Monday 10th November - Beats the office...

Surprisingly, not only was the little beach under water, but so was the wall halfway up to the first step on banks of the Greta, downstream of the park in Keswick. That didn't stop us having a quick look at Newlands Beck, but that was looking too lumpy to bother with and so it was back to Keswick and, having dropped motor behind the climbing wall that used to be, Paul and I headed toward Threlkeld and the usual get-on.

The white mark on the bridge that signifies minimum level for paddling during November and December was out of sight, at a guess 3 or 4 inches underwater, so we jumped on with the river running at a tidy lick. I'd like to think that this was a realistic level and any lower really not worthwhile.

There were a team of open boaters ahead of us and a group of 4 kayakers jumping on as we left; hope they all had a good run, enjoying the sunshine as we did. Also - green insulating tape does work a treat for keeping a dressing in place in the wet. Far better though not to head-butt the car while brushing sausage roll crumbs off your paddling kit; the blood gets in your eyes and just isn't a good look!

Saturday 8th November - Castle Head

It has been ages, probably 15 years, since I was last on Castle Head. Unbelievable seeing that it is literally only 15 minutes brisk walk from Keswick town centre and has views to die for!

We struck lucky; despite the day being dank and dull, the sun started to break through as we arrived on top and caught a lucky couple of photos.

Cat Bells and Maiden Moor loom above a steely Derwentwater

The Heads catch a few rays with the only lake in the Lake District beyond

Sunday 2nd November - and off to Church...

Well to Furness Abbey (St Mary of Furness) in Barrow for a poke around the ruins!

Really quite an eye-opener too. Originally a Benedictine monastery founded by monks in forested land gifted by King Stephen in 1127, it grew in wealth and power under the Cistercian order, ultimately becoming the second richest in England after Fountains Abbey. The remains of the abbey lie in a wooded valley; the "vale of nightshade" described by Wordsworth in his 1805 Prelude. A small stream - Mill Beck - flows through the valley in canals under and around the abbey buildings.

The precinct and outer court are there in outline only, but the abbey church with its north and south trancepts and great west tower, originally 160' high, but now standing just 60' above the nave, form the greater part of the ruin. The chapter house, cloister and undercroft lead south, away from the church toward the chapel, buttery and kitchen.

St Mary of Furness or Furness Abbey (from Dalton online)

The undercroft and south trancept

Sandstone bricks form the vaulted kitchen ceiling

Saturday 1st November - Early snow on the Old Man

Tuesday 28th October - Borrowdale after the floods...

A second day of bright sunshine following the torrential weather that caused weekend flooding in Borrowdale and Buttermere; I thought I'd go take a gander. Of course, I kept the boat on the roof of course just in case I somehow ended up grabbing a cheeky pootle down the Greta while over there!

Well, despite everything, the Greta was as dry as a witches tit, as were Newlands, Langstrath and Gatesgarth Becks - any of which would have been worth jumping on and walking the shuttle. The upper Derwent was full of gravel beaches, Grains Gill looked like late summer - in fact everything that wasn't lake fed was dog low. Lake fed rivers on the other hand were still way up, but I didn't fancy a long bouncey float and a taxi back to the car!

What was surprising was the number of drystone walls that had been breached by the flood waters of the weekend. Between Castle Crag and Rosthwaite there must have been a dozen or more walls that had been blown out, with trails of rock spread, like blast debris, up to a hundred metres across fields on the downstream side of the walls. Sticks and vegetation was trapped in fences and bushes anything up to 5 feet above ground level across the widest part of the upper Borrowdale valley; it really must have been carnage. Buttermere seemed to have fared better with little sign of flood damage.

Red Pike and High Stile above Gatesgarth Beck

The countryside was recovering well though and had a fresh look about the place with a sprinkling of early snow across on the Helvellyn ridge and Great Gable.

A dusting of snow on Great Gable, looming above Haystacks

Sunday 26th October - Water, water everywhere...

...but no-one came out to play!

What with the planned trip to Scotland having been shelved, after watching the rain falling all day (and, on the way across to the Dales with Sue and her folks, taking a heart-stopping look at Backbarrow), Saturday night was spent scouring the guidebook, pawing over maps, entering coordinates into the satnav and hatching plans for a Sunday paddle. Complete waste of time though since, come the day, nobody turned out...

The Leven at Backbarrow Bridge; an hour later the river completely filled the arch!

I couldn't let it go, deciding that a detour through the Duddon was a better alternative than driving all the way to Keswick for a Greta solo, and so it was that I met Jo and Mike from Peterborough while hanging about (well, taking photos) on the bank of Church Beck. A quick chat and we were off to Birks Bridge for a blast down the upper Duddon from below Birks to Wallowbarrow Gorge. This has to be one of the best G3 sections in the Lakes and catching it at a great level and in sunshine made up for what had turned out to be a frustrating weekend. My new found mates had to pack-up sharpish - they were tearing off to Ennerdale for the 9km hike to the top of the valley for a run down the Liza! Best of luck to them, hope there was still enough water by the time they'd made it.

Easier section of Church Beck - doesn't look like G5 from here...

The slot above Birks Bridge - not today thank you!

This weekend also saw Borrowdale flooded (up to 8 feet deep on the road below Rosthwaite) and the OMM called off part way through the first day. Probably the biggest spate paddling day or two in the Lakes for many a year...

Sunday 19th October - High, Low and a long way there and back...

