Blaze Fell and Eycott Hill(s)

Met Office forecasts have been unusually consistent this week in nominating Thursday as the day when it wouldn’t rain. And it didn’t. In fact, it was fairly warm, or at least, relatively warm, so me and superdawg shrugged off a spot of lassitude and navigated our way to the foot of Blaze Fell.

Blaze Fell is a HuMP (Hundred metre prominence), about ten miles North of Penrith and on the Lake District side of the River Eden. It has, to it’s credit, or , at least, somebody’s credit, a pair of permissive footpaths to the top. The local Nordview Stables are also encouraging walkers along the Northern slopes and, it would appear, that you can walk almost anywhere on the pastures on that side.

So we trundled off up the Eastern side through, what suddenly appeared to be a lambing field. This was evidenced by two very new lambs and their mother who was putting up a brave show in stamping and snorting at Bruno who was ignoring her. I wouldn’t normally take the dog through a lambing field with sheep in this advanced state of pregnancy, but it was too late and we plundered on as quietly as possible.

The top of Blaze Fell has a currently disused quarry of very attractive sparkly red sandstone and a trig point, plus cracking views of the Pennines and the Cumbrian fells.
We returned to lunch in the car by a roundabout route.

Next up was a pair of Eycott Hills – Little and , wel just Eycott Hill. These don’t appear as very promising walking country on the map, but the reality is different.
I parked fortunately beside an unmarked permissive path which leads through a sheep field to the open fell. A cracking walk along an occasionally rocky edge with superb views of Blencathra and Carrock Fell and more fells to the South. A couple of kilometres saw both Eycotts bagged.

And that was that.
I drove home at an appropriate speed (!)
We did about six miles altogether.
Can’t be arsed with maps…..

Windermere Contains Dangerous Levels of Cheese Claim Scientists

Tree Ruined by Over-Exposure to Blue Stilton

I don’t think this is particularly true, but several commentators have got quite animated about it recently. Thos who don’t think there’s any cheese in Windermere, particularly Dangerous Anthropologically Produced Crumbly Lancashire have their hands stamped on and labelled Lactose Intolerant Deniers (LIDS), despite all actual evidence to the contrary that anything crumbly or full of holes but tasting of cheese is to be found in the murky depths below all those sailing boats.

So, today, me and superdawg picked up the Bro in Kendal and went off to find out for ourselves.

Our first Port of Call was the imaginatively named “Unnamed Summit, School Knott 247metres”  This was well frozen today and has a small outcrop on the top. The view of Windermere was all right, I suppose.

We then trogged off to the venerated Grandsire. This is a nice little hill with a small outcrop on the top. You can see Windermere from there quite well.

Down the hill we went to a small and solidly frozen little tarn, which Bruno had a little skate on, and then the tough 30 metre climb up to yer Actual School Knott.  This has a small outcrop on the top and a bit of a view of Windermere.

You can probably detect a theme by now.

We wandered around a Windermere housing estate for a bit, ran panicking across the outrageously busy  and maniac-haunted A591, being passed by three girly runners with lovely bottoms, and up through the woods to Orrest Head, which has some small outcrops on the top and a view of Windermere, plus, as a bonus, some benches to sit on.

It was here that I scoffed my chicken salad sandwich.

We lurked through various back allies, footpaths and the rougher parts of Windermere town, where some of the housing is worth less than a million and a half quid, and then upwards and along a bit to a view point, which had some outcrops and a view of Windermere, finally emerging on the summit of Brant fell, with it’s outcrops and fine view of Windermere. We tried to climb an outcrop but fell off.

Cheese? We couldn’t detect any. This is not conclusive, obviously. Lack of cheese on just the one day doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t any.

I trust the scientists, me. I think they’re great.

Anyway, we did about 9 miles and 1500 feet of upwards movement. Bruno’s poo bag split whilst he was crossing a wall (I’d tied it to his lead as I don’t really like to put those things in my pockets or rucksack in case they..er…split….) Dhuhh.

