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Bootprint Online - December 2005
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| Honorary President: | Dave Parkinson |
| Chairman: | Andy Hargreaves |
| Secretary: | Chris Markham |
| Treasurer: | Alison Shepherd |
| Meets Secretary: | Alan Wylie |
| Caving Secretary: | Ollie Aldridge |
| Bootprint Editor: | Stuart Clarke |
| Quartermaster: | Ian Parker |
| Librarian: | Phil Tootill |
| BMC Rep: | Phil Tootill |
| Social Secretary: | Jacqui Tootill |
Ian Parker will continue to coordinate the day meets programme
Glowing on Bleaklow
Last winter was generally another mild one – in keeping with modern trends, but a reasonably prolonged cold snap in late February gave some pleasant winter conditions for a few weeks and even allowed a bit of ski touring on our doorstep. Parking at Salters Brook Bridge (not enough snow to close the road unfortunately), we crossed the fence and stepped carefully into our skis.English virgin snow is a rarity and all the more enjoyable with a fresh overnight dusting on top of an older base. We made our way enthusiastically towards Lady Cross, gaining height steadily and anticipating what may lie ahead. From here we then followed fairly thin snow on the path to Round Hill, where the going became tougher as we tried to follow the best snow on our way just north of the watershed to Bleaklow. A few light showers passed over but did no more than give a sparkle to the air, the sun always returned and the views were both panoramic and distant. A truly splendid Alpine picnic just east of the summit plateau was had before heading up to Bleaklow Stones for a bit of rhime climbing.
We returned on a route just south of the watershed and were able to practise a few turns as we passed a lovely snow field somewhere near Grinah stones. Dropping height to follow the snow it became increasing soft and difficult to ski, eventually leading to a number of falls and spells of walking/stumbling. Chris unfortunately broke his ski pole at this point (near Fair Banks) and opted to walk north to the A628, rather than try to ski as much as possible via Lady Cross. At Dean Head Stones the slope was sufficiently severe for Jim to get out his skins and skin up, leaving Anne and I to waddle like fat ducks. It was quite a relief to get back on the watershed and enjoy a bit of gliding as we descended northward to the road. We all met up at the cars at about the same time having enjoyed a rare and beautiful day out on the north Derwent watershed. - JK, AM, CM, IP, Feb 2005
At the time of writing this things are looking promising for a good winter. Many of us have one or more ski holidays to look forward to and what better than a day out on the hills before you go.
Meet Report - Little Langdale
9-11th September 2005
Present: Stuart, Janet, Steve, Andy H, Alison, Mick, Phil, Anne & Jim, Martin S, Dave P, Andy W, Kay, Ian, Gilly, Bridget
Gilly, Alison, Andy H – Langdale Skyline (bit like last year – boring! But the other way round) Lingmell fell, Pike o’Blisco, Crinkle, Bowfell, Rossett Crag, Stake Pass, Pike o’Stickle, Harrison Stickle, Pavey Ark, Sergeant Man. Down to Chapel Stile, met the Weatherlam/Wrynose team just leaving Wainwright’s. Phil turned up at the same time. Lovely day for what was forecast as raining – which apparently it has been – all day – in Huddersfield.
Dave P, Bridget, Anne, Jim, Ian, Stuart Bridget at the helm leading a crew of seasoned volunteers into a round of Little Langdale. From the hut we were led out over the river and through the trees to Tilberthwaite, where the route taken was hijacked by Dave – taking us above the Gill rather than next to it. The views were lovely and compared to the doom and gloom forecast, out of this world. Wetherlam stood proud above us, watching our every move as we followed the path up to Birk Fell Man and Wetherlam Edge. The wind was truly lost as we sweated steadily up, taking some warm pauses to enjoy the air and scenery. Some rocks invited a spot of scrambling but on closer inspection they had more slime than a shoal of slugs celebrating a lettuce harvest. On Swirl How we met Janet and had lunch. The sun was warm though a breeze from the S.E. got up and chilled us out a little. Passing the Halifax Bomber remains on Great Carrs we got split (Jim and Ian missing the turn off) up before reuniting on the Wrynose Pass. Heading north to Red Tarn, views opened up and the sky above turned increasingly blue again. It was hard to leave the summit of Pike of Blisco, but thoughts of Tea and Ice Cream pulled us towards Chapel Stile. We were too late for the Café so dived in the Pub. Just as we were leaving Gilly, Andy and Alison turned up from one direction and Phil turned up from the other (with his new fell shoes). Leaving them to their beer we headed back to the hut for showers and snap.
Ian 10-9-05
The volunteers were only “willing” because they have walked the area so often, the only challenge they could see today was me having a go at map reading and occasional compass work! Anarchy hardly ever occurred – no more than 10 times during the walk. A ‘peach’ of a day! and thanks to all! – Bridget
Janet, Saturday.
Out of the hut at 8:30 am, walk up to Greenburn Mines for 2nd breakfast. “Interesting” river crossing and a traverse around the contour to the Wet side edge ridge. At this stage I did not think I would get much further – step 1,2,3,…12 and stop get breath back and repeat. If you do it enough finally you get going. I guess it was the breakfast kicking in. Once the ridge was attained I made steady (not fast) progress to Great Carr.
On Great Carr I saw my first person since leaving the hut, a retired guy who thought he was heading for the Old Man . . . not quite right. He was a nice old guy so we looked at the map and he worked out he had done it without knowing. We walked up to Swirl How together chatting away … mostly about how easy it was to go wrong on this bit of fell side. On arriving at Swirl How I met up with Jim who was there and then most of the others in Bridget’s party.
