A Daunder by Any Other Name (Pre TGO challenge Walkies)

 

Camp at Blakethwaite Bottom

It was Alan Sloman (RIP) and Phil Lambert who invented the Pre-TGO challenge Daunder. Usually taking place in April and taking a very relaxed approach to TGO challenge preparation. The pace was deliberately gentle, many brews and snoozes were had and various bars were visited and camping was wild(ish). Not too many miles were walked over the two or three days of the Daunder. I'm slightly nervous about calling this event a Daunder at all. Not many previous daunderers were involved, or even informed and the pace may have been slightly too quick. So, maybe we won't actually use the "D" word at all, in deference to Messrs Sloman and Lambert but there were some similarities. Are you all sitting comfortably? Yes? Then I'll begin.

On the way to the first night's camp

It wasn't actually as tilted as this - the camera was not level. Foggy morning

Heaving ourselves up the first contours.

I'm not sure how the idea came about except to say that it was probably around Christmas during a discussion between me and John Jocys. I provided a route, although it wasn't necessarily set in stone (you have to be flexible, innit?). It was to be in the Howgills. The Howgills is a special sort of place for backpacking. It has cracking views, mainly shortish grass, cracking views and excellent water, And mostly it's fairly quiet - in fact we didn't meet any other walkers until the second day and even then , there were only a few, mainly around The Calf. We each invited a few friends, some of which decided that it was too far away, too many over-friendly contours, or, in two cases, The NHS refused annual leave. So there was just JJ, Gerry (aka Morpeth cos he lives in Morpeth) , Judith and Ringo the dog. We began in Tebay in the traditional manner, at the Cross Keys Inn, which provided beer and lunch and is doggy friendly. Then in mzzly conditions we walked the easiest route possible the five or so miles to Blakethwaite Bottom, where the usual stream had dried up. We camped on a flattish bit and lugged some water from a different beck. The night passed quietly, only disturbed by Ringo's running about and barking dream and my stomach rumbling. In my quest to avoid Ringo raiding my food supply I had hidden it in the his crate, the only place he never goes. For extra security I had placed a guitar at the entrance. One of Ringo's unreasonable fears us guitars. Unfortunately, I forgot to put the food bag in my pack and had to resort to my only source of calories, two packs of oatcakes and a small piece of dark chocolate. I did give my rum supply quite a bit of attention. Breakfast was some more oatcakes. I never want to see an oatcake ever again.

Route Conference

On The Calf (Howgills Highest point)

Ringo can't be tempted out of bed with just a bonio

Long Rigg Beck camp

And so, in the morning at 09:32 sharp we heaved ourselves up the hill and on to the wide and grassy ridge to Fell Head, which me and Ringo and Gerry strolled off to bag, followed by Bush Howe and The Calf and down to Sedbergh, where we discovered that The Black Bull us doggy friendly, as is the Red Lion, just around the corner. Ringo likes Sedbergh.  The Meat Hook butchers shop sold me a pie and some bacon and the Grocers sold me breadbuns, chicken broth and a satsuma. So my food problem was solved. The Black Bull also sold me a beef sandwich and some beer, so all was well with the world. A team "conference" determined that we were running a bit late and that a wander up the Roman Road that is Howgill Lane woyld be easier and quicker than the path along the intake wall. So that's what we did, rescuing a ewe with it's head stuck in a fence, chatting with a farmer and, a bit later his daughter and grand-daughter who were out checking the sheep. The daughter recommended a camping spot, which turned out to be the one on the original plan anyway. So we camped there. A lovely, quiet night followed, undisturbed by any digestive rumblings.

Heading back to the road

A brew stop at Carlingill Beck

So we returned to the Roman Road and Tebay, brewing along the way and having another friendly chat with another farmer checking her sheep, whilst her little dog, Meg played with a deflated football. Unfortunately, it is with deep regret that I have to report that the Cross Keys in Tebay didn't open till seven o'clock and we decided not to wait.....

The Pennine Inn in Kirkby Stephen was open, though, so....

We might do a similar thing next year, whether or not people are taking part in the TGO challenge - neither Judith nor Gerry were going to do this year. But it's a good thing to do and a small group is more fun. And the pubs were good, and the farmers and their dogs were friendly. 

And the lesson for me was to check the flipping pack has everything in it. One day, I'll forget the tent.....