Tuesday 13th January - Newlands Beck
Rain! At last; water in something other than solid form. Paul's shifts and my frustration demanded a cheeky days leave and some paddling action. Sorted.
Meeting in Keswick for a pre-paddle brew, it was clear that there was water about; the Greta was well up on the bottom step at Fitz Park so we decided to haul over to the Newlands valley and get on the beck at Little Town.
What a blast, not at all complicated by a missing spray deck, open drysuit zip, dodged strainers, upside down moments and the usual antics of an early season splash. No cobwebs left on either of us by the time we arrived at the Adventure Centre and hopped off the water, much to the amusement of some elderly walkers. Happy that they were happy!
Once off and changed, we drove up over Newlands Pass; I'd seen the b&w photo (below) on a photography site and wanted a closer look at the lower part of the beck it captured - Sail Beck. The photo shows the upper part of the beck which runs down past the top of the Pass; my thinking was that it would be feasible to drive to the top of the Pass, hoof boats cross-country down to the beck and run it to Buttermere.
Upper Sail Beck (from the 'net)
From what we could see of it, much of the beck falls steeply through open fellside with a couple of steeper drops / small falls. Certainly tight, twisty and technical, it will need some heavy rain to bring it up to anything other than plastic grinder level. It eventually disappears into a wooded steep sided valley, verging on a ravine. At least one steep, twisting slot / drop could be seen through the trees and deadwood strainers are most likely to be a problem. Definitely interesting but needs a half day with boots and bowsaws before a full on paddle methinks...
Friday 2nd January - Jack's Rake
Another fine, bright (if early) morning and our kit was already packed so we were well ahead of the crowds as we pulled into a field and parked opposite the New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel in Langdale. Stopping in the bar to use the loo - sorry - to pay the parking fee was the only delay before heading up the path which parallels Stickle Ghyll and leads up to the tarn. Well, that and the fact we couldn't find our way out of the pub garden...
I just put my head down and pushed myself up the "made" path, criss-crossing the frozen beck and pausing every so often for Sue to catch up (and for me to catch my breath). Before long we could see queues of cars heading into the valley delivering more bodies who, like a row of ants, were soon wandering up the path behind us.
Before long the path narrowed, entering a confining gulley, and we crossed the beck on frosty, snow covered rocks before pulling up and into the hollow where Stickle Tarn sits, reflecting the south east facing crag of Pavey Ark.
Pavey Ark across Stickle Tarn
After a few minutes admiring the view and deciding not to walk straight across the frozen tarn, we were off again, around the tarn to the foot of the crag. It was at this point we enjoyed a philosophical discussion regarding the concepts involved in walking, scrambling and climbing. When I say enjoyed, it was perhaps more of a matter of enlightenment. For me. I subsequently had a crystal clear understanding of just what parts of my anatomy Sue was going to remove should this walk turn into a climb rather than a scramble. And I was sure, no, certain, that there would be ice on Jack's Rake. Jack's Rake being our route to the top of Pavey Ark and, as famously described by A W Wainwright, the limit to what a walker should reasonably attempt.... I was convinced that while we'd get to the top, perhaps not all of me would be coming down again!
Sue SMILING at the foot of Jack's Rake
Technically, not Walking but Scrambling. Definitely not Climbing!
Excellent progress was made right up until we found the icy section. Photographs are now noticeable by their absence; I was busy with the rope which came out to give Sue a little confidence, secured from a first rate rock-spike belay where I could sit and watch the rope with my legs firmly crossed. We were both safe!
Once over this minor hiatus all was good, scrambling up the long slanting groove come ledge to finish with a steep rising traverse across a clean slab. Success - we were at the top, no epics and physically intact. Just in time for lunch.
Phew - I think that I got away with it!
Crinkle Crags to Great Gable - the heart of the Lakes
Below Thorn Crag on our way back to the NDG
Thursday 1st January - Hampsfield Fell
My first blog entry of 2009 and so a Happy New Year to one and all, may it be kind and bring you and your loved ones much happiness.
Sue had left me dragging my mouse all over Memory Map with instructions to find us a wander somewhere. Just as well I'm motivated by strong women (hahahahahaha)....
Anyways, between MM and Google, I became aware of a "Hospice" built "to provide shelter for travellers" on top of Hampsfield Fell, aka Hampsfell, sitting above Cartmel and surrounded by limestone pavement and the Priory should be light from inside as dusk falls. Hmmm - not too far to drive, nor to actually walk and plenty of interest. Now I just need to convince Sue...