I decided it was time to have lunch – spaghetti worms and cold steamed veg – better than it sounds but it looked foul. I continued onto the Old Man, a bit cloudy but still nice. I needed some paprika for dinner so descended to Coniston Village co-op. The walk from Coniston thru Tilberthwaite to Little Langdale was as much as I could manage so a cup of tea and a sit down were well due at the hut. Post dinner the usual pub evening proved a satisfying end to an excellent day.
Janet, Friday
(yes I know it should be before Saturday) I have the good fortune to not work most Fridays so set off in the morning, bike on the back of the landrover. My first destination was Longsleddale off the A6 north of Kendal. I parked half way up the road, in persistent drizzle, at the Parish Church. I duly paid the honesty box wondering how many people would have if, like me, they were the only folk around.
My aim was to practice changing gear and cycling on hills, something I have never got to grips with. I managed to get to the roadhead at Sodgill without pushing. I took one look at the old track which connects Longsleddle and Mardale but it was deep loose stones, a surface I have yet to master. I cycled past my parking place, back down to Garnett bridge and then back again. The rain subsided so I was able to eat lunch at one of the picnic tables supplied by Longsleddle Parish. As it was only 2pm I was able to call into Ambleside to check out the shopping – managing to locate “Trespass” fleece leggings which I have been on the lookout for.
Janet, Sunday:
The rigours of Saturday manifested themselves as a stiff back and sore soles to my feet (I had been breaking in new boots yesterday). I decided it would be kinder on the feet if I cycled today. Now I have cycled round here before and thought I had chosen the same route but either I was in better shape and 10 times bolder or I was on a different circuit or my memory is playing tricks. The net result today was that I took my bike for a long push. The uphills on road were too steep, ditto the downhills which had me squeezing the brakes with white knuckles. The off road bits were generaly beyond my ability seeing me drop the bike several times. I’ve done something to the gear change mechanism which left me using only the rear gears to avoid shedding the chain when using the front ones. Turned around sooner than intended and walked my bike back, getting on it for flat smooth sections only – oh and puddles – I’m not so scared if there is water to land in! Mind I still chickened out at the ford.
Stuart:
On Saturday I was with Bridget’s team until we reached the road below Side Pike where I scorned Tea and Ice Cream and headed up onto Lingmoor Fell. It was a perfect warm still early Autumn evening, made all the better by ringing home and learning that it had been raining all day in Huddersfield! I sat on the top and noticed how the mine workings went all the way up the hill beyond the hut…
Sunday, I set off to explore those workings. It was like being in some ancient, long abandoned, fortified city, the illusion only spoiled by the racket of trail bikes below. From the top I dropped down to the head of Tilberthwite gill then over to the Coppermines valley, contoured round Wetherlam and descended into the Greenburn Valley with time for a refreshing dip in the Beck before arriving back at the hut at the same time as Phil, who had given his new shoes a work out, and Dave and Bridget who had been over to Pavey Ark and back.
There was also climbing on the Sunday. Andy and Alison (and Ian?) went to Gimmer and did Ash Tree Slabs and Lyons’s Crawl.
Anne:
Jim and I, Steve, Mick, Martin, Andy and Kay went to Long Scar - Jim and I stayed there and did 4 routes, the others moved on quite quickly (the Long Scar routes being a bit limiting for them) to Black Crag. Lovely afternoon in the sunshine
Stuart:
I stayed on in the hut on Sunday night and came across the following quote, by Katherine Chorley, in one of the Fell and Rock Climbing Club journals that were on the shelf, ‘When I was in my twenties I had two special ambitions. The one was to learn to write English prose, the other was to become a good mountaineer. The two, you will observe, fit quite neatly together’. I am sure we would all second that sentiment!
The next day I hiked up to a secluded tarn and camped, meeting on the way two distressed Irish ladies who had gone out for a stroll and kept on going, hoping that the top was just over the next rise. One was quite exhausted and the other, her niece, was panicking and wondering if she should call out the mountain rescue. I calmed them down and sent them back the way they had come.
That evening I saw a singular thing. I looked out over my tarn, which was well above the tree line, and saw something swimming across the lake towards me. It disappeared beneath the bank and, intrigued, I went down to see what it was, thinking that, perhaps, it was an otter. In fact it was a squirrel. Now there’s a thing!
Diary of a Hebridean Holiday (May 2005)
Back in the Spring I realised that I had a week off work at the end of May but, having dislocated/fractured my shoulder skiing in February, I knew I wasn’t going to be up to either backpacking or rock climbing. So, having enjoyed completing the Cheshire Cycleway a few years ago and the northern loop of the Lancashire Cycleway last year, Andy & I decided it would be good to get the bikes out and go exploring new ground. Never having ventured to the Western Isles before, and realising that the roads were never more than about 100m above sea level (so the hills couldn’t be that bad!), it seemed a good place to go. The plan was to take camping gear and pre-book a few nights B&B (for guaranteed hot showers!) and cover the miles at a leisurely place with time to explore. The original idea was to get the ferry from Oban to Castlebay on Barra and cycle northwards to Stornoway on Lewis (with the prevailing wind behind us) for a ferry back to Ullapool. However, after much studying of maps and timetables, it proved impossible to do such a one way cycle trip in the space of a week, so we settled for the following circuit of the southern islands.Saturday
Things got off to a good start, being away from Meltham soon after 6am meant an early breakfast at Tesco Carlisle, the weather deteriorated as we headed north and it was very wet by the time arrived in Oban. We took the last space in the free long stay car park, assembled our bikes, loaded panniers in pouring rain and set off for 3.40pm ferry in full waterproofs. The five hour crossing passed uneventfully, save for the shout of ‘minky whale’ which had everyone in the upper lounge on their feet and at the window instantly. By time we disembarked at Castlebay on Barra, the rain had stopped so, knowing that no hostel or B&B places were available, we pedalled away from Castlebay to camp in the dunes.