"Let's see if there's any water in the Greta and then decide where to paddle....". Well, that was a sort of a plan and resulted in Andrew, Phil and me meeting Paul near Mirehouse outside Keswick. Needless to say, there was nowhere near enough water in the Greta, or in any other north Lakes river. On interrogating Jane we decided that the upper Tees was only another 55 miles up the road, giving us a "plan B" option of looking at the lower Tees at Barnard Castle if the upper wasn't working. And the pie-shop at Brough was en-route! Debate over and away we went. Andrew was soon snoring his head off but the pie stop woke him up, which was just as well as the B road between Brough and Middleton is a drivers dream and my driving would have woken him anyway!

As it happened, the river was at a good level; Salmon Leap rapid was its meaty self; Andrew nailing his line, me capsizing and somehow rolling back up as I went over the main drop and Phil doing some brilliant surfing to escape the sticky hole at the entrance, running the middle section backwards before recovering well in time to punch the bottom slot.

Me upright - for a change - in the middle of Salmon Leap (January 2007)

Low Force came up all too soon; some needed more convincing than others, but we all threw ourselves off the lip without incident before finishing off with a blind run into a tight line down Wynch Bridge rapid.

Andrew on Low Force (January 2007)

All in all, good day out, far better that the weather suggested that we should have had and despite a 200 mile round trip!

Wynch Bridge rapid with Low and Middle Force above (from Google)

The suspension footbridge across the Tees at Wynch Bridge is believed to be the oldest permanent suspension bridge in Engand, erected in 1741 for use by lead miners to cross the river gorge. The original bridge had a wooden deck and chain handrail to one side only, such that anyone crossing it experienced "such a tremulous motion of the chain...on an agitated, restless gangway to which few strangers dare trust themselves." This bridge collapsed in 1802, surprising the lead miner who was walking across it at the time - though not for long as he fell into the river and was drowned! A second bridge was then built, later to be replaced, in 1830, by the current bridge.

Coincidenally, only a fortnight ago I was on the oldest packhorse bridge in the Lakes, the Friars Bridge on the River Calder...

Saturday 18th October - Two Heads are better than one...

A breezy day with black clouds over the hills so we did a kayak-type shuttle with the cars, leaving mine at St Bees and Sue the dubious pleasure of driving to St Bees Lighthouse ("That sign said that this is a private road...." and "Does "No access to unauthorised vehicles" mean us?"). We were soon parked by the lighthouse and heading back towards St Bees over the North and South headlands, dropping down into Fleswick Bay where we collected wild watercress (as in growing wild, not growling at us or anything so odd) and watched some impressive surf doing its bit to resculpt the coastline.

Fleswick Bay and the South Head

St Bees Lighthouse and the North Head

10th - 12th October - Wales with boats (and it rained!)

Paul and me, a cheeky weekend away to Betws-y-Coed. And we actually had decent water this time!

Friday afternoon gave us just enough time to run from the Chainbridge down to Town Falls at Llangollen. The approach to, and rapid above the Serpent's Tail was completely washed out; so much so that I was actually doubting we had reached the rapid when inspecting it from the bank. All that was to be seen was a river twice as wide as usual, big wave train where the rapid should have been and a stopper that would have resulted in serious downtime with a side portion of undercut cliff on the right bank. No thank you, appetite gone!

JJ's was big and fast and Town Falls interesting. Paul picked his moment (me mid-debate with a guy claiming that we were trespassing - again!) to pick up his boat and carry it into town, leaving me to run the Falls solo. All went surprisingly well, taking a wide centre line, cutting back right at the final lip where a brief backward slide into a surf session resulted in a comedy roll and skillful self-rescue swim under the bridge. Apparently it all happened so quickly that Paul almost got himself run over as he ran from one side of the bridge to the other in order to check if I was ever coming out. How ironic that could have been!

Saturday saw us grab two bouncy runs down the middle Llugwy from Pont Cyfyng to Forestry Falls (Paul enjoyed the big wave trains and Forestry Falls far more the second time around) and a blast down the middle Conwy, egressing through Rachael's garden, so avoiding the angry farmer at Rhydlanfair bridge and getting a good brew from her cafe / caravan.

Bright sunshine on Sunday morning caused a major attack of sitting in the sun, enjoying the view up into the Llugwy valley, drinking tea and chomping shortbread while deciding where to head next. As everything was drying out, we took the sensible option; more tea and a cruise by the Tryweryn for photos and, err, tea...

Sunday 5th October - Educating Fishermen on the Esk

A quick afternoon run down the Lakes Esk. Despite huge overnight rain, the river level was falling very quickly and we would have been much better of getting on earlier, but no worries, it was a paddle. Until it turned into a debate about the rights and wrongs of paddlers using the same water as fishermen...

Did we know that the EA had declared the Esk to be unnavigable and therefore not accesible to canoeists? (They haven't and it isn't.)
Did we belong to the British Canoe Association - because they have a special arrangement with the fisheries not to use the river? (I do and they don't)
Did we know we were trespassing? (We're on the river and so cannot be trespassing)
Did we not appreciate that they (fishermen) pay lots of money to fish this river? (Yes I suspect that's the case, so why not crack on and enjoy your fishing instead of whinging and spoiling our day?)

And why did one of these guys threaten to catch me with his spinner? He turned rather sheepish when I paddled directly towards him and asked if he wanted me to get onto the bank so that he could repeat his threat to my face. Oh please...