Couldn’t be arsed

Worra horrid, dreich sort of morning it was this morning.

“C’mon Bruno”, says me “get yer walking stuff on, we’re off up Collier Law”

“Bugger Off” growls the dog with a just hint of threat.

And he was right. I poked me head out of the curtains and it was chucking it down, but this time it was white stuff.

I determined to have an excuse. I decided that my Scarpa heavy winter boots had shredded my ankle so much (sniff!) that I couldn’t possibly walk further than the kettle in the kitchen.

Later, by way of entertainment, it being far too chilly to tear myself away from warm radiators and a never-ending supply of eyebrow-lifting strong coffee, I decided to get creative and, as its Christmas (you must have noticed this, surely…), I put my sparkly Christmas hat on and made some mince pies, including rolling out the pastry and everything. Its remarkable, isn’t it how clean this activity gets your fingernails.

Then, acting on a suggestion by one Graeme aka Angry Climber from somewhere up in Scotland, I made some “special” flapjack – this time flavoured with tia maria (no, honestly…) and containing much dried fruit and ginger and covered in milk chocolate, and in the series of cakes so far including Arsenal FC and Famous jockey Willie Carson, and this time dedicated to that veteran pioneer of TV cookery Fanny Craddock.

Here’s the picture (writing a bit shaky due to nerves…)

Thanks to Graeme for the suggestion.

Any other suggestions for cake dedications will be received with thanks, in fact, in the words of the famous Brian the Irrelevant, who had serious problems with punctuation - “I can’t thank you. Enough!”

Lakes tomorrow if I can get the car out. In any event, I'll likely be doing the Fanny cake some serious damage.

Bloggers Lead Their Doggies Up High Street

I suppose its quite possible that there may be three different blog versions of this walk – and even, maybe, a podcast… but as we’ve now shaken off the bogey of duplicated blogs using exactly the same pictures and exactly the same words, but with different spelling mistakes (hands up who noticed!) –there will be some significant benefit to blogreaders to read all three. Just in case there’s any suggestion of blogreadingweariness, I’m doing mine whilst the other two are relaxing in front of Animals do the Strangest Things or When Cheap Package Holidays Go Wrong……

Rough Crag/Long Stile Ridge – Martin and Shirley Heads Down Bruno adds artificial assistance

So, today I met Shirley (Peewiglet) Worral with her terrier pup Piglet and Martin (Phreerunner) Banfield at Mardale Head, which is the commonest starting point (I should think) for the bagging of High Street and the doing of the Mardale Round which is a short ridge walk suitable for a mid-December day where there’s not much daylight - or a leisurely summer’s day with lots of sitting around listening to meadow pipits. Superdawg was there too and was, no doubt, relieved to receive the immediate submission of Piglet. If it had gone the other way, he’d have been fine with that too, no doubt (he’s not very assertive)

Bruno waits in ambush

And so, in spirits as high as Outdoor Bloggers could ever ascend to, we rattled off over the stony path to the foot of the Rough Crag ridge – a narrowish and quite long ridge leading up onto High Street.

This is a very nice route by the way and never actually achieves scrambling level, although it tries a bit sometimes.

(And for those who don’t know, High Street is a 2700 foot high hill, so named because it has a Roman road running over it from Ambleside to Penrith (ish). It also has a 19th century racecourse, of which nothing much remains. Its a long, wide and fairly flat ridge with deep and rocky corries, one or two of which have eagles nesting.

High Street Summit Poses

But I digress, which is something quite difficult to do on the Rough Crag ridge without some excitement involving steep drops, crags and howls of terror.

We got to the top of High Street with only one coffee stop and one ghost-story telling session perched somewhere on a rocky bit and we lunched briefly behind the wall on the top and then posed in various poses on and around the trig point.

The rain and mist slowly lifted to reveal a view of other places lit by a golden winter glow.

Ill Bell Ridge Appears from the Mist

We were soon at Nan Bield Pass where we met a couple with three boisterous young dogs, and not too much later, we crossed a tiny patch of hard snow to reach the summit of Harter Fell for another photo-call.

Small Water and Haweswater from Nan Bield

Harter Fell Posing – Where’s Piglet?

We followed the ancient packhorse track down Gatescarth Pass zig-zagging steeply back to the start as the short day ended.

No winter conditions today, although the ground on High Street was a bit frozen and ice underwater in ponds was quite thick. There were a few small white patches, most of which Bruno dug up and attacked enthusiastically. It was, in fact, 2 degrees, and with a 20 mph or so wind, which gave quite a refreshing edge….

Haweswater from Harter Fell

We repaired to the Haweswater Hotel for hot coffee and other refreshments. Piglet found a discrete place by the radiator. Bruno had his thermal blankets in the back of the car.

6 and a bit miles with 2400 feet of climbing.