Sunday
We awoke to find that the wind had dropped a little and the skies were brighter than the previous day, so we packed up and headed back to Castlebay for breakfast. However, despite the guide book recommendations of the Gallery Café for breakfast, it was shut on Sundays (as was the Hebridean Toffee factory shop!) and nowhere else looked very open, so we had to start on the cereal bars. Then off to explore the island of Vatersay, linked to the south of Barra by a causeway which was built in 1990 after a prize bull named Bernie was swept away and drowned on the way to market. On Vatersay we had our first views of sweeping white sandy beaches and crystal clear sea.
Next back to Castlebay for soup and a sandwich in the Castlebay Hotel, before our ascent of the island’s highest point, Heaval (383m). We cycled to the top of the pass at 100m – well, I nearly made it but ran out of gears and as I was being chased by a coach full of tourists up the single track road, I gave up and walked the last few hundred yards! We then changed to off-road shoes and headed for the summit for wonderful views of Kisimul Castle and a panorama of islands and bays.
The tide was in, so it wasn’t worth heading for the airstrip (the beach!) to watch the planes landing. Now it was time to leave Barra and head north, so we caught the afternoon ferry for the 45 minute crossing to Eriskay and a welcome pot of tea at the Am Politician (named after the ship that foundered during the war with a cargo including whisky, this event being the subject of the film ‘Whisky Galore’). Then on across the causeway to South Uist, into the wind, to find our first B&B. We arrived to find an empty house, door unlocked and a welcoming note in the window telling us which was our room. Nice shower and then off to the pub for tea, where I tried the local charcoal smoked salmon, which was excellent!
Monday
The day dawned fine so after a good B&B cooked breakfast we set off in T-shirts, we were still cycling north into the wind so soon stopped to put on pertex tops and it wasn’t long before rain clouds approached and we had to stop again to don full waterproofs, just in time! We stopped to drip and dry out a bit at The Isle of Benbecula House Hotel over soup and a pint of draught hebridean ale. After the rain, wild camping on Grimsay lost its appeal so we headed for a hostel at Balivanich, on the north coast of Benbecula. We had the place to ourselves, so stocked up at the Spar and settled down for a cosy evening. Not the most scenic of places due to a large military presence but it served its purpose.
Tuesday
The day dawned clear so northwards again towards North Uist, still into the wind but at least it was dry. We had a very pleasant cycle round Grimsay, joined by causeways to Benbecula and North Uist and a look round the harbour where the local fishing fleet is based. Once on North Uist, the Carinish Inn provided a suitable place for a soup lunch, then we headed further north. A quick assessment as we passed the pub on the way to our pre-booked B&B gave us no confidence that we’d be able to get an evening meal there, so we stocked up at the village shop and headed on to explore the Balranald RSPB Nature Reserve in the far north west of the island. There was a long list of wildlife spotted recently in the information centre, however we failed to catch a glimpse of the minky whales, porpoises and otters. We saw plenty of Oystercatchers and Terns but failed to identify the many other birds! The walk out to the coast, round the headland and back through the machair was very pleasant and made a nice change from sitting on a saddle! It was still windy, so we cooked our tea on the lee side of the visitor centre before heading to our B&B for a shower, glass of wine and a comfy bed.
Wednesday
Woke to find it very wet outside. Our B&B hostess, a district nurse, left for work leaving us watching the rain through the window! Eventually we could delay our departure no longer, so dressed in full waterproofs, including improvised overmitts (carrier bags!), we set off into the wind and rain. We abandoned our idea of a day trip to Harris and picked the shortest route to the hostel at the North Uist Outdoor Centre in Lochmaddy. We stopped en route to drip in the Hebridean Smoke House whilst tasting the peat smoked salmon. Having taken as long as we could over the tasting whilst sheltering from the rain, we felt obliged to buy some salmon and oatcakes for lunch! Another stop was called for at the Langass Lodge, where we warmed ourselves over a very expensive tomato soup lunch, washed down with a pint or two of draught hebridean ale. Then on to the hostel and the Lochmaddy hotel for tea.
Thursday
Thursday dawned even wetter, if that was possible! Andy very nobly volunteered to venture to the village shop in the rain to buy sausage & beans for breakfast. The leftovers made very nice sausage butties for lunch, which we ate sheltering in a bus stop on our journey south. Near disaster at the village shop when we stopped for more supplies, Andy carefully put his carrier bag overmitts on the floor and they were binned by the assistant who thought they were rubbish – they were extracted from the bin for him when we realised what had happened! Why was it that for the first half of the week we had been cycling north into the wind and now we were heading back south, we were still cycling into the wind. We had just over 30 miles to cycle today from North Uist, across Benbecula and onto South Uist, all into the wind and rain – lovely! We found another smoked salmon shop on South Uist where we stopped to taste (and then buy!) their delicious smoked salmon (oak, rather than peat, smoked this time) before heading on to the Orisay Inn. At 5pm it was too early for dinner, so we had a large pot of tea whilst our waterproofs dripped on the radiators! Eventually, by 7pm they were serving evening meals and we were advised to order early as they had been turning telephone bookings down. I can well recommend this Inn, lots of fresh seafood on the specials board – we certainly enjoyed the monkfish and scallops. After an excellent meal, we had to put our waterproofs back on for the last five miles to our next B&B. After we’d dripped all over her hall floor, the lovely lady at the B&B took away all our wet gear to dry overnight and after a shower and dry clothes, we shared a wee dram with her & her other guests to celebrate her birthday.
