Helvellyn Weekend with the Fight Club Hikers

Friday afternoon saw me slide over the Pennines to Glenridding to join the Fight Club Hikers Second Anniversary do in a frozen camping barn a mile out of Glenridding.

Those attending (apart from me) were, in no special order, Wibble, Titaniumdude, Walkingirl, Darksky, UKMase (alias Masey), Peter Crawford and, a bit later, Der Allte. Plus Mille, Pepper and Woodstock.
It was, of course, perishing cold both inside the barn and outside and it seemed to have snowed quite a bit during Friday night, Saturday morning.

We arranged a walk suitable for dogs, hangovers and icy conditions thus: Sticks Pass, Raise, Helvellyn, Nethermost Pike, Dollywagon Pike, Grisedale, Travellers’ Rest. 12 Miles and 3500 feet of upness. Masey along with various random colleagues also bagged Stybarrow Dodd and, whilst most bypassed Dollywaggon Pike, he and Gill did that one too.

It was slippery and snowy and windy and even colder than the Barn. Millie got herself an icy beard, whilst Woodstock was frustrated in any attempt to curl up somewhere warm for a nap. Pepper, meanwhile, is a collie and is designed for this kind of stuff.

The tops were covered in a wispy kind of clag, but , suddenly, Helvellyn appeared out of the clouds and the day became sunny. Helvellyn was busy.
At some point, we lost Darksky. He became detached from the back of the group and failed to turn up after a shivery half an hour’s wait on Helvellyn Lower Man, and a shorter wait on the summit. The dogs in particular began to suffer badly from the cold and a search of the ridge leading up to Helvellyn produced no evidence of Mr Darksky, we pressed on regardless. This was his eighth trip up Helvellyn, so he knew the place fairly well. Turns out he descended by Swirral Edge.

We slithered and slipped down to Grisedale Tarn and then down the length of Grisedale, where it went dark. Most people spent sometime crashing to the ground doing comedy pratfalls on hidden ice. Minor injuries were received.

Eventually, we made it to the bar of the Travellers Rest, where we rested, warm and toasty and increasingly intoxicated, till around midnight (I think) Der Allte turned up and bought cheesy chips. Darksky was reported to be tucked up in his sleeping bag back at the refrigerator camping barn.
All was well with the world, having enjoyed a very fine hillwalking day.

Ultimately, we walked the mile back up the the barn and spent a second shivery night.
The car thermometer was reading minus 5.5 C in the morning. There’s been a bit more snow. The drive down the valley was interesting, without the benefit of brakes (I had brakes, but using them was less than useful – there was no stopping.)

Cracking weekend, though. Thanks for the invite, and to Masey for taking the matter in hand and booking the barn, and to Gill for the chips. I’m still drinkihttp://ukmase.wordpress.com/2010/12/03/fc-hikers-2nd-birthday/ng the Spanish wine.
I’ll put a link to Masey’s blog as soon as he produces an account.

Edit: Here it is http://ukmase.wordpress.com/2010/12/03/fc-hikers-2nd-birthday/

This is complete with a potted history of the Fight Club Hikers.

Across Cumbria day 4 Three tarns to Dunmail raise

Thursday 13 August.

A sparkling morning with a hint of a cloud inversion saw me standing on top of Bowfell with the rare privilege of having the hill all to myself.
Shortly after I reached the top, though, a Dad on half a day’s leave was spending his GBP’s by having a round of the Crinkles and Bowfell. I left him alone to be the only person on Bowfell
I descended to Angle tarn by Ore Gap and traversed the boggy backside of Rossett Pike to Stake Pass where I had a nice chat with a bloke from Guisborough and his two well trained and friendly collies. Another chap turned up and asked for directions to the Langdale Pikes. We pointed out the top of Pike o’ Stickle and sent him on his way. I followed on and the chap followed me from in front, waiting for me to catch up a bit every now and then.
The last I saw of him, he was spreadeagled on an unnecessarily difficult scramble up the Pike. I stashed my pack in a peat hag and scramble up and down again, getting a text from Martin Banfield on the top.
We met a few minutes later and went over Thunacar Knott and Sergeant man before lunching by a beck above Easedale. Martin fed me somewhat on butties and lasagne.
I have no pictures of this encounter as all of my supply of recharged batteries were useless and they all failed to spark up any response from the camera after that little red battery started flashing.
I bought more batterries, plus whisky and beer in Grasmere.
The forecast both from Martin and the LDNP weatherline and from my cloud-predicting text pal Genjii reported 90% chance of showers the next day, so, after Martin had departed back to the temperate climes of Timperley, I implemented a Foul Weather Alternative plan, which involved visiting the Travellers Rest for another think and some minor boozing, and wandered up the road till I spotted a camping spot just short of the dual carriageway by Raise Beck. A good spot with good water and slightly surprised sheep who were under the impression that this kind of thing wasn’t allowed. It was also a really good camping spot if traffic noise soothes you to sleep. (If this is the case, don’t go in for a career as a coach driver, by the way. Just a tip, there.)
This was just a bit below the big cairn on Dunmail Raise which marks the site of the defeat of King Dunmail (brown mail) at the hands of the naughty Anglians in 5 echty – blob. Just goes to prove that if you let your armour go rusty, you just can’t expect any respect from the Anglians.
The position was exquisitely strategic for an assault on the Hellvellyn ridge if the weather proved fair, or a walk down by Thirlmere if it didn’t.
I was in smug mode, unlike King Dunmail, who wasn’t.


Today, I covered 13 miles and 2500 feet of climbing.

A good day with good company, and, in retrospect, probably the best day of the lot.

Just like the path to Threlkeld, it was mostly downhill from here……