Flan Fuelled Cross Fell from Kirkland

I don’t know why I suddenly decided to climb Cross Fell. It must have been lurking in the undermind.

And so, armed with a cheese and onion flan (only Southerners and the genetically effeminate eat quiche), a fine banana a mince pie (we still  have lots) and some fair trade chocolate, the knipemobile screeched to a halt in a shower of flying pebbles in the turning circle of the unoccupied holiday cottage village of Kirkland, on the windy side of Cross Fell.

There’s a nice bridleway which goes to Garrigill from here and it is this that we slipped over and nearly cracked both wrists on, and, after being suitably punished by an attack from superdawg using his ice-crunching powers, we followed gingerly through a fierce but brief snowstorm towards Gregs Hut. Gregs Hut is named after a famous North-East pie retailer. The extra “G” was lost during the doomsday survey.

Historical fact #1

There’s no need to go as far as Gregs Hut, though, so we didn’t. Instead, just after tiptoeing over some well frozen but still somehow wobbly bogs, we turned off over the moor to the scree and snow slope that guards the equally frigid summit area.

 

Any thoughts of having a bit of a tarry in the summit shelter soon faded as the nithering wind discovered the chinks in the seventeen layers of thermal liberty bodices and merino stuff as I sat and scoffed the quiche..er.. flan.  Bruno helped, in view of the urgency of avoiding a slow but probably quite enjoyable death from hypothermia and we soon sloped off and slithered off down the Pennine Way to find bridleway number two, which took us pleasantly back down the hill.

We had a brief stop in some brief sunshine in a little shelter on the edge of a view of Eden, but we were soon off again.

Just before we got back to Kirkland, I did notice some ancient ploughing terraces, and, found later, that these were, in fact the “Hanging Walls of Mark Anthony” Bugger all to do with Mark, actually, and much more likely to be lychets – terraces on a hillside created by repeated ploughing.  These things are all over the Pennines, as it happens – some really good ones at Eggleston in Teesdale. They’re quite good for botany because the plants on the little scarps are different from those on the flats. Have a look next time you find rows of long, green platforms on a hillside.

Anyway, we did just under 9 miles and 2300 feet of up. 

Be a man, scoff some flan. Just a tip, there.

Last Pennine Snow on Cross Fell

I was supposed to do this walk a few days ago, but the weather was duff and me lickle legs wuz tired….
So I did it today instead.

Me and superdawg started by the sad spectacle of a boarded up George and Dragon in Garrigill . There’s a save the George and Dragon meeting in Alston on 14 May when the villagers will decide if they can form a co-operative to buy and run the place. I hope they can – there’s been shenanigans, apparently.

Anyway, for speed, we romped off up the tarmac towards the South Tyne, eventually pitching up by Troutbeck (which had a trout in it) for lunch.
We followed the bridleway up to meet the Pennine Way and followed this northwards over various Dun fells till we got to Cross Fell.


There, we met a lad with a lump of iron. This particular lump of iron (ore, actually…) had some speckles in it which I thought were pyrites and a strange dark blue mineral in regular squares. I had no idea what it was, but , as there’s a good phone signal on the top of Cross Fell, I phoned Brian.

Gilda said that the last she’d heard of Brian, he had stripped his son, covered him in marmite and had dangled him over a fifty foot drop over a bridge near Bangor. Didn’t we have a lovely time the day we went to Bangor? Eh?
Apparently, its his son’s stag do today. Otherwise it would have to be the social workers again.

So, we have no idea what it was. We parted our separate ways and Bruno found a large patch of snow to have a play on. Then another…. then another….
We visited Greg’s Hut. It was warm inside (it was perishing cold outside by the way) – the fire in the stove was still smouldering and the stove was hot.

The Pennine Way back to Garrigill is a long and fairly dull plod which we did at speed as it was downhill.
Today, we did 20 miles with 2500 feet of uphillness. This is a long way. But  some of my TGO Challenge walks are only a bit shorter, so there’s a reason for the madness.
I won;t do any more walking before the TGO Challenge, which starts on Friday.
The boots done well, by the way – very comfy, good grip and the water beads off them nicely. Despite all this, we are both, frankly, quite knackered.

There’s a short vodeo dough below in the snow. (beneath the map)

Have a look anyway. I’m for a nap….