Saturday 2nd February 2008
I’ve written this report a little differently to normal. Ordinarily I write the report in the evening following the walk, however during the past year I noticed that I was spending longer and longer on the report and less time simply relaxing after a potentially very exhausting walk. This had to stop after the new year in the Lake District when I realised I had just spent over two hours writing a report. It had gotten ridiculous and I needed a better way of working so I thought I would try recording my reports as I did the walks. What I mean is since I always take an mp3 player with me when walking I could use that to record my thoughts as I was walking and then it can be written up a couple of days later at my leisure. I often draft the report in my head as I walk anyway so this time I'd be able to record it fresh. I still wrote a quick report on the walk in the evening but it was very small and took me no more than 15 minutes. After a practise the weekend before on a short local walk I was ready to give my new method it’s first proper try. I don’t think it worked very well because this report has taken almost all week for me to write, but to the report:
Straight after the New Year I went to the Lake District for a couple of days' walking and I was fortunate to experience some lovely wintry weather, but also unfortunate to come down with a cold just before I went. The whole trip was a bit of a disappointment as I succeeded in completing only one of the four walks I'd planned. Ever since I have been itching to go back as soon as possible, but I was hampered by a knee that had started aching while on my way back from the Lake District (I have no idea what I had done to it). With my knee getting (slightly) better and the weather forecast for last weekend looking promising I decided it was now or never and I drove up first thing in the morning arriving in Borrowdale before 9 am. Right, let’s listen to that recording: "I'm in the Lake District again, a bit of snow was forecast and I thought, I’m off. But there’s not much snow really, just a thin covering; there was probably more at home when I left than there is here. It may get thicker further up. I’m climbing up beside Ashness Gill, and I’m in the Lake District, it’s fantastic!”
I parked just off the Borrowdale Road near Ashness Bridge and after stopping to take a few pictures of the bridge I proceeded up beside the stream. Next recording please, “Quite a bit of ice about, mainly on the footpath, but it’s not too difficult to avoid. I'll have to be careful when walking in snow, especially as I haven’t done much walking on this sort of terrain before, but this should be good practice for me.” “A bit of snow about, but it has passed to the north. I may have avoided the snow, but I have not avoided the Demon Path Builder. As Wainwright said, steps are for going up stairs, not for going up a mountain. This one is not too bad though, the steps are broken and uneven, they could almost be natural. Yeah, right!” Maybe writing every word I said wasn’t what I had in mind. Oh well, it's fun, what’s next? “These bogs are not as frozen as I would have liked. Out on the moorland now (the steps were short lived) where there is quite a bit of ice and snow, but my feet occasionally go straight through the ice. Ooh, there I go again! There are paths going all over the place, it’s difficult to know where to go from here. I seem to recall Wainwright suggesting visiting a number of cairns on the prominent tops ahead of me. Come on then, let’s visit them.”
It is becoming more and more difficult for me to make out what I’m saying as the wind noise is becoming quite strong. I climbed up to the cairn on top of Dodd and set a course across the moorland over those tops, but “Going up to those cairns was a bit of a struggle as I had to leave the path and wade through the heather.” Sorry I couldn’t catch the next bit as I was mumbling. I think I was saying that my knee which had been fine took exception to traipsing through the heather and had started hurting. Something about twisting, but “It’s not too bad now. I’m leaving the cairns behind, I don’t think there are any more. I am making a course straight for High Seat and the path is very clear. The advantage of the snow is it marks paths out very clearly. One additional thing, it’s started snowing.” Between this recording and the next I reached the top of High Seat, a place I had previously been to
back in Christmas ’06, but not by this route. In fact almost every step of this walk was along virgin ground (for me), which is quite an amazing thing to be able to say when you consider how much walking I’ve done in the Lake District.
“Walking between High Seat and High Tove is … like walking in England, like typical England … occasional bits blowing off into my face hurt … High Tove is not very big… This path is notoriously boggy, it’s not exactly nice. I’ll just follow this fence to High Tove.” On top of the Central Fells the wind was very strong and I can hardly make out what I am saying. I guess this method of recording has some inherent problems. I recall that I didn’t really enjoy the crossing to High Tove as it proved to be rather boggy and the ice wasn’t solid enough to not break when I trod on it. Plus, of course, because the ice was covered in snow I didn’t know I was treading on thin ice until my boot went through. When I went up High Seat just over
a year ago it was icy but there was no snow so I was able to avoid the ice. My comment about England is to say that this part of the Lake District is not really typical of the park, but is more typical of upland generally in England. I wasn’t too keen on this part of the walk.