"Oh, the hospice on Hampsfell" she said as she wandered downstairs, "Yes, that's a good walk, been up there a few times...." Doh! I shoulda known. We were soon off, dogs keen as ever, Broccoli and Stilton soup, rolls and treats in the bag and the camera over the shoulder.
The Hospice on Hampsfell
From inside the Hospice...
North west across the limestone pavement
Let's be off then
Now, I can usually manage with a map, especially when I know where I am and can see where I want to go. On this occasion however, barbed wire, farmers gates and some large, hairy livestock convinced me otherwise! A bit of a back-track saw us evade the beasts in Borwick's Aynsome (the farm), nip around the walled garden and through the grounds of Longlands Hall. I can live this down - thankfully - as there was a footpath sign on the "other" side of the farm; though the farmer and his livestock were welcome to it!
Cartmel Priory - sadly closed to visitors this evening
Monday 28th December - Hoad & The Flan
A quick wander over Hoad and the Flan in blazing sunshine was just the thing to blow some cobwebs away and got me thinking..."the Flan"? What's that all about? Something for me to ponder once Google became more readily available to me than while ass-down in the mud having slid, slithered and fallen down the side of Hoad....
Hoad and the monument
Winter sunshine and shadow
Some time later....
Not a lot of joy researching "the Flan" but some words on the name of the town at least - "Dr. Whitaker says "the oldest orthography of the name is Olvaston, or Ulvaston; and I am disposed to think that the modern "r" is epenthetical, and that it was originally the town of Ulpha. Others disputing this etymology ask by what process Ulphus could be metamorphosed into Ulvers. In the provincial dialect it is pronounced Ouston."
Unfortunately there is no mention of who Dr Whitaker might be or from where the quote was sourced... maybe I should try to land on my head next time?
Sunday 27th December - Tilberthwaite Photofest
Ooh - a brilliant day; bright sunshine, blue sky, hard frost, crisp. From Tilberthwaite car park we headed off up Yewdale Beck and Tilberthwaite Gill before turning north into Dry Cove. Leaving the path, a little cross-country took us past Blake Rigg, below Hawk Rigg, then down the hill to the path by Greenburn Beck. Back in the valley it was time for food before looping down past Low Hall Garth, Slater Bridge and the abandoned quarries where Cathedral Cave is still waiting my first visit!
The bridleway soon led us back to the car, but not before the dogs had a close encounter of the hairy kind...
The bridleway soon led us back to the car, but not before the dogs had a close encounter of the hairy kind...
Langdale Pikes and Little Langdale
Trees below Hawk Rigg
Party sheep?
Ice with a twist
Little Langdale Tarn, Ill Bell away to the right
Errrrm.....woof?....please??
Fancy dry-stone wall in Tilberthwaite
And how seasonal is this...Friday 26th December - Birk Rigg
Just in time to catch the last of the daylight; off with Sue and the dogs up and over Birk Rigg. This really is a fantastic viewpoint; inland, over Ulverston to the Coniston, Fairfield and High Street fells, to the south across Morecombe Bay, out west to the setting sun and Irish Sea and Black Combe to the north. Sadly these photos just don't do the views justice - something to work on next time the light is right!
Ulverston, the Coniston fells (left) and High Street fells (right)
The sun sinking into Morecombe Bay
25th December - Big Christmas day sky
Time to walk off at least some of the turkey and pudding...
Calm across the Bay
Tuesday 22nd December - Bardsea beach
Overlooking Morecombe Bay, Heysham and, on a "good" day, Blackpool, Bardsea is almost on the doorstep and the dogs love it. Good enough reasons to stretch our legs then...
Towards Birk Rigg
Dougal chasing - erm - sand!
Bruce - posing for a change!
Sunday 21st December - 5 go wild on the Leven
Paul, Jodie, Lancs Lad, aka Anthony, Innes and yours truly arranged the shuttle outside the Newby Bridge cafe; deciding to leave my car there, I duly dumped the i4 on it putting a readily identifiable dent and scape down the rear passenger door just so I wouldn't confuse it with any other Octavia left there while we were away. Innes wasn't paddling following a recent incident involving bollards and, ermmm, bollocks, so he was happy to run the shuttle for us. As he and I arrived back from Haverthwaite, Ned landed and joined forces so it was five on the Leven after all. Even if there were six of us.
Jodie drops out below Backbarrow Weir
Ned takes one full face surfing below the graveyard
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