Solstice Morning

Me, Brian and Charlie got up outrageously early this morning and turned up on the Durham/Northumberland border just as the moon was going into it’s final stages of a total eclipse.


(Very poor picture of the lunar eclipse. Well, it was dark, see..?)
As we totterred off over the hard neve of Middlehope Moor, it finally blanked out, turned red and disappeared into some Cheviot haze.
We pressed on up the hill, reaching the summit cairn not too much later (its not very far)

Here, we lit some hexamine and produced a fairly frazzled breakfast of sausages, bacon, black pudding, tomato and rolls.
And then the sun rose in a pink and red light. We all agreed haw great it was to be here and not tucked up in a warm and cosy bed.

The snow began to steam gently and, despite the severely negative celsius readings, Charlie pointed out a heat haze.
Everything was now bathed in sunshine.

The snow conditions in the North Pennines, I have to report, are absolutely superb at the moment. There is hard neve to walk on. The bogs are frozen up. There is blue sky and sunshine. And the roads are open. This can’t be missed. I must have a walk tomorrow.

And, of course, the year has now turned. From now on, each day will have just that extra few minutes of daylight. There is hope. Spring is lurking somewhere far away but has it’s bags packed, the taxi is waiting, the cat is at the Aunty’s and the neighbours have a key, just in case.
Solstice sunrise and a lunar eclipse. That can’t happen very often. It would have been a shame to miss that one.

Bouncing around Burtree Fell

Burtree Fell has it’s Scandinavian name (Burtree Fell) and its Anglian name – Middlehope Moor. Really really attentive readers may remember that a couple of weeks ago me and superdawg failed to get up Middlehope Moor due to very deep and soft snow. So, today, we had another go.

We parked up at Cowshill and followed a slippery lane up onto the Fell. And there we found some iron-hard neve. [thrusts clenched fist into air in a victorious kind of manner] Walking on this stuff is incredibly easy, and so enjoyable it ought to be banned, or taxed at least. Every now and then, about once every half a click, it lets you in, so there’s always the potential for wrenching you knee. The trick is to keep away from snow which has anything sticking out of it – for instance, grass, rushes, sedges, you get the idea.

So we fair sailed up to the summit by keeping to the deepest and whitest, crispiest and hardest snow. And it was a nice, brightish morning too. Bruno celebrated by bouncing around and digging holes. He’s not really supposed to be up here unless he’s on the invisible footpath as there are ground nesting birds (not much nesting going on today) But its OK, he’s really a cat.

We got to the summit very quickly – its usually horrendously tussocky and boggy up here and progress is often at best at a couple of km per hour. The top is marked by a shy little cairn and there’s a trig point a bit South of East.

Further speedy progress was made South East then South using a 100 metre-wide strip of hard snow which had formed on the steeper part of Sedling Fell and we soon arrived at Sedling Vein, which is a continuation of the Slit Vein of ironstone, galena and quartzy stuff which runs along most of Weardale. Its well dug up – which means there are holes and humps to sit and have your lunch on out of the fierce windchill that had sprung up.

My particular lunch lump had a fine scattering of flourspar, some of which I took a pic of for your edification. This stuff is bright purple when its wet. One of the pieces seems to have a bit of lead in it. Can you guess which one, children? No, its not the purple one. they’re all purple yer daft little sod. This is why I never went in for childrens TV. C’mere yer little brat an’ I’ll smack yer legs…!!

Clouds were building up on surrounding tops and the forecast was for rain and snow, so we progressed off Eastwards along the “Rake” which holds the remains of a water leat which used to take water down to mines on the fellside below. It was under quite a bit of snow today, in fact, at the far eastern end, there were some fair sized drifts for the dog to play on. Anybody intent of practising digging a snowhole would find ideal conditions just here.

Once on the road, which had been ploughed and cleared, we trotted off down into Weardale and followed the riverside path upstream to Wearhead, where a sign in the shop window of the Weardale Stores announced hot drinks – so I had one. This shop had been derelict for a long time , so its nice to see it operating again. I hope they do well. The coffee was good too.

Onwards and upwards by more riverside paths brought us back to Cowshill where the car was still parked.

