) and it was back to town.
A quick wander around the town, there’s about 3 outdoors shops (only bothered with1) and back up to the car.
By the car, I was parked near to Hathersage's Outdoor Swimming Pool, I did toy with going in (I had my kit with me), but after a quick circuit decided that I'd look too much like a paedophile if I went in on my own.Oh well, another time with the kids maybe.
A free weekend!!Absolutely no plans whatsoever, and a fantastic weather forecast, what is one to do?Derr – no brainer of course.Book the YHA and off to the Lakes we go…
So Saturday morning, the ‘morning after the night before’ awaking to a left over kebab and a mouth that’s just been sandblasted is never pleasant.However, several coffees, and the bag was packed, we were good to go.
Kebab remains - yum
By the way, when we say “we”, I actually just mean “me”.This was another one of those ‘finding yourself’ weekends whilst trying to stave off insanity being in my own company.
Arriving at Patterdale YHA at lunchtime, the first cheese and onion slice of the weekend was scoffed (well it saved carrying it) and Place Fell was the days target.The rough route in mind, was something like this, but as ever with the Saturday mini walk, the only target in mind was a minor Wainwright, and we would make it up after that.
Patterdale YHA
Nonetheless, despite having no food to carry, the rucksack still felt reasonably heavy, with the temperature in the low 20’s, additional fluids were definitely required.
So off and up the hill, which is conveniently right behind the youth hostel, a steady climb with a lovely view down to Ullswater.The temperature was that warm that you could hear cicadas chirruping in the undergrowth, it was like being in Greece or something.Could this really still be the clag ridden wet Lake District that we have grown to know and love?Whacky.
Looking back towards Ullswater
Up and up the path went, plenty of people about and by sticking to that painfully slow, yet steady pace, I was overtaking people in their droves.I had a wry smile, as it seems like only yesterday I too was one of those people I was overtaking, with that stop / start mentality.It felt good. (for now!).
Motorway of a path to the top
Once on top of Place Fell, things started to go a bit ‘free form’, no real plan from now on, and most people seemed to be heading off in a Northerly direction along the main path.So, West for me then!Besides, by going West (to coin a phrase) it meant I could bag another Wainwright, The Knight.
Place Fell Summit
It was whilst en-route to The Knight, I realised, “wait a minute, its only , I cant check into YHA until , and I don’t want to make the same mistake of getting accidentally pissed in the pubs all afternoon (again)”.A rare luxury indeed, time, not to mention the fantastic views and the utter peace.No one about, so the top came off and time for a ‘little lie down’.Lovely.
The Knight
Views down to Glenridding
My bog finding record remains unblemished.
Half an hour or so later, I continued over the bumps and lumps over-looking Ullswater to the final lump of the day, Birk Fell.It was here, I vaguely remember that the route (as previously mentioned), took a “path” directly off the fell down towards the lake.I also forgot that the same route had mentioned, and I quote… “The descent I used to get to the lakeside path was 'interesting' and not recommended”Hmm, hindsight’s a wonderful thing.
Steep slope
Eff me, this was a mistake, an incredibly steep slope, which starts as bracken hiding mossy rocks, then goes through gorse, followed by an overgrown wooded area with ravines before finally hitting the main path that runs alongside Ullswater.
First bracken
Then Gorse
Wooded Ravine (just about the see the path below now, thank f*ck)
ow ow ow
It took ages to get down, and not without one or two “moments”.I could have kissed the tarmac (well gravel), by the time I was down.
The long and winding path
It was also a surprisingly long trudge along the lakeside path back to the Hostel.By now it was , so I checked in and dumped the bags and went off in search of the highlights of Patterdale (all 2 pubs).It was still hot, so a long cool pint in the beer garden was bob on.
Pub No 1
Beer garden and Place Fell
It was here that I had a good study of the map, to try and work out what that “path” was all about…
Yes dear readers, you’ve got it, I followed a ‘Civil Parish Boundary’ off the side of a cliff, not a ‘path’ at all!No wonder Mr Striding Edge didn’t recommend it!Still, life’s a lesson innit?
Back at the hostel it was chaos,Young kids running riot everywhere. Good chaos.It was great!YHA’s can be like morgues, full of strange looking blokes on their own (rapists) with strange social habits (says me), so it was a refreshing change.
The only downside to all this busy-ness, was I couldn’t get into the self catering kitchen until late, so was starving and half pissed by the time I could eat.That just about did me in, so was flat out asleep for .
My bed for the night
So Sunday morning soon came round and after a raw crumpet (toaster was toasted), I was out on the fells for .The peace of the place at this time on a sunny day was magnificent.Wildlife was everywhere and a badger just stopped and stared at me from just 6 feet away.The lake was flat calm.Surreal.
So today’s plan was something like this, but again nothing definite as there was so many options once St Sunday Crag was done.St Sunday Crag was the main objective, having liked the look of it on a previous walk.
A new dawn, a new start
Pub No 2 from previous night (had wifi)
First fell of the day was Birks, and after a little bit of backtracking to get to the cairn (the cairn isn’t on the true summit) it was over the undulating ridge for the steep climb up to St Sunday Crag….
All is still
Birks (Place Fell in background)
It was here that the previous days feeling of fitness evaporated, despite the ‘plod’, I still had to repeatedly stop and start, and although I was beating myself up at the time for lack of fitness, I think looking back, the previous days adventures had taken more out of me than I thought.To cap all that, two fellas came striding past me, chatting away, as if the hill didn’t even exist.They told me they were doing the entire parish boundary of Patterdale, which was basically a circumnavigation of every hill I could see on the horizon.Impressive.As they strode off, I could overhear them talking about the “regiment”, so felt a bit better for that, but nonetheless it left me a little deflated.They were out of sight within minutes.
St Sunday Crag
So after an arduous climb up to the top of St Sunday Crag, I forced myself to take on some energy drink and flapjack and decide what to do next.The next hill in succession, was Cofa Pike….
Cofa Pike with Fairfield behind
…Shall I climb all the way up there then?Nah.It was getting seriously warm again now, and Grisedale Tarn below looked seriously inviting, not only that the timings looked about right for it to coincide with lunchtime.So it was down through Deepdale Hause (great path) to the tarn.
Looking back to St Sunday Crag
Grisedale Tarn and lunch!
It was here that I had one of those “why do I enjoy this?” moments, yes the effort can be satisfying, but at the end of the day, to be in surroundings like this on a glorious sunny day, why kill yourself?I was here to enjoy it, not to just plod up and down for the sake of it.So sod it, decision made, I’m going nowhere.Top off (again), boots off, and a mega long lunch by the lake (cheese and onion slice number 2), I was there a good hour before even thinking about heading back.
The route back is a straightforward path down Grisedale valley itself, plenty of tourists and DofE’rs, (“is it far to the tarn mate”) all the way down.Took a while though, and we didn’t hit the car until 1 ½ hours later.So out about 5 ½ hours in total.
Outward Bound hut
The path to home
The CAMRA 2010 pub of choice this time was The Watermill, has its own brewery in the pub.V good.
Summits:5 (4 Wainwrights)
Pubs: 3 (1 CAMRA 2010)
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Decided.Everyone needs a target in life, or else it becomes like a pencil with no lead..... pointless.I’m 41 now (nearly), have done 44 Wainwright's over the last 2 or 3 years.214 in total.So, let me announce it officially to the world (well, all 2 of you), I’m going to get them ALL done by the time I’m 50.
So that’s, 9 years, 170 to do, 1.6 Wainwright per month.I’ve done 4 just this weekend, it cant be that hard a target surely?......