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.

Red Pike with Rye and some Thirlmere Birketts

First of all, after much prevaricating and cancelling and moving of dates around , I eventually managed to meet up with Martin Rye in Buttermere and after a brief rest in The Bridge Hotel, we strode off up the outrageously steep path up Red Pike.

Martin was on a mission to do a spot of wild camping and wandering about around Buttermere and Grasmoor and,there's a link to his account of his adventures at the foot of this post.

We achieved the top of Red Pike without too much fuss and very little in the way of cardiac emergencies and, such was the measure of our success that we went on to bag Starling Dodd, not too far away to the West.

It was here that I had to take my leave of Martin, so he went that way (towards Great Bourne) and I went this (towards Scale Force.  It was nice to walk with Martin for a while - its always good to meet other bloggers and backpeackers and TGO-er -types. put a face to a name and all that kinda stuff....  I expect he had a fab time wandering the Western Fells.

About a mile from Buttermere I got a message from Martin with a picture of his tent, saying that he was camping quite near the top of Great Bourne.

By the time I got back to my car it was fairly dark.

The next destination was Derwentwater YHA for the Annual general meeting of the Over the Hill Club, which although not entirely populated by TGO Challengers, was a child of the Challenge. The AGM was on Sunday morning, so we passed the time in some light boozing and watching the footy on TV…

On the Saturday an elite group went off to do the Coledale Round, yet an even more elite group assaulted Scafell Pike, some more relaxed individuals went for Barf, a few recalcitrants went shopping and I went off to bag three Birketts at the foot of Thirlmere.

The first was Raven crag, which I realised I’d already been up, so that would only be two new ticks. Next up was a Castle Crag which inevitably has an iron age fortification on the top, and the last was The Benn.

Each of these is a rocky tor sticking out of the spruce plantations and each has a fine view. I did quite a lot of sitting around drinking coffee. The Benn is slightly spooky for some reason. The whole walk was only three miles but with 1500 feet of ascent, so that gives quite a good idea of the slanted nature of this walk. I repaired to Keswick for a meat and tattie pie and a small custard.

After the AGM, I bagged Foulds Brow on the way home. This is a small and heathery flat moor overlooking Wigton. Its a Wainwright Outlier. Its times like this one when bagging things becomes an obvious obsessive bit of behaviour. It might have quite a good view in less hazy conditions.

It was snowing a  bit on the way home on the A66, and the general snow level on the North Pennines and the Lakes continues to creep gradually down the fellsides. Its a little bit earlier than last year. It might be a good idea to buy snow shoes.
Martin Rye's account of his stravaigs in and around Buttermere are at  http://summitandvalley.blogspot.com/2010/11/in-search-of-bloggers.html

Blencathra

As you can see, Bruno was delighted to find a patch of old snow on Blencathra. He ate quite a  bit of it and then started on the ice on a puddle.
Old snow in November eh? Must be that terrible global warming….

I met the bro at Threlkeld in spring sunshine  frosty November sunshine and we wandered off along the intake path to the foot of Doddick Fell – a way up Blencathra from the South which doesn’t involve any derring-do or the potential for falling off anything. I hadn’t been this way before, so that was good and, it has to be said, it’s quite a nice way to get up the hill. Its also quite a good way for people who don’t like to be scared by their hill. Nobody dies on Doddick Fell, unless they weren’t very well when they set off. Or they’re standing in the way of a large inheritance.

Or they get struck by lightening, briefly, very briefly regretting that blasphemous outburst at the road works on the A66….
Somewhere after passing Sharp Edge, we started to come across patches of old snow. And then, a bit higher, there was a general but thin cover of icy new snow. There were also some decent-sized patches of hard neve. There’s not enough yet, though to warrant getting the crampons out. The ground isn’t frozen either, so you’d just end up sticking to the mud.

The top of the hill was shrouded in mist when we arrived, but cleared almost immediately whereupon it began to snow. This was not a good place to sit and eat a wensleydale cheese and tomato butty – nor a banana…. so we descended the North side a bit.