And just then it started raining.

Missed me!

Smug mode.

The snow conditions today are pretty much what I’ve been hoping for for weeks now – good, hard snow which provides fast and easy walking. Its fab. It’ll likely be around for a few weeks yet as the slow thaw is about to end for a few days.

We did 8 Miles and about 1200 feet of ascent.

I’m off to the quiz at the King’s in Crook now. (We’ve won two weeks running, can we make it a hat-trick?)

Murky Middlehope Moor Missed Massively

A good start

That’s it – I’m abandoning all walking activities for the rest of the year. Its much too snowy out there.

This morning, I set off twice for Cowshill for the bagging of Middlehope Moor. The first time I got as far as Crook roundabout, then came home due to slippery road conditions.

So I had a coffee and waited till it stopped snowing and then set off again – and this time I got as far as Cowshill, but the knipemobile refused to be coaxed through the deep snow into the car park – so I went down the road to St Johns Chapel and started from there.

All went well at first. It was all very pretty and wintery and then, after climbing the hill, we entered an ancient lane up onto the moor and started to hit trouble. Trouble in this case being very soft snow.

There may be trouble ahead…..

Trouble got worse a bit higher when the snow reached underwear depths – the structure being a thin crust, a foot of soft, wet snow and another foot or so of powder snow and, finally, a layer of ice.

Feet, that is to say, legs, plunged through the crust at every step and didn’t even go straight down – no, they went to the sides. This resulted in falling over every couple of steps. It was too deep even to lift the feet high enough to take the next step. At one point both me and superdawg resorted to a doggy paddle. We were quickly running out of steam.

Bruno tackles a five bar gate

Then, I walked on the top of the wall, which I noticed sticking out of the snow. This was OK till I fell off. Then Bruno got completely stuck in the snow and appeared to have given up. I hauled him out.

…running out of steam….

We made for a gate over there, which I knew would give access to the road to Rookhope. The next two hundred metres took half an hour.

We reached the road. It was there somewhere under some hard packed snow. This provided easier walking. We arrived at the place where we should turn off on a bridleway which would give us access to Middlehope Moor. It was under six feet of soft snow.

Easier going on the road to Rookhope

We gave up.

Another chap from the dale arrived with his dog and gave up too.

Superdawg detects somebody with a packet of crisps over in Norway.

We returned to the Weardale and I used the always pleasant riverside path to return to St Johns Chapel.

River Wear in Upper Weardale

It started snowing again. I read the Northern Echo till it stopped and then went home.

Snow shoes would be a really good idea.

5 Miles and 750 feet. Shudder been more. Felt like more anyway…

Sitting in a Currick

Me and The dawg had a wander up a very icy- and a little bit snowy Weardale today, starting at the auction mart car park at St Johns Chapel. We slithered our way up the hill to the North and along various bridleways to the very top of Middlehope Moor - at just a tad over 2000 feet.

There's a complete silence on these hills just now (in between visits from the RAF) - just one bird, I think it was a Plover going "peep" in the ever-so-slightly-bored-with-it-all way that Plovers go "peep".

Very rough going on the heathery tussocky bits and attempts to walk on hardened snow failed with knee-deep plunges at the rate of once every ten steps - but in such a random sort of way that it was just too much of a lottery. Deeper drifts on the very top of the moor worked out to be more reliable.

And then we found Puddingthorne Edge Currick. At first, I thought this was just a pile of stones, but on closer examination, I found it had a built-in stone seat and a shelter, facing down the length of Weardale and quite cosy in the sunshine. Bruno dozed off. I ate a mars bar and some flapjack and finished my green tea. Just a yard away, it was a nithering minus two with an epic wind chill, but here it was toasty. Worra grand place to sit away a long summer evening with a bottle of beer - or to watch the summer sunrise, maybe.

Eventually, we had to abandon the shelter and descend to the valley. A riverside path brought us back to the start (We actually out-aggressed a farm collie who was intending to have a chunk of Bruno. I'd watched "Dog Whisperer" the night before....

A cracking 12 sunny but perishing cold miles. Fab stuff too....

Pics include the Currick and it's view...