Back to the Back O' Skidda

 

Morning View From The Tabernacle

Some readers who are particularly attentive or otherwise psychic will suspect by now that in May I will be setting off on the TGO Challenge. (my 20th should I complete it.)  Those who don't know what this is are advised that a Google search will provide a huuuuuge amount of detail. 

Anyway, as it involves walking about 200 miles with a stupidly heavy weight on the back will appreciate that a) It's probably a good idea to train a bit and b) Its not very long to go.

Ringo mentioned that we'd not been backpacking for a bit and that wouldn't it be better if we had a little trip somewhere quite soon. For the training.

So we did.

First camp sheltered from a nithering breeze

Ringo the dingo - seems to be in a good mood

Snow Storm on High Pike doesn't distract Ringo from the serious business of marking his territory

We went around the back of Skiddaw - an relatively quiet area of the Lake District, where in midweek March little notice would be taken of some discreet camping and some indiscreet snoring. 

I'm not going to delve into any statistics about how far it was or how much uphill we did on the grounds that the extremely low numbers would be an embarrassment to an energetic full-o-beans pooch like Ringo, although, honesty wouldn't bother me at all. I expect we could have covered more distance given any kind of plan or being determined and not lazy.

But we set off hopefully and marched with chins held high in a British sort of way and gave up in the face of a mini blizzard and a rather lovely camping spot in what turned out to be a lovely suntrap once the evil spiky shower of tiny lumps of wind-driven hard snow had drifted off towards Denmark. We didn't feel guilty at all and soon snuggled into our warm bags with the radio, hot food, kibble and winalot (dog) and some rough whisky to while away the 12 or so hours of chilly darkness. and, since we're being lazy, also the following five hours of morning sunshine. It took that long for the ice on the tent to melt.

Lingy Hut in the distance

Ringo says he's never been to Carrock Fell - well, tough...

Sunshine draws us off the hill

Blizzards returned as we eventually climbed on to the tops, taking brief shelter in Lingy Hut. We were tempted to stay, but as we'd only been walking for about an hour, this was taking lassitude one step too far. We were putting far too much effort in being lazy - so we plodded on. Showers cam and showers went, each one stingingly painful (or painfully stinging). At some point in the afternoon, maybe 90 minutes before sunset, and in yet the fiercest squall of the day, and surrounded by bumpy tussocks, whilst sheltering in a peat hag, Ringo mentioned that the bit of grass we were on would just about take a small tent and that we were next to the beck for water AND that he hadn't eaten for over an hour and was pining for his winalot and a lovely Mini Jumbone.

So we put up the tent and snuggled in once more. the pitch was a little tilted, though and this lead top a certain amount of sliding towards the door and the tent taking on a jaunty angle.

Ringo is an excellent tent dog, despite his farm-dog border collie heritage. In fact he's really lazy once he gets into his woofbag. He refuses to join in with the celebration of a midnight visit from Mr Bladder, especially if the weather is on the grim side.  Once he's in, he waits for dawn.

We had our tea, finished the whisky and read the book until the headlight batteries failed.

And in the sunny morning, with ice on the tent we looked out to see the nearby hills beautiful and white.

So we buggerred off.

The pitch was a little tilted.

Walking With Nipples Part Deux

 

Ringo hears a crisp packet open in Lancaster

And so. at the end of February on a nice and sunny but blitheringly cold day, me and Ringo put part 2 of the plan to suck up some more contours with a little trundle from Murton. over Murton Fell to High Cup Nick and back to Murton via Murton Pike. Killhope Law had had 1400 feet of ascent and this walk enhanced the uphill stuff to 2250 feet of ascent - quite a bit more. Another walk,5 days later bagged Lonscale Fell and Latrigg and increased this a bit more to 2450 feet of ascent. Unfortunately, I have no pictures of this walk fue to leaving my camera by the honesty box in the car park at Threlkeld. It is testimony to the honesty, shortsightedness and unwillingness to approach the honesty box to put money in that the camera was still there when I go back, several hours later.  However, there are no pictures, which maybe isn't such a great loss as it was very foggy on the tops and so there was not much of a view.

Seems that the sign may have come unto contact with ammunition

Frozen tarn and frigid Mickle Fell in the distance

A cairn like a hat

Cairn with a seat for those who have consumed a chicken vindaloo

Impecunious readers who dislike spending money will note that the car park at Murton is free. 

So having not spent any of my frankly easily earned spondoolies, me and Ringo set off up the bridleway that leads to the White Mines and the line of MOD warning notices that mark the edge of the Warcop Training Area and also provide an excellent easily navigable way up on to Murton Fell. Murton Fell is a typical Pennine moor, given over, it would see, to the sport of potting red grouse with shotguns. Its likely that Ringo, being a dog, is not allowed up there. But we saw no signage apart from the prohibitions around entering the Army training area - which we didn't. We did see a fleet of diggers, digging at a distance. No idea what they were doing. So we plodded over the frozen moor to the edge overlooking High Cup Nick.

Ringo relaxes in a  lunchtime suntrap sink hole

Above High Cup Nick

Gwan - guess...

The old Pennine Way flood route footbridge (now a bit rotten)

Back to High Cup Nick

So we mooched down to High Cup Nick, where there were actual people (we'd not seen any so far, apart from the diggers, digging). After doing some mooching, we sauntered over to the little limestone gorge which has the old alternative Pennine Way route for when Maize Beck was in flood. It has a footbridge and so, nowadays and for a while now, so does the main Pennine Way route, so this way is redundant, but worth a visit. On a hot day it would provide a place to dip. But not today.....  (the very thought.....aaaargh...)

So, not wishing to go any further in the wrong direction, we returned to High Cup Nick, where, somehow, I found myself being interviewed by two lasses walking from Middleton in Teesdale to Greenhead over three days. That's quite a long way as it happens. We were just chatting when one of them produced a recording device and started asking questions such as why did I do this sort of thing and what's the highlights of the Pennine Way...

Murton Pike

Warcop Training Area from Murton Pike

Coss Fell From Murton |Pike

The top of ...er Murton.... Pike  (I went up Murton Pike y'know)

On the plod back towards Murton, I became aware that Ringo was getting slower and slower. He seemed to be limping a bit. This was a worry. He had just had some hefty vets bills, after scoffing three days supply of food for a camping trip, including 40 grammes of Green and Blacks 85% cocoa chocolate. And the discovery during the treatment for this of an £850 hernia - which had only recently had fixed. So I was a bit concerned and investigated..... finding that I had put his harness on wrong in the morning and he had effectively been walking all day with both front legs down one hole. Dhuhhh...   But he was much happier after I'd refitted the harness and we fair romped up Murton Pike, which has excellent views and a small system of permissive paths which I explored in celebration of not having to pay the vets any more money.

Then we went home and told our mum all about our adventure.