Saturday 5th September - Cumbrian fayre; Lowick Show

Andy and Virginia were visiting and it was the morning after the night before for me; a lazy day and plenty of coffee in store. Until somebody suggested a run out to the Lowick Show. Thanks Viginia ; )

In fact it was a fun way to get some life back into myself; the sun shone, helping to dry the mud off our boots, the cakes looked grand and next year Sue says that she'll enter a fruit cake in the home baking competition (though my inspiration was to go home and make chutney...)

A bunch of Cumbrian crooks...

... and their get-away driver

This brings back memories (you had to be there!)

Nasturtiums? I have no idea...

Time I was somewhere else!

Monday 31st August - Liquid lunch on Loughrigg

The first real stretch of my legs following my op. A bright enough day as we set out, but some sneaky weather followed us from the west...

Having left the car on the roadside at Loughrigg Fold, the boys were off on a squirrel chase as swe followed paths around Loughrigg Tarn then through open woodland under Ivy Crag before turning north and gaining height steadily to the knock and lochan plateau of Loughrigg itself. Just befoe topping out a few gusts of wind were followed by a heavy shower which saw us scuttle up to the trig. point and head downhill again without too much delay. The rain soon cleared and we stopped for a quick bite above the trees of Intake Wood. The leaves were just starting to turn so although the views over Loughrigg Tarn and Elterwater are not that extensive, they were pretty special.

A lovely little walk, just right for a late autumn afternoon or crisp winters morning (and another Wainwright ticked off!).

Saturday 8th August 2009 - Changeable weather on Pillar

The forecast suggested a good day and, as we'd not been for a good walk for a while, we'd decided to meet in Wasdale for a look at the tops around Pillar. Leaving my car at Overbeck Bridge, Sue drove us the the Head where, after a quick brew (flask, not vending machine, grrrr!) we headed up into Mosedale under blue but fluffy skies.

The Mosedale Hills with Yewbarrow and the gap of Dore Head to the left, Red Pike and Pillar

From Mosedale, across Wasdale Head toward Illgill Head

The walking on the east side of Mosedale, toward Black Sail pass, is gentle enough with height gained gradually and stunning views back over Wasdale Head with Yewbarrow and Red Pike to the west. What was ominous though was the dark cloud building to the south west and the wind following us from the same direction...

Just below Black Sail pass - before the wind arrives

No sooner did we get onto the ridge proper the wind picked up. The decision to get onto Pillar by the high level path above Ennerdale was the obvious one to go with as it kept us sheltered from the wind and provides great views across Ennerdale to the Buttermere Fells and well beyond.

Black Sail hut and the drumlins at the top of Ennerdale

Soon we were eating lunch - thanks Sue x - by Robinson's Cairn with the Pisgah and High Man, the uppermost parts of Pillar Rock, looming above us. Plenty of other folk wandered past, all heading toward the Shamrock traverse and the summit plateau of Pillar itself.

Plaque unveiled by Cecil Slingsby commemorating one of Lakeland's earliest climbers and guides

The top of Shamrock traverse, Pisgah, the Notch and High Man from Robinson's Cairn

The pull uphill from the Cairn goes surprisingly easily, mostly I suspect due to the interest underfoot! Verging on easy scrambling the situation soon gives great views onto the rocky butresses of the Rock and, today, climbers getting ready to bail from the top in ever-decreasing visibility.

Sue leaving Pisgah and High Man behind

My compass and map came out 30 feet below the plateau so that I could take a quick bearing toward the summit cairn in the wind shadow rather than take a pasting once "over the edge". Despite the precaution, things weren't too bad on the top, though the weather wasn't conducive to hanging about! One group that we'd spoken with earlier had decided to descend into Ennerdale via White Pike rather than the ridge leading back to Black Sail, but, despite having their GPS on the job, were unable to find the path. Having checked their map and working out a compass bearing for the ridge to Black Sail option, the last we saw was them heading back toward White Pike.

We had a think about where next; given the weather and complete lack of view (as might be expected in 50 metre visibility) the most direct way off had to be Wind Gap into Mosedale. So, a quick bearing and off into the clag. Now, today's lesson begins... most direct does NOT mean quickest. In fact, this descent has to be one of the worst I've ever made in the the Lakes; from 2920 feet to 620 feet - that's 2300 feet - in a mile. Thrashing over run-out scree or blocks varying between housebrick and big loaf size. Or thin soil over rock. Just not nice and a quads killer. Next time I'll be staying with the plan and going over Little Scoat Fell, turning towards Red Pike before dropping down to Scoat Tarn at the col unless the weather really kicks up in which case it'll be back the way we came or south east back to Black Sail pass.

Anyways, all's well that ends well and, despite being at Wasdale Head, the cuppa at the bottom definitely went down a treat!

The boys chillin' on Pillar

Post-script: On Sunday night 23 people were led off Pillar, from the Looking Stead area, by members of Wasdale and Cockermouth MRTs. The weather was markedly better than we'd had; their torches were seen from Black Sail Hut and the teams alerted. Apparently this was the 6th incident involving the same Gateshead school and Lakes MRTs in so many years...slow learners or just trying to get closer to their God?