The next recording is totally incomprehensible with the wind noise being too loud and I seem to be mumbling again, this time about bagging. After reaching the top of High Tove I continued south beside a fence for a while and then ventured out across the pathless heathland towards Armboth Fell, which is a Wainwright, but an insignificant one. This was the only reason I went across to it and after bagging the outcropped summit I walked all the way back to High Tove, which was all a waste of time, but I assure you I am not a bagger. The path I took back to High Tove seems to have interested me: “This path that I’m on, the initial bit down to the stream (Fisher Gill) seems quite good, and must be part of a path that follows the stream all the way down to the road. Soon after crossing the stream I branched out on a path that disappeared eventually, but directed me towards the footpath over High Tove… I am now on the route I originally planned to take on 2nd January. Golly.” I think this route fascinated me because it was completely different to the one Wainwright had suggested. His suggestion was to go west to the top of the ridge (such as it is) and follow the path there, which one would avoid the bog between Armboth Fell and High Tove, but of course most people just take the direct route and in fact it’s not very boggy.
I had originally planned
on 2nd January to walk from Wythburn over Armboth Fell and High Tove down to Watendlath, and in fact the whole rest of this walk follows that original plan exactly. “I am in Watendlath, and the descent from High Tove was excruciating. It was really painful on my knees; I understand now what people say about descents especially the manufactured path, on the steepest part, at the end. It was made even more difficult with the snow on the path, particularly with my knee. I’m now in Watendlath eating my lunch.” From Watendlath I headed out on a path I have thought about going on since
my first week in the Lakes, and that is the path to Dock Tarn. I wish I had taken it earlier because it is a wonderful path that is full of delights and leads to a complex wonderland that is a joy to explore. When I reached Dock Tarn snow was falling around me, but this failed to stop me from exploring the lake and climbing through the heather to get alternative vantage points of the secluded lake. Eventually I headed towards the summit trying to find a good route up while at the same time trying to work out which top was actually the summit.
“(Heavy wind noise) It’s a bit windy! I’m sitting on Great Crag, wonderful walk up here, but I’ve had a bit of a wander since, looking around Dock Tarn, seeing what things are like, then struggled up here. It’s quite a nice place actually, it’s really a nice place, complex you know. But it is a bit exhausting. I wonder if I’m putting my mouth too close to the microphone (no, that is why I can hear me now!). There are basically two tops, I’m not sure which one I want. I am on the southern one.” The southern top is the actual summit. This recording, although recorded in very strong winds on top of the summit of Great Crag was easier to understand because I had my mouth really close to the microphone while talking. It would appear I will have to make a point of doing that all the time in future as some of these recordings are totally incomprehensible because of the wind noise. I went across to the northern top and then made my own way down, “I climbed back down to the main path, through the heather. It’s a lot more fun making your own path rather than just following a prescribed one. I am now back on this path to Watenedlath, which is quite a good path as it skirts below the crags rather than going across the wetland, to avoid damage to it. Now I don’t want to go back to Watendlath, I want to go to Grange Fell. I could go straight across the wetland, but on my way up I noticed a path directing me towards Grange Fell that avoids the wetland. I think I’ll take that as it gives me an excuse to go on this rocky, rugged path again. It was snowing when I got to Great Crag, but it’s dying down again now. I suppose you could say the weather today has been quite poor, but I’ve loved it, it’s been fantastic.”
“One advantage of this route is that hardly any one has walked on it (since it snowed), I love the sound of walking through fresh snow.” Continuing along this rarely walked path I passed Puddinstone Bank (great name!) and crossed the busy Watendlath to Rosthwaite bridlepath climbing up to Grange Fell. There are many tops on Grange Fell and I was uncertain whether to try and go up every single one or just try and find the highest one, Brund Fell. After going up a couple of the nearby small tops I decided that I was wasting my time and headed towards the obvious summit (although Ether Knott was very tempting despite being a long way away in the wrong direction). Before I got to the summit I reached a top I couldn’t avoid climbing: “I have just climbed up and down a big column of rock, I think it was probably Jopplety How. It was quite exciting (heavy breathing). There are loads of rocky outcrops, I can’t possibly do every single one. Time is advancing so I need to climb up to Brund Fell and then across to King’s How.” My climb of Jopplety How was really quite scary because not only was it quite a scramble, it was slippery in the wet.
