Sunday 14th June - More sun at St Bees

After the bouncy bouncy session of the previous day, Sue decided that we ought to get back in our boats and give the sea gods another chance. Always happy to please, I chucked kit into bags and boats onto the car and slogged the 4 miles to the beach with the promise of a picnic at Fleswick Bay (well, a banana and a sip of juice if she was lucky!)

Happily the wind had eased and conditions were much more like those that we had noticed the previous evening when taking the dogs for a walk towards Saltom Bay from Whitehaven harbour. Not calm by any means, but not overly bumpy either. However the sea was a good few hundred yards further away than previously due to a low tide, so it was a drive across the sands to drop the boats off before launching into a gentle, but eminently surfable, swell.

Cruising toward the North Head and Fleswick Bay

Fortunately the wind had dropped away to next to nothing and the going was relatively easy. Sue soon got used to the pitching and was keeping a good course under the colonies of sea birds on the cliffs. We both giggled at the "incoming" straffing runs of (I think!) guillemots and at the way they take of by first flapping, then running before desperately belly flopping onto the face of a wave and bouncing into the air.

"Guano Towers" the high-rise tenement that is St Bees South Head

We paddled on past Fleswick Bay, as far as St Bees lighthouse which is quite invisible from below the cliffs, being over 100 metres above sea level and set back from the sandstone cliff tops. Having pointed out the Fishermen's Steps to Sue, we turned back, towards the beach at Fleswick for our lunch stop. Launching off the sea-polished pebbles was simplicity, despite the dumpy surf that was giving the pebbles even more of a polish. Sue quickly adjusted to the steeper waves that the breeze was nudging toward us and was well into her stride as we rounded the South Head, to the slipway at St Bees and the car.

Sue's Scorpio makes light work of the chop on the way back to St Bees

Saturday 13th June - Surf's up...

Bright sunshine much of the week, gentle westerlies and a convenient afternoon tide; I couldn't believe my luck when Sue suggested getting the sea boats out on Saturday!

Unfortunately there was more of a swell than we'd bargained for running up the beach at St Bees and Sue's face was something of a picture! Obviously the planned trip under the Heads was dropped and replaced with "let's just have a pootle around off the the beach" and see how we get on plan. No problem as it turned out. After the F5 experience in Ravenglass estuary, Sue was well up for this; out through the surf, into the swell, turning across it, running with a quartering sea and finally surfing back into the corner of the beach. No problem at all and, bonus, I got back on for a play in the surf before running both boats back onto the slipway.

The water is surprisingly warm at the moment - must get on it more often...

Running the Sirocco back between the groynes

Sunday 10th May - Wastwater Screes

Sunday 3rd May - Windermere and Hoad

Saturday 2nd May - All at sea on Coniston

April 25 / 26 - Anglesey Weekend

Saturday 18th April - All Crinkle-y in the sunshine

Saturday morning and the alarm goes off at 7:30 - what on earth is that all about? Making sure that we would find a parking place at Cockley Beck is the reason for such madness, well worthwhile given the clear blue skies noted through bleary eyes...

We weren't the only ones enjoying tne sunshine: this little fella was basking in the middle of the road above Troutal when we surprised him...

Nearly had him for the dogs elevenses...

We were lucky enough to find a parking place (with only one big rock in it!) exactly where we wanted to be, just over Stockley Bridge at the bottom of the Hardknott Pass. Bruce and Dougal were raring to go, so off they went, dragging us along behind them...

Esk Pike, Ore Gap and Bowfell from Lingcove Beck

Soon enough we were gaining height and the panorama opened revealing the complete Scafell ridge across the Great Moss, Esk Pike, Ore Gap, Bowfell and the west flank of Crinkle Crags above us; one of the best views in the Lakes. Behind us, the flat valley bottom of Eskdale appeared emerald green and the Irish Sea vanished into the distant haze. Tough day, but somebody had to be there!

Eskdale, Corney Fell and the Irish Sea behind us

Cam Spout Crag, Scafell, East Butress, Mickledore and Scafell Pike across Pike de Bield Moss

When it turns hot Bruce pants: Sue just shrinks...

Tuesday 14th April - Waving, not drowning...

or, to put it another way, trying, not climbing!

Making the most of unseasonal Bank Holiday weather, Dave and I had planned a days climbing on Wallowbarrow, but, due to a bird-ban, headed toward Castle Rock at Thirmere instead. Given a lack of guidebook and familiarity with the crag, plan C saw us parking at Martin's farm under Shepherds Crag in Borrowddale. Oh how eager we were...

Kitting up below Crescendo there was a bit of banter going on, not just with the team heading up Little Chamonix, but also between us; this was our first time climbing together and, for us both, the first time climbing anything of a reasonable grade for, well, quite a while! Basing my packing on the Met Office forecast for Easter, I'd taken my kayak and paddling kit to Sue's for the weekend so to say that I was ill-prepared for a day cragging would be a little understated.

Anyways, Dave made quick time leading up the back of the big flake to the ledge half-way up the first pitch. Fired some gear in, pondered, poked, prodded and prevaricated. Then he brought me up to the ledge where I did the same. Climbing down was straightforward enough but the realisation that I was struggling at such a low grade was not! Off to Brown Slabs then for a warm up on a route that we would get up...

Straight up the middle crack; Dave led the first half, me the second. Not a problem, straight to the top. Happily I'd climbed in my trainers, so the slippy slidey descent around the back of the crag wasn't too traumatic (the rock shoes that Dave had loaned me had been trying to remove my toes from my feet until now).

Lunch over and onwards and, hopefully upwards. Ardus was occupied (plus I can remember the final, commiting move into the crack from the final traverse) so it was Fishers Folly. Not a problem; I'd soloed it and had good memories of bomber protection; good to go... Dave gave me the rope. My lead. Well; there was protection aplenty. It was holds that I couldn't find. Eventually, maybe 20 feet and 6 nuts later, I was downclimbing, protected by Dave from below. Soon Dave was up at the sharp end, finishing the pitch with a committing couple of moves and setting a belay at the top of the groove. My lead - the traverse across an overhang, long steps, little holds. It wasn't going to happen and so, after a quick(ish) abseil and packing gear, we were soon having a brew at High Lodore farm and discussing how our arms ached more than our legs. Or was it the other way around?

I knew that I had soloed it - but 33 years is quite a gap!

Sunday April 12th - Leven and Greenodd woods

Saturday 11th April - Coniston sunset

Well, if we'd started an hour later, it would have been sunset time-ish. Sue and I, early evening, clear sky, sunshine - boats on the roof and down to Coniston for an quick plosh on the lake.

I'm not certain why, but I couldn't fit my butt into the new i4, despite using all the outfitting from the old one. The seat is definitely an inch or so forward in the new one, but apart from that? Maybe it because it's a yellow boat? Or the fancy ratchet things pul the backrest too far forward? Despite the weather, the water was still very cold - at least when hanging from an upside-down kayak, mid-roll.

Sue paddling towards Coniston Old Man