Friday
South into the wind again, but only drizzling today, just 3 miles to the youth hostel at Howmore – an old black house. The highest point of the island had been our original aim for the day but as the tops were in the clouds we opted for a walk along the coast to Kildonan. As we walked along the coast the weather improved and we regretted not heading for the tops but at least walking made a change from cycling. After tea and cakes in the café, we caught the bus back up the road to the hostel – highly subsidised fares on the islands meant it was only 70p for the 6 mile ride. Spent a very pleasant evening in the hostel, which turned out to be full. There is no resident warden and they don’t take bookings, the warden turns up sometime during the evening to collect the fees and it’s rare that they turn anyone away, especially as there is space to camp.
Saturday.
Weather better today. With an afternoon ferry to catch from Lochboisdale, about 13 miles away, we set off south again. As we had plenty of time, we changed into off-road shoes and I set off after Andy up Beinn Ruigh Choinnich above Lochboisdale. A very pleasant outing in improved weather, with lovely views across the bay towards Barra and Vatersay, where we had been at the start of the week. After an excellent roast lunch, we boarded the ferry back to Oban, where bunks in the youth hostel awaited us. After a fish & chip supper, we headed for a shower and bed. I had an excellent night’s sleep in a female dorm for six but Andy had to share with some rather loud, drunken Scottish youths.
Sunday
At the pre-agreed time of 8am, I met Andy in the dining room ready to set off for the car at the other side of Oban to find that he’d had such a disturbed night, that he’d been up for hours and had already fetched the car, so it was simply a matter of loading up and having breakfast before driving south again.
All in all, an excellent first trip to the Western Isles. I would love to go back in better conditions – drier and without a headwind. We found out later that Dave and the two Johns, who’d been on the mainland for a planned week, had aborted on the Wednesday and returned home, as the weather was so bad. Bikes were an ideal way of getting around as it is very expensive to take cars over on the ferry and there aren’t many roads on the islands anyway. Public transport is cheap, as it is heavily subsidised, but it didn’t appear to be very frequent. The roads aren’t quite flat, but at least the hills aren’t very big! We cycled some 168 miles over the week and would have done more had the weather not been so inclement. It was not as cheap a holiday as it could have been as the weather put us off camping. We had pre-booked alternate nights B&B, but apart from camping the first night we chose to stay at hostels rather than camping wild in the rain!
Alison Shepherd
Meet Report: Wain House, Llanthony Priory,
Vale of Ewyas. 14th - 16th October 2005
Present: Alan Wyllie, Andy Hargreaves, Andy Armitage, Chris Markham, Janet Packwood & Ollie Aldridge.
Saturday: Alan, Andy, Andy, Chris.
There is a pub in the remains of the XIth century priory. It is only a few yards from the bunk house. We met there on Friday night. We drank many pints of Bass. Then we came back to the bunkhouse. We drank most of a bottle of 12 year old single malt. On Saturday morning no-one got up early. Some people had hangovers. There was much faffing. At last we left the bunkhouse at 10:00. We opened a gate for some trekkers on ponies. We climbed up a steep hill into the clag. We joined the Offas Dyke path along the ridge. There were piles of stones and a trig point or two. After many kilometres the path forked, and we took the left hand branch down towards the col where the road crosses. The clag started to clear, and we had some potentially good, if still rather restricted, views out in the direction of Hay-on-Wye. At the road Chris decided to take the direct route back to the bunkhouse, but managed to hitch a lift. The remaining three mounted Lord Hereford’s Knob, then on to pt 713, another trig point, where the party split again. Alan and Andy A took a shorter route back to the hut, whilst Andy H took a further ridge to bag a couple of 800m peaks – Waun Fach and Pen y Gadair Fawr. The ridge that the former pair took went on for miles and miles, with plentiful peat bogs, talkative 55 year old Welsh farmers on quad bikes and another trig point. The weather improved as we reached the descent path down into the valley, and the path down Cwm Bwchell was very pleasant, with the vegetation assuming its autumn tints, and an impressive crop of fly agaric.
Saturday, Janet & Ollie
Setting off from the priory, steeply up through fields, sporting a brace of hangovers, it was a slow start. The view was inspected from a dozen places before hitting open fell side. There were a few groups of people about – mostly overtaking us. The clag was down, a mercy for me as I was hot and sweaty within minutes of setting off. It has been an extended summer this year, with so many warm sunny days, so here we are in the middle of October in shirt sleeves.
As the fog inside my head cleared, the mist shrouding the view still clung on, with just occasional glimpses of watery sunlight. The hillside was dotted with some interesting fungi in a rainbow of colours from small sinister black ones to tomato red ones and saffron yellow, what with the mist and the priory ruins it all looked quite mystic, fitting for Wales I guess.
Ollie was having knee problems, so dictated the pace, as we continued to the Offas Dyke ridge/path. We celebrated reaching the ridge with a cup of tea (and in Ollie’s case some pain killers) then continued by turning North to a nameless trig point. Further along the ridge we picked up the path down to Capel-y-ffin. We had been warned it was slippy by several people and boy was it slippy. The mud on this bit of fell forms a greasy coating over even seemingly dry bits. Any grass that does grow has the smallest of toe holds. We both got down without too much drama but were glad of the warnings.
The return along the valley was uneventful save for Ollie struggling with painful joints to his knees. Back at the hut Ollie slept in a pain induced slumber for a couple of hours, prior to dinner and pub. – Janet
Sunday, Janet & Andy H.
We had elected to try pony trekking as we were staying at a trekking centre. So the day started at around 10am in the yard bordering the hut. 20 or so placid looking horses dozing in 2 lines along a big barn greeted us. All the hard work had been done for us, they were tacked-up and ready to go.