We lunched at the top of Foule Crag in a not very cosy spot and in a snow shower.

A short time later, we discovered that the cairn on the top of Mungrisdale Common is nowhere near the top of Mungrisdale Common, not that anybody is all that bothered.
Alf Wainwright’s inclusion of this bit of watery moorland is a puzzle. It has, though, resulted in a soggy path of a type more often found in my home Pennines to a small cairn in the wrong place.


We proceeded to the Cloven Stone – a distinctive rock used as a boundary marker – and then, with a bit of contouring, to a sheepfold. You can only fold a sheep eight times, apparently.

The track to Skiddaw house brought us back to Threlkeld.
Its cold up there folks. Take a hat and gloves. We did 8 miles and 2500 feet of mainly quite steep upness. Nice to see a bit of snow again. It’s almost time for that Slade record.
and here it is, merry christmas everybody’s having fun. look to the future now it’s only just begun –un –un…

More Birkett Bagging Beyond Buttermere

Actually, it was quite near Ennerdale.
But anyway – I’d set off to bag Swainson Knott and it’s two little satellite hills Ponsonby Fell and Stone Pike, when, as I was driving towards the starting point, I noticed Flat fell.
I didn’t have the map for Flat Fell, but it was an easy bag from the road – half an hour did it.  It was about 2km and 140 metres of up – mainly the crossing of a deep peri-glacial channel. I noticed, though, that due to the sogginess of the ground today, both of my feet were soaked after this short jaunt.

I then bagged Cold Fell – another small Wainwright outlier during which I got a really good view of Sellafield Nuclear Power Station and Armageddon Repository, and that my tootsies were now even wetter.
Bruno suggested lunch in the car. So that’s what we did. I had Lancashire Cheese and Tomato and Bruno had Dog Dribble. Is that cruel?  I just dont care mwwwwwuhahahah…

After this we paddled off to outflank Ponsonby Fell. This involved a long outward leg on some bridleways, one of which crossed Worm Gill. Worm Gill, it turned out was in a bit of a bad mood and was having a rage. The crossing point was flowing fast at just over knee-deep. This would have been disastrous for keeping everything else other than the wet socks dry. Upstream, though, the beck is braided into four smaller streams and only one of these was almost knee deep. The others were shallow. Nevertheless, the feet could not, now get any wetter.

At Scalperskew Farm, they were bringing in the gimmers and one of the dogs, I noticed only had three legs. Not only that but the scruffy little pooch wasn’t even a “proper” sheep dog – it was some kind of poodle/terrier/collie/alsation/greyhound/sheep cross. QAnd it was barking and biting the tyres of the shepherd’s ATV.
When the shepherd drove across a cattle grid, the poor tripod couldn’t get across and had aa bark at the gate at the side. I let him through and he dashed off after the ATV with remarkable efficiency.

Ponsonby Fell was quickly bagged, followed by a barbed-wire defended Stone Pike, which has a sheepfold on top for the sheltering behind whilst drinking coffee and scoffing ginger cake. And then it was Swainson Knott, with it’s cairn made of what appears to be cow bones.
The sun came out for the return up by the River Calder (?Calderdale!) and, it has to be said, that this little dale is remarkably beautiful and a bit wild.

When i got back to the car, two constables from BNF’s Sellafield Police Force were posted next to my car. They check out all badly parked cars, apparently. They were very friendly, though and allowed me to attack their boots with my groin before driving off laughing. (Actually, that last bit didn’t happen…)

Today was 11 miles and 2200 feet of upness. I’ve only put up a map of the Swainson Knott bit of the route. Anybody intent on following this route should note that the descent from Swainson Knott to Calderdale was a trespass and was defended by particularly6 spiky barbed wire fences. Nothing stops The Pie and his Superdawg, though.
Three Birketts and Three Wainwright Outliers ticked. (some overlap exists)