At various points in this walk, Shirley got out her little digital recorder thingy and asked us various podcast-interest questions, such as “Have you always been unable to talk sense?” and “That buffalo doesn’t half pong, innit?” I seem to be completely unable to say anything vaguely interesting or sensible when faced with a recording thingy, but maybe Podcast Bob will be able to edit it to form something vaguely interesting to Podcast fans – possibly a Mama’s and Papa’s track or something…… Martin seemed to do better…

Anyway, it was nice to see Shirl and her liddle doggy on the walk – and worra nice dog, too.Bruno mentioned it a few times on the drive home. Maybe she’ll venture out with us again….?

Check out the companion bloggers blogs at http://peewiglet.wordpress.com/ and http://phreerunner.blogspot.com/ - I expect they'll be along shortly...

Stop Press: Just copied this group photo from Martin Banfield’s picasa album.

Peewiglet with Piglet, Pieman with Superdawg (hiding) and Phreerunner – summit cairn on Harter Fell

Navigation Techniques for Beginners #1

Here’s just a little video wot I made demonstrating the “map-to-ground-random-vectoring” method of navigation.

Continue at random till you spot someone you recognise and then follow them. Legs should be kept short unless you've got very long arms and are called Cheetah.

This is guaranteed to get you Nowhere Fast. (The capitals aren't important, I'm just showing off)

This is a proper technique, honestly.

Tip: You're supposed to have a map, although the raandomness of the vectoring will be enhanced if it doesn't show the area of your possible location, and , to be frank, its not essential.

Next week, we'll be covering a settee with a cosy tartan throw, or we could do handrailing or something. Please write in with suggestions.

Dodd Fell 13 December 2009

Quite a nice day today, which makes for a really nice change – I didn’t even have to wear my gloves – although, as the pictures will testify, it was a bit dark from early afternoon.

We’d been to the bank to get money for the car park, and initially investigated the Ropemaker’s car park in Hawes, where a £3.20 charge is made for knipemobiles.

We had no change, so we visited the spar shop and bought a box of festive Mr Kipling cakes – and then repaired to the Gayle Road car park, where there was no charge for parking today. (dhuuhhhhh) – but the cakes were nice anyway.

Gayle

We walked up by the Hawes creamery, home of Wensleydale Cheese, Grommit, and then by the Pennine Way to Gayle, where we got lost for a while, but found our way after asking directions from an old, probably retired farm collie, who had one blue eye and one brown eye and a severe limp – but he was friendly enough to Superdawg, who wanted to play.

Cam Road – looking North

We used the Cam Road to get up onto the Pennine Way, and then straight up to Dodd Fell’s trig. On the way we were briefly investigated by five foxhounds who were busy ignoring a lad on an ATV who was vainly calling them to follow him. They decided that superdawg was superdawg and not a fox and continued sniffing and , generally investigating things and doing some howling and hound-type noises. Bruno wasn't very impressed.

Some fox hounds

After visiting the top, we made for Kidhow Gate where we met the farmer from Duerley Bottom farm having a little contretemps with a two-way radio which was refusing to work. He confirmed that he’d turned it off and turned it on again and that he’d sworn at it. He’d now resorted to hitting it, which seemed reasonable. He was looking for the lad with the hounds, apparently. I suggested he might have to shout instead. Later, he offered me a lift down the road which I refused because I was enjoying myself, innit. In a rainier weather, I might have accepted…..

Oracle and Grommit of the Baskervilles (Its going dark)

In view of the lack of daylight (it was already starting to fade by half two) – I plumped for a quick trek along the Roman road that heads for Bainbridge and then the Beggerman’s road down to Gayle, but went off on footpaths in the Dale bottom to have a look at Aygill Force – a very attractive waterfall in a deep, square slot, very much like the Tyne Gorge at Garrigill, in fact – maybe a bit deeper.

Aygill Force

I got muddy, then rejoined the Pennine Way back to the start.

The Penny Garth Cafe sold me a very nice fresh coffee for thirty bob (£1:50), whilst Bruno was abandoned to his thermal blanket (I really spoilt that dog) in the back of the car.

Good weather today, though – very light wind, dry, with views as far as the Scafells and freezing from about 560 metres and above – but not really feeling cold and the boggy bits were only just crunchy.

12 Miles and 1700 feet.

A different route that I did earlier in the year includes Drumaldrace, but I wanted to do that one separately from Semer Water.

How tickled hi ham, anyway, missus. Have you ever been tickled in the Dales missus?

Ken Dodd died. Did he? No, Doddy. That’s enough of that, now….

Hijack!

Blog written by guest bloggers Alan (Mines a large one) Sloman and Phil (That’s not what I’ve heard) Lambert who have hacked into this blog to report THE TRUTH.