Form filling and hat fitting done the punters were organized into ‘trekkers’ (novices like us) and ‘hackers’ (capable of riding). There were 5 of us in the trek party of which I was the “nervous beginner” – it having been 20 years since I had been in the saddle and I did not stay in long back in those days.
Andy was quickly allocated a big grey called ‘Blue’ and after a bit of list checking by the staff I was introduced to ‘Fortune’ a sweet natured grey mare. After mounting with a step we were given brief instructions and off we went. Following the brief trial trot on the road I started to feel more relaxed. I had sort of expected a ride through a few fields or along a river so I had a surprise when we started up a path onto the ridge to the west of the priory. I really felt bad about Fortune having to carry me up a fairly steep fellside, she had to stop and rest every 50 metres or so. It quite reminded me of Ollie and I the day before on the eastern side of the valley. But up we went and the view from the ridge was well worth it. The sun was out and the view clear with yesterday’s walk all in view. A bit more trotting once we were on the flat and then slowly down a wet, rocky, slippery path brought us back to the road. By this time my legs were dead, my knees seized and my feet numb.
When we got back to the yard I had to be helped off as my legs did not work for about 5 minutes. All in all a good alternative activity which I am glad I took the opportunity to try. - Janet
Vibram Health Warning! – This part of Wales has the most awful, flat and uninspiring beer in the whole of the galaxy. Take your own, it was truly disgusting. – Ollie
Sunday
After waiting around until 10:00, set off by myself and walked down the track along the side of the valley. Eventually forced my way up through overgrown forestry on a path that hadn’t been used in years (I had to smash my way through a fallen tree across the path) and up onto the ridge. I followed it to the large pile of stones at which we left the ridge yesterday, followed the same path for a couple of hundred yards , then followed a diagonal path back into the valley rather than the steeper one down Cwm-bwchel that we used the previous day. Back for 2 o’clock and then back up the M5.
WARNING The representation of a path, track or right of way on a map of this area probably has no existence in reality, or vice-versa. - Alan
Chew Valley Climbing
Ian, Anne, Jim – 23rd July – Club Day Meet
Standing out as the longest route on the crag and only graded VD, Tower Ridge was a climb that fully deserved our
immediate attention. I took the honour of the first lead; an “introductory block” delivered a brief warm-up before
an airy crossing of “the cellar” led to a tricky crack rising up the wall behind to a platform above. Time for a quick
breather here before continuing up with holds fading into sloping wrinkles of stretched rhino hide. This got quite
balancy (read scary) before the top edge of the rock was within reach and a continuation of life assured – for the
time being at least. Jim took the lead for the 2nd pitch, following a set of cracks and holds in the steep face above
to top out nicely on the edge of Dove Stone Moss. A nice climb, lots of variety condensed into a small vertical space.
After a lunch plagued by midges, we moved across to climb Central Tower (in keeping with the “Tower” theme). Anne seconded while Jim set off to lead the route. Fortunately this turned out to be a much easier climb, with more sweat being generated through my efforts to keep the midges off Anne than from the climbing itself. In the pleasant gentle (and midge-free) breeze on top, we plotted plan B – climb in the wind, not in the shelter. Robinsons Rocks one mile to the south shouted out to us and we had a nice walk across dry peat to get there. This is a much smaller crag but with caving opportunities……
Our chosen route, YLNOSD RIB, climbs deep into the recesses of a buttress before traversing out (no room for helmets!) into daylight at a higher level. Once your eyes have adjusted you suddenly get a blast of exposure as you contort your body into a more normal upright position. Leaving the comfort of the shelf behind more delicate moves are made (no jugs here) until normality is again reached at the top. All that needs doing now is to crack the anagram.
Footnote: Dovestones Edge has loads of easy climbs and was pretty quiet on a July Saturday. Alderman Rocks look good too while for harder climbers Wimberry Rocks stand out (literally).
Sikkim – The Treks I Didn’t Do
I was sitting outside the Yak Restaurant in Yoksum, eating my breakfast toast, watched by a black dog with only one ear. High in front of me the summit of Kanchendzonga shone in the morning sun. At 8586 metres it is the third highest peak in the world. Below it a receding series of steep wooded ridges marked the valley of the Rathong Chu and the route of the Dzongri trek.I had not meant to come to Sikkim, the original plan being to travel leisurely from Puri to Bodhgaya along the back roads and small towns of Bihar. But the more I read about the bandits and naxalites, the less time I wanted to spend in that state. So I took a night train to Gaya and then shared a motor rickshaw to Bodhgaya with an immensely tall Swedish man named Gustav who had left his wife at an ashram at Dharamsala while he travelled around India.
Bodhgaya is where the Buddha attained enlightenment, sitting under the Bodhi tree. It is now the pre-eminent pilgrim site for Buddhists and I planned to stay there until I too reached a state of enlightenment. Gustav had phoned ahead and booked into the Welcome Inn, but they had no more rooms so I went next door to the Om Guesthouse and got a simple but clean room for about £2.50 a night.
The original Bodhi tree was destroyed by King Ashoka before his conversion to Buddhism, but a cutting had been taken by his daughter to Sri Lanka where it flourished at Anuradhapura. A sapling from that tree was taken in turn and planted back at Bodhgaya. The seventh century temple of Mahabodhi is built in front of the tree and surrounded by beautiful gardens filled with pilgrims performing acts of devotion. Outside the temple gates are souvenir stalls and beggars – a line of ancient widows, hands outstretched, and crippled children crawling and scurrying over the paving stones like giant insects. All obviously suffering as a result of bad karma in their previous lives.
