Upper Weardale, Very Upper Weardale

The snow is still lying deep and crisp and so on all around Crook and the A66 is still closed and, whilst Co Durham seems to have managed to open minor roads, neighbouring County Councils have not, so, until the snow consolidates a bit, which needs a thaw, which in turn might well remove it altogether, walking about in it is a bit of a bugger at the moment.

And so, having watched superdawg chase his tail all around the living room I considered that a proper walk was in order, and what better than to go and gawp at the big snowdrifts up the top of Weardale where the main road to Alston is supposed to be closed by enormous waves of white stuff?
A frozen brake fluid sensor in the knipemobile said that I had no brake fluid, but, as the brakes seemed to be working, I pressed on up the Dale and arrived without much excitement at Cowshill.

There was a bit of traffic coming over Killhope, so I was too late for the closed road, but nevertheless we traipsed off up the road towards Cumbria. The road had been ploughed and salted and the drifts were disappointingly small.

But there was virtually, no traffic, so it was quite enjoyable. I considered going off-piste a bit and wandering along the path by the river. Bruno plunged into the deep snow by the roadside and came out limping within a couple of minutes. A bit more work on the salted road sorted out the limping, but he has a short memory and lives for the moment. So the moment his paws stopped hurting, he was back into the soft powder, and limping again. At one point he was on three legs. Going into the deep powder could well disable him altogether, and quite quickly too. So we didn’t. There’s a certain type and temperature of snow which gets into the “palm” of the paws and turns into a ball of ice, or in this case, just burns his paws.

We returned the way we came, after covering just a couple of miles. We might try something a bit more local till some consolidation takes place, or , at least, a change in conditions.
Quite pretty, though….. and for anybody interested, the road is perfectly good just now.

Crook Around the Compass – East

“I’ve had all I can stands, I can’t stands na more.” Popeye.
So, today me and superdawg braved the blustering blizzards to go and have a look at the second of the Crook Around the Compass walks – this time it was East. This starts in the same place as “North” and suffers the initial indignity of having the route description and the map not matching at all.

But the rest of the walk, which is a complex route of many turns and various nooks, not to say, crannies, that the route description could best be described in exactly the same way as John Donohue, TGO vetter extraordinaire once described my attempts at Gaelic place names. Brave, but futile.

The route was made al the more interesting by the fierce and protracted blizzards of snow and hail which batterred me and superdawg for most of the morning. Then there was the matter of the outrageously deep snow. Most of the time this was merely knee deep, for those of us blessed with a fine pair of primate legs. Shorter, more canine legs left delicate bits of the anatomy deep under cold snow. Bruno didn’t seem to mind. I would have complained a bit more.

In fact, Bruno thought the whole adventure a bit of a jape and bounced around like a puppy. The idiot. 

The route itself is fairly complex (I may have mentioned this above) but is interesting and has a short but quite fine high-level traipse across pastures with an ariel view of Crook.
It also has, believe it or not, a bit of avalanche debris in an old quarry or delve. I expect this is temporary and fairly unusual.
For those concerned with such things, there is NO barbed wire (there is an electrified fence at one point) and , as the centre of Crook is visited, it does have a selection of pubs. More pubs than you can shake a pair of doggy antlers at, in fact.

Which brings me to Bruno’s Christmas outfit. Supplied by Rachel whilst I was out shopping for wor tea and trying to push a car out of a snowdrift.
Crook East is 3 miles and 500 feet of ascent. I did four miles, so, that’s one louder.
That deep snow doesn’t half get your calf muscles. The case for snow shoes strengthens.

Cabin Fever –restored

Rather than causing panic, annoyance, frustration or a nasty nervous rash to blogreaders, I’ve restored this deleted copy of “cabin fever” I’ve changed it a bit cos the original had a video of superdawg barking at the snow, but as it wouldn’t load (the reason for deletion), I got irritated and binned it in a fit of pique.

So here it is….  I hope it was worth it (there’s two ways of saying that phrase y’know…)

I was supposed to have a walk today, but there’s been a bit of a blizzard going on and off all day and the snow is deep and crisp and not very even, so instead, I put up some fairy lights on the holly tree and some around the window and did a bit of creative writing – and learned the chords for “Different for Girls” (Joe Jackson – not specially difficult to play badly) So I might go tomorrow.

Its even too tricky on the roads to go and get a Christmas tree – the knipemobile is stuck in the garage as it happens and the police have announced that shopping for Christmas trees is not Essential Travel. Its true, it were on the news.

Superdawg’s new antlers will similarly have to wait for a pause in the storm.

But here’s a short film starring Superdawg.  He’s having a bark, obviously.

Bugger it – you’ll just have to make do with a picture.

Here’s Bruno balancing on one of the knipetowers’ snowdrifts. The video is marginally more interesting.

Hallelujah Flash Mob

As its almost Christmas, or Yule, or whatever, I thought I’d share this brill bit of video wot John Jocys sent to me this morning.
I’m off shopping for Bruno’s temporary antlers after this….

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.