You can tell its not the usual blogger as the spalling and gremmar is a bit iffy, and as for sintax, well, why not….?

Way back in those heady days just before this ultra-modern Mersey Beat nonsense came in, it was always said that you never saw Cliff Richard and Helen Shapiro together in the same room.

And so it is with Mike (The Postcard) Banfield and Martin (The Pie) Knipe. You never see them in the same room. And we’re here to investigate the reasons.

And, what a giveaway – they blog at the same time and about the same walks with the same pictures. The only difference is, of course, that the actual words are sometimes completely different.

If you don’t believe us, check out the other blog here.

We have suspected for some time that these blog posts actually do relate to REAL walks. It’s a very clever double-bluff. There were dark rumours of a secret tryst, involving dirty boots and damp trouser legs and a WALK, beginning at the quiet Yorkshire village of Embsay in Craven, once said to be the centre of a legal rambling ring, but never convincingly proved as a fact.

But this time, we had them banged to rights. We sent out Grousey, a radio-controlled clockwork chicken, cunningly disguised as a Red Grouse (that’s a wild bird, not a grumpy socialist) to monitor their every move….

And this is what we saw.

First of all, I have to report, dear readers, that there is NO DOG. Bruno is a figleaf of the imagination. He doesn’t exist. I suspect photoshop, to be honest. Why they should go to this length as to invent a fictitious pet is beyond us. Maybe they just wanted to appear normal or something.

Their was a meeting quite near the once-renowned country inn – The Elm Tree, in Embsay village centre – now cunningly disguised as a coffee shop – but without any coffee….

(You can see just how clever these two are, now, can’t you?)
Under cover of a women’s institute yoga, life drawing and belly dancing seminar, our two suspects sloped discretely off up a quiet lane and disappeared briefly into dense hillfog about 800 feet up the slopes of Crookrise Crag.

Our roving correspondent kept track of them in the improving conditions.

Later.they were seen laughing and joking and drinking “something” out of flasks by the trig point on the top.

The mist slowly cleared to reveal that both were wearing gaiters of the type commonly sported by the mountaineering classes. Already they had expounded more calories than the average Outdoor Blogger in a week of keyboarding.

But let us continue. We must warn you that there are parts of the story coming up which decent home-loving OBs will find quite distasteful. You may wish to alter the contrast on your screens.

They was tracked in their halting progress over deep heather and across a small stream at the head of a waterfall.

One of them was heard to say “Fatdog – that’s a real dog y’know” and they both laughed. Here, they managed to avoid our monitor for a while, but we picked them up again disporting themselves by a large stone Cross teetering on the edge of a beetling crag or cliff. They actually seemed to be enjoying themselves. Outrageous.


And then, a bit later, they were spotted enjoying luncheon beside an obelisk or stone pepperpot, having scared off a couple of innocent day walkers, one of who was heard to say “Quick, put your clothes on, Brenda, there’s somebody coming.”

At this point, we, whilst skillfully monitoring their progress,

were beginning to wonder just exactly what it was that these two get out of this outdoor malarkey, for, given that any sensible OB would of taken the opportunity at this point to descend to the pub at Cracoe, get absolutely blotto on strong spirits and then get a taxi back to Embsay, these two, unbelievably, continued, bashing their way through deep bog and heather to visit yet another trig point.

And, did they then , at this point head for home? Not on your outdoor blogging nelly, they didn’t – they went North to some squalid huts,

one of which they entered, obviously casing the joint for a possible overnight bivi (I told you this would get unpleasant, didn’t I?) and only then – only then did they find a track which led them back towards Embsay.

Behind them, the rejected bothy stood stark on the horizon in the late sun.

And, the final proof, that these two really are involved in Outdoor Activities (I know..it sticks in the craw….) they didn’t descend directly back to Embsay as they could have done. No – they used the last vestiges of daylight to visit Embsay Crag, where they brazenly took photographs and were heard laughing and joking, and waving to dog walkers and sailors below.

We ask you – is this the kind of behaviour we expect from Outdoor Bloggers. I mean , they’re supposed to be blogging, not traipsing about in the countryside.

We save the most damning piece of evidence till the last. They obviously did not have a stove. There was very little evidence of gear testing going on, in fact all of their stuff looked old and used. Martin Knipe looked specially old and used, in fact.

We expect you’ve had to sit down and let the shrapnel of that final devastating bombshell finish rattling around your sensibilities.

They must be Brought to Book (the capitals are important here). This is just blatant.

Comments, please…..we can’t be putting up with this.

Please send your objections and a cheque or postal order for £5 to Alan Lambert, League Against Cruel Rambles, Postcard Pie Cottage, The Flat Mile, Fenland, UK.

Finally, our SPOT activated Grousey reported the following co-ordinates for this most unusual and unexpected OB activity.