I spent the next few days visiting the many temples built by Buddhist sects from around the world, walking around the grounds of the Mahabodhi temple and studying and meditating in my room. There were a couple of good bookshops in the village so there was plenty of reading matter to be had in addition to what I had brought myself.
On the fifth evening, while walking around the outer circuit, I saw bats flying in Orion, picked out by the floodlights. The new moon was a silver bowl hanging above the Bodhi tree. A monk lifted a beetle to safety, away from the pilgrims’ feet. At the corner, dark leprous hands thrust though the railings. Voices murmured, pleading for rebirth in the sky.
Suddenly it all became clear and I returned to my room. I saw that the four noble truths were: all religion is ignorant superstition, happiness is being among mountains, and an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Next day I took the night train to New Jalpaiguri and then a bus from Siliguri up into the hills to Gangtok.
From Siliguri you travel for about 10 kilometers along the plain, crossing the tracks of the “toy train” that runs up to Darjeeling. Then wooded hills rear up dramatically. You can almost feel the tectonic plates clashing. The road climbs steeply in sharp bends above the river Teesta , family groups of monkeys sit at the side of the road waiting for nuts and cheese sandwiches to be thrown to them from passing cars. At Rangpo non-Indian nationals have to show their permits and sign in. Then off we go again and reach Gangtok after four and a half hours drive.
Sikkim is not like the India below. It is relatively clean (Gangtok even has a no spitting zone) and there are no festering heaps of rubbish at the side of the street. There are no cows and pigs wandering about and, best of all, there is no man urinating on every street corner. It is also less oriented towards tourists than Nepal where, if people smile at you, you know they want your money and where, in Kathmandu, they even charge you to walk down the street.
Sikkim became a protectorate of India after independence in 1947, and a fully fledged state in 1975. It snuggles between Nepal, Tibet and Bhutan, high mountains on three sides. The capital, Gangtok, is spread along a steep ridge at 1870 metres. From the balcony of my hotel there was a fine view of Khangchendzonga and its satellite peaks.
It was distinctly chilly after the plains so I spent a day looking around the shops and bought a warm Chinese duvet jacket with a hood and a pair of hand knitted Tibetan gloves. Visiting the tourist office I discovered that there was a festival in a couple of days at Tashiding, about five hours drive to the West, so next day I booked on the one o’clock jeep and set off.
On the top of a tall conical hill above the village is a beautiful temple. It belongs to the Nyingmapa order of Tibetan Buddhism. On the first full moon of the Tibetan New year the Bumchu festival is celebrated there. Within the temple there is a jar holding holy water and once a year it is opened. If it is empty it signifies famine. If it is full then there will be bloodshed and disturbances. If half full (or half empty), peace and prosperity will reign! Pilgrims come from all over Sikkim and beyond to hear the omens for the coming year and to be blessed with the holy water, after which the jar is refilled and sealed until next time.
I walked up the hill in the evening, past temporary restaurants and stalls selling religious trinkets The temple precincts were already busy with pilgrims swirling their prayer wheels or lighting butter lamps in front of auspicious chortens. I walked around taking in the atmosphere, then lay on the ground and watched the clouds passing over the moon above the pines.
At one thirty in the morning there were sounds from within the main temple and an expectant queue began to form at the side door. Before long it was six deep and about a quarter of a mile long. Eventually, after another hour or so there was the sound of drums and trumpets and the door was opened. A burly monk acted as a bouncer and the pilgrims started to file through, one at a time, emerging on the other side, many with some of the water in a bottle or a jam jar.
It seemed to me a bit of a swizz, and that the monks had kept the pilgrims waiting so long simply to demonstrate their power. But who am I to say? The next morning I got talking to an Australian at breakfast. I told him about the previous night’s festivities, trying to describe what I didn’t really understand. I asked him if he had ever been to Lourdes, seeking an analogy. ‘No’ he said, ‘but I did once see Australia play England at Moore Park in Sydney!’
There are a number of trekking possibilities in the country, although it is difficult to trek independently. In Gangtok there are agencies through which you can arrange to join a group for something like $30 per day. In the West of the country the main trek is the eight or nine day Dzongri trek from Yoksam to Goecha La (4942m) which overlooks the foot of Kanchenjunga.
You can also trek the Singalila Ridge which separates Sikkim from Nepal starting at Uttarey and finishing at Dzongri. Trekking in North Sikkim is less accessible and permits need to be arranged at least six months in advance from the Sikkim Tourist Office in New Delhi, although trekking outfits in Gangtok can do this for you. Unfortunately I did not have the time and was not sufficiently well organized to do any of these treks. Perhaps next year.
From Yuksom I went to Pelling, a growing honymoon resort with stunning views of the mountains. Or so they tell me for the weather was bad and I saw nothing. Then I took a jeep back to Siliguri. I had to sit at the back of the jeep where there are two seats facing each other. The first section is very steep and winding and having to sit sideways on I felt a bit sick. By twisting round to face forward it was not so bad, but then the man opposite me started puking out of the window and that set off his neighbour too!
At about half way we picked up a man with two big sacks which went on the roof and he stood on the spare tire holding on to the roof rack. After about half an hour he couldn’t hold on any longer and came in the back, sitting on the man who had been throwing up, which set him off again. Luckily all the vomit went out of the window and onto the poor monkeys at the side of the road.
When we arrived I went and sat quietly in the shade for ten minutes to recover. Then I rode in a nice slow peaceful bicycle rickshaw down through the bazaar to the station at NJP and took the night train back to the chaos of Kolkata.