25th & 26th July 2009 - Sea kayaking - in search of peace and quiet

Somewhere local and not too challenging for Sue's first overnight from our sea kayaks; launch at Roa Island, float up Barrow Channel with the tide, lunch break, tide turns, back down to Piel Island for the night and an easy paddle back the following morning. Sue checked with the pub on Piel and, yes, they were serving food, yes, we could camp on the island, yes, the facilities exist but are a tad basic. I consulted the chart, tide tables, almanac and weather forecast.

So: weather looking fine but blowing up a bit overnight on Saturday. Tides good for the plan. Kit packed in the car on Friday night and a lazy Saturday start saw us loading said kit into our boats by the Bosun's Locker under blazing blue skies. What could go wrong... oh dear, oh dear me!

Indian country? Between Barrow and Walney Island

The tide was certainly behaving exactly as forecast as we left Roa brhind us and were swept easily along the channel, first past the saltings and the dockside housing estates of Barrow. Then the docks themselves, staring across to suburban Walney, as we threaded our way between moored yachts on the edge of the deep water channel. Maybe it was the sunshine and blue skies, or the ease with which we part drifted, part paddled, enjoying the familiar landscape from an unfamiliar viewpoint. Either way, this was fun!

The lifting bridge closed as we approached, having let a fleet of yachts through ahead of us, although with no wind to speak of we were soon gaining on, and then, paddling like a frenzied thing taking frenzy pills, Sue was passing some of them! To top that, she spotted a beach for our lunch stop - on the opposite side of the channel. No worries; the water-bourne banshee promptly paddled straight through the middle of the annual Round Walney regatta fleet!

Lunch time and high water - Black Combe across the Duddon estuary

The current in the channel was still running to the north as we set out again, now paddling upstream back towards Barrow. As it turns out, the tide doesn't turn at, or anywhere near, high water. In fact it continues to run to the north as the northern end of the channel simply drains into the Duddon estuary, leaving this end of the channel high and dry until the next flood. Acording to the locals, the current slackens (relative term!) about 90 minutes after HW; take note for next time.

Once clear of the road bridge - which involved some strenuous break-outs and hard paddling between eddies - we could start to relax again. Hugging the Walney coast, we passed salt-marshes with plenty of bird life and cross currents caused by lagoons emptying into the main channel. Taking care to keep more than a few inches of water under our keels, we slowly made our way back toward Piel Island and our overnight stop.

Piel Island - campsite, pub and popular party venue

Before long we were ashore and our tent pitched between the pub and castle; we did make one or two unexpected observations though: the pub was closed for a refit; a burger van was parked outside the pub and a large marquee had been erected by the bunkhouse which was substituting bar... A walk around the island (less than 10 minutes) led us to believe that (a) we weren't alone and (b) that we shouldn't expect a quiet night!

The Ship Inn and outbuldings on Piel (oh, and the 14th century castle)

The Yorkshire Dales across Morecombe Bay

South Walney from Piel Island

The rest of the evening unfolded; down to the pub, minute steak and fries for dinner, more cider, a busload (literally - a bus brought them from Barrow to Walney) of folk walked or drove onto the island over mud that we'd paddled over a couple of hours earlier, the music started and a merry old time was had by all. Except maybe the youngsters who over-did the drink, had their tents collapsed as the wind and rain arrived in the small hours and left their belongings and much of their stomach lining in the field before climbing onto the ferry in the morning.

Barrow Channel - Low Water (note the 4x4 driving across from Walney)

Coniston Old Man above Roa Island

Party time on Piel Island!

Just before Sue & I gave our rendition of Flower of Scotland...

(it wasn't just the kids that enjoyed their evening!)

Sunday 5th July - Seals chips and ice cream...

Roa Island Boat Club, an apparently detached head wearing a floppy white hat swimming through the moorings, a "close-run thing" with the lifeboat (don't wait at the bottom of the slip when she's being launched!), Piel Island and the castle.

Sue smiling (I suspect) as she turned her boat in the chop of South Walney and then surfed back in so that we could go bother the seals - "how do you do that rudder thing...?"; paddling in a tee shirt.

The Bosun's Locker, hand-cut, crispy chips with tomato ketchup. Double scoop ice cream, blazing sunshine, coffee and a bench overlooking Peil Island, the RNLI station and Barrow Channel.

Happy days!

I'm watching you....

...not...

...am...

Sue and Piel Castle

Saturday 4th July - Ever rushed to catch a train?

Despite setting the alarm clock and actually getting out of bed early on a Saturday morning, by the time we reached the beach by Conishead Priory there was only about an hour and a half of the flood tide left so we set off on a long ferry glide toward Chapel Island. On arriving we discovered that it was no island at all, bring connected to the far side of Morecombe Bay by a sand and shingle spit; good feeding for the ducks, geese and other waders though. We quickly spun the boats around in water only 6" deep in places - amazing how much power one can put into a stroke when half an inch of paddle blade is buried in the sand - and made for Canal Foot and the Leven estuary.

