Some More Ash Gill Duckings

As it was a hot day today, I scuttled off to Nenthead and me and Brian had another fun-packed descent of Ash Gill, starting just below the big waterfall, in shorts and tee-shorts and by a series of short scrambles, swims, slides, swims, jumps, swims and walks, we arrived at the junction with the River Tyne. The water levels in Ash Gill were extra high and peaty-brown as a result of a thunderstorm yesterday afternoon. But the water was tolerably warm if a bit fierce on some of the slides.
At the Tyne, we turned left – that’s upstream. Not a vast amount of water in the river here, and it soon became obvious that something or someone had died in it in a kind of, stinky carcase-rotting timescale. So we abandoned the dark but warm and silky water for a short bit of lead mine level. Unfortunately, lack of headlights limited exploration to about a hundred metres or so. Inside there was plenty of lovely mud, and some knee-deep and very icy water. I noticed the when I came out into the wall of heat at the entrance, that I steamed for a while.
A 200 foot climb back up the lush July hillside brought us back to the car to get changed and to repair to the Miners Arms in Nenthead for a brief episode of light boozing.
This is great fun by the way and, providing you can swim twenty feet or so, is not really very risky at all. It would be interesting in winter, and it would be interesting to treat the place like an open cave and, maybe do a few little abseils into one or two of the deep pools. A flash flood, however, would be a right bugger, so a trip in conditions like yesterday afternoon’s thunderstorm, which knocked out some local phones by the way, would perhaps be pushing it a bit.
Not many pics as the cameras were inside a waterproof box most of the time.
Upper South Tynedale is looking gaspingly beautiful just now by the way – lush and green and flowery.

Plodging Ashgill and the South Tyne Gorge

Taking advantage of the sudden warm and sunny weather, I visited Brian at Nenthead and we had a little sunny day adventure.
Soaping the insides of our trousers with washing-up liquid, we donned wetsuits, abandoned a car containing dry undies at Garrigill and drove to the top of Ashgill Force. There, we forced ourselves through the window (mentioned in a post some time ago) and had a quick look at the waterfall and the deep pool at the bottom and then commenced a descent of the very lovely limestone gorge below Ashgill Force. This contains half-a-dozen or so deep plunge pools, bathed in sunlight and scented with May blossom and each one a small test of nerve. We paddled and swam and sat and ate and paddled and swam till we joined the River South Tyne in a deep flat-bottomed gorge paved with Carboniferous. Limestone slabs. Not much water here, though. – We were slightly taken aback by a sudden discovery, stuck on the bank, of a balloon in the shape of a human which rocked and swayed as if in pain or distress. Slightly disturbing…..
So we walked till we found deeper water and, slipping and sliding we made slow progress down stream. As the water reached the thighs, we found it quicker and safer to float and push ourselves along the bottom by hand. After an hour or so of this, we finally reached the Crossgill Bridge. After the bridge, the stream is only three or four feet wide, but very dark and deep with a gentle current and we turned off our minds, relaxed and floated downstream. By this method we came across the Dipper. Then we crept up on the Dipper’s chick, standing on a ledge, dipping (as dippers do) we got within a foot or two before it flitted of downstream, only for us to repeat the approach. Two heads floating slowly and silently with the current. Not people, just heads!
Finally we were at the Garrigill ford and exited the stream, in the traditional manner by squeezing through the water pipe under the ford.
Removing wet suits is an undignified business, but we heaved them off each other, got the dry stuff on and , after collecting the car from Ash Gill, repaired to the Miners Arms at Nenthead for a light libation or two.
When the soapy legs get wet, the boots start to foam by the way. It’s a great conversation starter when meeting new people.
2.2 kilometres downstream in three hours! No ascent to worry about.
The water was warm(ish)
Not too many pics as the camera was safe inside a waterproof box most of the time.
Good fun, though – shouldn’t be allowed, really.

Plodging, by the way, just means "paddling" in water or mud, or similar wet stuff.

North Pennines Bagathon

After the Mickle Fell stravaig, we diverted our attentions to Garrigill, principally for the bagging of Round Hill – Mike’s final English Hewitt. And so, in temperatures just marginally above freezing and in nithering rain, we mooched off up (or is it down…?) the South Tyne Trail towards France.

A mile or so up/down the path from Garrigill is the little gorge of Ash Gill, at the top of which there is the main road from Alston to Teesdale. Emanating, or , rather, gushing from underneath this bridge is an impressive waterfall, behind which you can venture for a look at a waterfall from behind. This is an ideal spot for hiding from injuns as they gallop by. When the beck is in spate it is a truly awesome experience, with the water thundering past at arms stretch.

And so, after being slightly awed (as the beck wasn’t quite in spate), we continued up/down South Tynedale, ultimately to it’s source where there is a vaguely erotic statue with a hole in it through which to view the very spring out if which springs the reason for the most famous of Lindisfarne’s hit records. It was quite foggy up there on Monday as well.

Then, after much huffing and puffing from me, we finally mounted the soggy and only slightly tilted slopes of Round Hill with it’s little cairn. A few celebratory pictures were taken and then we evacuated the place for warmer places such as Garrigill. It went dark again.

I put my tent up behind the village hall (not a bad spot as it happens…) and after a brief but nutritious scoff, we repaired to the pub for a sweet sherry and a water biscuit and to listen to the landlord’s vynil collection. Quite an enjoyable night, all in all.

Tuesday follows (but then you know that, innit?)