Stuart Clarke
Kookery Korner
Gouffre Berger Noodles
A dish designed for a high calorie to weight ratio, with robust ingredients. It must be able to survive 600 metres of decent, a couple of mile of caving and being able to be dropped down 15 pitchs in a tackle sack.Also has to be all cooked in one pan with an alpine stove.
Ingredients
1 large handful of cashew nuts
1 tablespoon of dried onions
1 tablespoon of porcino dried mushrooms
1 packet of “el cheapo” mushroom flavoured noodles
Half a pint of sump water (or similar) – make sure upstream safe first!
All dry ingredients pre weighed
Method
Reconstruct your whispalite alpine stove from the extremely small pan you have carried it down 2 miles of cave passage in. This dish must be cooked quite quickly due to the small size of the smallest possible gas canister you can find.
Place cashew nuts in pan, add heat and toast until slightly brown (about the same time as it takes to warm your hands after 6 hours of caving) Add sump water and all dry ingredients, bring to the boil, turn off the heat and add dubious contents of the sachet. Stir well and wait until cool enough to eat –approximately 1 minute.
Save washing up until later unless intending to spend next 56 hours down the cave in which case repeat at regular intervals until gas runs out.
Ollie.
Meet Report: Dunmail Raise,
November 4th to 6th 2005
Present: Andy Hargreaves & Alison Shepherd & Claire & Simon, Stuart Clarke & Sarah Tuffs & Abby & Sarah Stewart,
John Leather & Joanna & Kate & Tom, Dave Wray & Mathew & Emma, Jenifer Callard & Emma, Gilly Markham & Adam & Tom,
Martin Wright & Charlotte, Nick Evans, Verrian, Dave Parkinson, John Turner, John ‘Rigor’ Mortimor, John Gaugroger &
Linda, Steve Simpson, Jim Kidd, Phil & Jacqui Tootill, Alison Savage & Liam & Daisy.
At first we thought that this would be a poorly attended meet and would make a big loss as Now or Never were playing a gig to which quite a few members were going. In the end we made it a Family Firework Meet and it was a great success. Andy and I bought well over £200 worth of fireworks for £70 from the Black Cat factory shop and these provided a grand show on the Saturday night. The weather was very wet for much of the weekend but cleared for the evening’s display. The childer seemed to have a good time without annoying anybody too much, and all in all it was an excellent meet.
Saturday:
Sarah, Stuart, Abby & Sara - faffed around so much that by the time we were ready to set off it had started to rain heavily; so we went shopping instead. I bought a fascinating book on the history of Christianity from the Oxfam shop in Ambleside and we also got some sheep droppings for John Leather’s birthday. Then we all went back to the hut and snoozed in front of the fire for an hour or two. About 4 the weather perked up so Sarah and I wizzed up to Grisedale Tarn, the beck very dramatic in spate, and back again in the dark. – Stuart
Saturday night:
Happy Birthday to me! 29 years old again, lovely walk in the sunshine, never had a drier day in the Lakes. John.
John G. – up early (with need to help guest Linda – recovering from a cough, that turned into an extraordinary snore, and decampment to small common room just before dawn, and) tempted out by break in wet weather – c 07:00 – struck out across stream to west and up to summit of Seat Sandal. Fine sunrise and great views in all directions. Steep ascent and descent hugely assisted by a Leki pole. Clouding over from about 8.30, and then damp mist, turning to rain by return just after 0930 as others just departing. Later – with Linda – drove down to Grasmere – wander round, hot soup and beer & a road walk in pouring rain (& 2 umbrellas) before retracing route by car & up and over to Langdale & return via Ambleside.
Great firework display from 8pm (Linda’s ‘extras’: sparklers (& others) popular with all especially the kids)
Martin + Charlotte (age 5 years). Sat – to Ambleside & Windermere in search of a shop in which to buy a towel & a car parking space in which to park while purchasing. Thence a very wet daunder along the river between Grasmere and Rydal Water, followed by a picnic in the car. Finally a retreat to the hut for naps, DVDs, food + fireworks.
Saturday – Sarah S and Abby:
I have only been on 2 meets with this group but this was the best, the fireworks on Saturday were wicked they were sooo bright then afterwards we toasted marsh mallows by the fire including whisky covered ones. After the kids had gone to bed and the adults getting drunk they tried to follow a tradition that Steve started last time they were here [climbing into a high niche by the side of the fire, ed.]. John Mortimer tried and failed, (by a leg), then birthday boy John Leather tried and was the first to succeed, followed by Jim and Claire who succeeded then very very drunk Nick attempted and after many attempts he finally got in. – Sarah S
A MORNING AND A HALF ORIENTEERING
Clear air, sharp horizons, chill breeze and wall-to-wall sunshine greeted the Vibram Orienteers as we paid our fees and walked to the start. One by one we set off to the call of the clock, some running, some walking. Last in the VMC queue and eager to get going, I was shocked to discover the distance of my first leg – 1.5km as (this being Marsden Moor) the grouse flies. I chose to run the longer but hopefully easier path taking me up and along 2 sides of a triangle to a trig point, where an easy 300m run due north led to the first check point (No.57 - Boulder north side). A short and pleasant run gently downhill on a bearing led to the second control (No.58 - Ditch end) before embarking on a long and series 1.2gkm (grouse km) leg cross country, clambering over too many ravines to count your way across. On this sunny day however I could simply choose a spot on the distant hillside to run at and go, following that wise old grouse and seemingly tumbling in the turbulence of its wing beat. I enjoyed this part of the day, the navigation worked and I found the check point (No.67 – Re-entrant) without being seen by others – a crime equal to giving the game away!Keen to play on my hard won advantage I sped off towards the 4th check point but judged the terrain wrong and struggled to find it, despite the obvious stones by a path acting as a nearby marker. Again, I sped off to find the 5th check point but this time I kept too high and lost a few more minutes searching. It was well hidden in a peaty pit, but this didn’t stop another runner from passing me and the race was on… The run to the 6th check point was long and hard but I caught up a few vital seconds with marginally better navigation and the advantage of following. The race now heated up as we caught up with a third runner but my more determined navigation, and maybe even stamina paid off and I found the 7th and 8th check points first. The short leg to the 9th check point should have been swiftly executed but none of us could find until some other older more experienced runners found it for us – though you don’t know for sure until checking the details. I held back here, conserving energy and watching my original competitor from CP no.5 go ahead. He clipped his card and unbelievably took off in the wrong direction, seemingly following some others from another course. I charged down the path towards the finish point, until, mystified by the lack of a finish marker ahead, realised that it was I who’d made the most stupid error of the day and it was he who won through our second half battle. - Ian
The event was organized by the East Pennine Orienteering Club at Marsden Moor. Ian, Nick Roberts and children, Andy H, Gilly, Adam, Phil& Jacqui, Stuart & Sarah with Abby and Sarah S took part. The weather was brilliant and all who attended had a good time, even myself though my navigation was rubbish (we weren’t last as someone on our course retired and another missed 2 flags)! - Stuart
There were 4 courses and the relevant results were
White 2.0K. (3 runners)
| 1 | Fiona Hodgson | EPOC | 38.50 |
| 2 | Nick Roberts+2 | MVC | 49.55 |
| 3 | Megan & Laura Harrison | EPOC | 52.00 |
Yellow 3.8K (3 runners)
| 1 | Matthew Cromack | IND | 24.25 |
| 2 | Emma Oddy | IND | 32.10 |
| 3 | Adam Markham +Abi+Sarah | EPOC | 65.30 |
Short Technical 4.0K (12 runners)
| 1 | Linda Hayles | EPOC | 52.40 |
| 2 | Jane Hodgson | EPOC | 53.20 |
| 3 | Neil Croasdell | EPOC | 55.30 |
| 9 | Philip & Jacqui Toothill | MVC | 91.40 |
| 10 | Stuart Clark & Sarah Tuffs | MVC | 104.20 |
Long Technical 6.0K (13 runners)
| 1 | Paul Taylor | EPOC | 60.10 |
| 2 | Gilly Markham | EPOC | 73.20 |
| 3 | Nick Preston | AIRE | 74.00 |
| 4 | Andy Hargreaves | IND | 76.40 |
| 8 | Ian Parker | MVC | 90.42 |
Mosedale Horseshoe - 14 May 2005
Friday night turned into late night drinking in Cockermouth, so Saturday was a lazy day going to see some gorgeous collie puppies at my friend’s mum’s farm. Phil is so mean he wouldn’t let me bring one of the little fur balls home. We set up camp at the site in Nether Wasdale and then spent the afternoon sunbathing, buying ice cream etc. I can highly recommend the campsite and the nearby pub, The Screes, serves good beer and selling yummy food – can highly commend the pies.The next day we thought we had better work off the excess of yesterday and drove up to Wasdale Green. We headed up past the hotel and up towards Black Sail Pass. We cut off to the left near the top on a more minor direct path and felt a nice breeze on the ridge. After a quick rest and view of Ennerdale, High Crag, High Stile, Red Pike and Grassmooor we set off on the steady climb up Pillar. After a couple of false summits we finally reached the top (2926ft) and had another break and went to have a look at Pillar Rock.
We followed a line of cairns steeply down to Wind Gap and after a short ascent reached the summit of Black Crag (2717 ft). After this it was on to Scoat Fell, (Rocky Projection Fell), 2759ft where the top is marked by a cairn on the wall. As Nick’s knees were playing up he decided to wait for us while we set off to the distinct summit of Steeple, 2687 ft. There were excellent views off its steep sides down into Ennerdale. We headed back and collected Nick and set down the grassy slopes. Here we met some water and the dogs could have a quick drink. We headed off up Red Pike (Red Peak), 2710 ft staying off the main path to the edge to reach the summit. Nick had stayed on the main path and we rejoined him. There was soon down hearts when we spotted Yewbarrow ahead which appeared quite a distance and quite a climb – poor Nick’s knees ! We descended down to Dore Head and had a rest next to some pools, where the dogs enjoyed a bit of a wade. Nick and Rachel then decided to opt out off Yewbarrow and headed down the scree shoot and straight back to the pub.
Phil and I carried on and headed up the scramble on Yewbarrow – another one of those routes were I let Phil lead, commenting that this is quite a stretching scramble, to look back and see he has completely by-passed the path and gone for a direct ascent. We soon reached the top of Yewbarrow North Top (2021 ft). It was then a pleasant stroll along the ridge to the summit of Yewbarrow (2060ft). Apparently the usual way off is the nose of the ridge but this is not a very pleasant path and very eroded. We walked south on the ridge for 200 yards and then headed right down the steep bilberry covered slopes to join up with the valley path. Once on the path we made good time to the road and headed back to the car along the road. We were passed by Rach and Nick who had been for a pint. Lovely day out but a reminder to all – even when overcast wear sunscreen – the glowing top of my arms are reason why !
Jacqui
Contents
- Editorial
- Vibram News
- Glowing on Bleaklow
- Meet Report
- Hebridean Holiday
- Meet Report
- Chew Valley Climbing
- Sikkim—The Treks I Didn’t Do
- Kookery Korner
- Meet Report, Dunmail Raise
- Orienteering Day Meet
- Mosedale Horshoe
- Forthcoming Meets
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