“There is a good path up (to Brund Fell) but there are three or four tops, which one is the summit? There are no cairns on any of them, so I’ll just go to the highest two, the clock is ticking.” “Right, that was the second one done, let’s get across to King’s How. The wind was so strong on the second top I was almost knocked over by a gust that came right out of nowhere. Anyway, I'm dropping down now and my knees are hurting again. I'm fine going up hill, but going down (grimaces). I assume this path will take me to King’s How, it looks quite a distance away, but that’s where I need to go so let’s try that.” “Right, that was King’s How. I don’t know whether I took the right route up. I climbed up a sort of gully (it was a rake and yes I took the right route), but it looked like only sheep went up it, at least judging by the snow prints in it. That was the last hill, all the way down to Grange now, ow, ow.” “That was tricky; there was a scrambly bit just there, a bit of rock to climb down that would have been fun in the dry. But not in the wet, it’s raining (the snow had started turning into rain as I descended Brund Fell), no it’s snowing again, or is it sleet. It’s been alternating between all three, things are warming up, I think. The ice is no longer ice, solid. The weather forecast was for it to get warm tonight, there won’t be much snow around tomorrow. This is supposed to be a delightful path, Wainwright described it as one of those walks you just have to do and I must admit it does look quite good, even though it's wet.”
“This is a delightful path, descending through woodland, unfortunately the Demon Path Builder has been at work. The path is full of stones and it's wet, and my knee hurts. This is a tricky descent, it is not easy and it looks very steep.” “I'm back down in the bottom of the valley and the bus was over half an hour away. The bus is at 5 past and the time was 25 past. I could have waited in the shelter, but I’ve not. It’s chucking it down with rain and I am walking to the car. Chances are highly likely that the bus will eventually turn up before I reach the car. Let’s just hope I don’t miss it and have to walk the whole way I think when I get to Lodore I’ll stop and wait for the bus. It’s been a good walk, but it’s ended a bit wet. Down here there’s no snow at all.”
I caught the bus back to the car at Lodore and drove into Keswick to stay in the youth hostel. Maybe my waterproofs were not very effective as most of my clothes were wet, or maybe it would have been best to stay in the shelter. Also the bus driver remarked that my waterproofs were rather dark, which made walking at night a little troublesome. If I do buy some new waterproofs maybe something a little more visible would be advisable. As I said this was a good walk, and despite the weather I really enjoyed it. I was able to complete the walk that I had planned to do
on 2nd January and in the process I went up five Wainwrights, which is not bad at all. But what about my new method of recording the report? Obviously repeating every word I recorded was silly, but it gave you an idea of how I'm going to record the walks in future. For the walk I did on Sunday I'll paraphrase what I said in the recordings which should make the reports closer in style to how they usually are.
My most memorable family walks are after I joined Ambassadors and I am sure that I started pushing for walks because of my enthusiasm for walking gained in Ambassadors. After leaving Ambassadors, and besides family holidays which I also eventually stopped going on, I don’t remember any more walks until I went to University. However I did not at that time take up walking seriously, and never joined a Walking Club at the Uni, which is a pity as if I had I would have probably started taking hill walking seriously a lot earlier than I did. The first walk I did while at Uni was in the February of my first year when I took a train to Edale in the nearby Peak District and, buying a pamphlet with details of eight walks around Edale, I started working my way through it. On that first visit to Edale I did the number one and two walks, which totalled just five miles and climbed up to Hollins Cross, which is less than 400 metres high. I wrote in my diary: “Despite being on my own I thoroughly enjoyed myself. It was wonderful.”
For example, last Saturday the weather was unseasonably warm and sunny so I went for a walk around the Hambleton peninsula at Rutland Water, the largest reservoir in Britain (an aerial photo that I pinched from the Internet is above that clearly shows the reservoir and the Hambleton Peninsula that I walked around). It was a nice walk, the weather was lovely, but was it worth writing about in this blog? Maybe not. But the aforementioned 
Hallin Fell was much better compared with the previous two fells that had been just grassy hills. This fell has lots of outcrops, is bracken covered and amazing views of Ullswater and up Martindale into the Far Eastern Fells. From the car park opposite the church I took a roundabout route to the top going round the eastern side of the fell where I enjoyed extensive views over Ullswater before climbing the steep rocky ground to the top where it was exceptionally windy. At the obelisk on the summit the wind was so strong that if I stepped out from behind it I was almost blown over. I was literally hanging on to the obelisk for dear life (okay, not literally, but I had great fun pretending that I was!). Trying to walk away from the obelisk into the wind was really difficult, so I had to lean into the wind by some way. It was weird looking down at the ground and seeing my feet a long way behind me!