Geese walking on water by Chapel Island

There was still a bit of the flood tide left and before too long we passed Canal Foot and had a good view of the Hoad Monument standing above Ulverston. Except we didn't since it is wrapped in scaffolding and protective sheets in readiness for repair work (probably as soon as this fantastic spell of weather breaks!).

Cracking on, we passed under the railway viaduct - where we were "buzzed" by a train - and into the estuary proper. This is a surprisingly peaceful, unspoilt area. Open fields and farmland lead the eye to wooded, low lying hillsides above the estuary and there were plenty of birds feeding on the ever shrinking sand banks as the tide reached its peak. Plenty of small fish breaking the surface also - maybe along the freshwater / saltwater boundary or because we were disturbing them, the water or the estuary bed - who knows?

Sue, Canal Foot and the Hoad Monument

We were now an hour after HW and so time to head back downstream. Just as well we called it when we did; although we had probably a knot and a half carrying us down (by Canal Foot), by the time reached the beach the water had dropped so far that we had a good 100 metres of mud to drag the boats across. The coffee sure did taste good after that!

Back onto the Bay - Chapel Island in the distance

Sunday 28th July - Afternoon tea and scones...

A beautiful day, blazing sunshine and barely a breeze; just begging for us to take the boats to Coniston.

For a change we left the west of the lake alone, choosing instead to launch from Bailiffs Wood car park about halfway along the lakes east shore. A very easy launch site with the car park across the road from the lake and a total carry of perhaps 20 metres; well, it was hot!

Making certain that we had some marks to identify the landing point on our return, Sue and I headed north along the shore; plenty of other folk had the same idea as us; kids swimming, canoes, SOTs, sailing boats, from decent sized cruisers to mirror dinghies, racing - great to see so many folk out on the water. The sailors seemed pretty chilled rather than competitive; we were easily out pacing them and for those that were moving, it was paddle, rather than wind power that was giving them any advantage.

After an easy hour we were on the beach at Coniston slip where tea, scones and ice creams were taken, sitting in the sun watching the world (and its many dogs) go by. Duly refuelled, we headed back past Coniston Hall and the sailing club; the yachts were still on the Lake, seemingly going nowhere in any kind of a hurry. Before long we picked up the marks indicating the car park, best part of 6 miles paddled. After some soggy fun and games, each taking it in turn to play rescuer and victin (of a capsize, not indigestion) in water that was verging on warm, it was back over the road into the car park where we were duly fed upon by swarms of horse flies. Ah well, no such thing as perfection...

Coniston Hall - big chimneys were a 16th century status symbol!

Tuesday 16th June - More of the same?

Dave ("Sound of the seagull") from UKRGBS was working at the Big Factory and staying at the Seacote in St Bees; as close to the beach as you can get without waking up with sand between your toes. And he was hoping to find a willing partner-in-crime to make his week working away from home worthwhile...

Of course, as anyone who knows me will tell you you, I'm a complete tart when it comes to getting on the water and so it was, after a couple of emails and texts, that we met by the lifeboat station, said our hellos and got on with the business in hand. If Carlsberg did dogging, this is what it would be like!

We launched off the very bottom of the slip at just after 6pm so about half an hour before HW Whitehaven, virtually on LW neaps. The sea was far calmer than over the weekend when Sue and I had been out and we made rapid progress round around the South Head and across Fleswick Bay. Despite a few boulderers below the lighthouse the birds were quieter than at the weekend (busy day in the office maybe?) and we plodded on under the North Head and across Saltom Bay, straight-lining toward Whitehaven harbour. Having stood off to avoid the myriad of fishing lines that came flying off the harbour wall, we beached on the "Golden Sands" and stretched our legs whilst munching cereal bars and Dave recorded the Welsh invasion by photographing the statues recalling John Paul Jones's somewhat earlier invasion of April 1778.

After a chat with a couple of locals (Eee, it'll be reet lumpy on t'way back; enjoy your "row"...." we turned the boats around and once more braved the volley of lead and nylon flying in all directions from the harbour walls. Despite the warning, progress across Saltom Bay was good, with a short chop but nothing to worry us. As soon as we turned the North Head though the bad news arrived as if by Express Delivery; the wind had built to something more than a breeze - and we were paddling straight into it. Thankfully there was a slight run to the south but this also gave us a little wind-over-wave action so it wasn't just a stiff paddle but a wet one as well. Given that the water temperature was around "cool bath" (technical term) this wasn't a problem; the burning sensation in my deltoids was though! Crossing Fleswick Bay at a sprint was the killer - I guessed that around full-on 200 paddle strokes would maybe do it, but stopped counting at 300 and dropped the cadence by about a half. Dave had stayed within 30 metres of me all the way but soon closed up and restarted conversation from that point on...

It was just 9 o'clock as we hit the sand and I walked up to bring the car down for boats and kit. A relieved Sue answered the phone; I'd obviously missed the usual evening natter!

A good evening, opportunistic paddling and a solid workout over 13 miles, plus an invite to give Dave a shout to paddle North Wales anytime we head down there. Once more, whether you see it as Karma or paddling tart, it works for me...

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