2010

Week 1 diary

An old English eccentric, Alfred Wainwright (known affectionately as AW to his many followers) spent 20 years wandering the Lake District Fells, sketching the landscape from strategic locations and persuaded a mate to stump up funds to finance 7 Pictorial Guides to the Lake District Fells, at least from AW’s perspective. The rest is history, and there are now 214 fells, completed in 59 circular walks in AW’s 7 books, which fellwalker’s “bag” to complete the set. Unlike the Munroes and Corbetts in Scotland, and the Birketts in the Lake District, which all have height criteria, the Wainwrights were purely at the whim of AW. So why, for instance, Mungrisedale Common, which is just a flat area of boggy marshland, admittedly with stunning views, but dwarfed by the higher peaks surrounding it, is a Wainwright, and Ladyside Pike, a very distinctive and impressive peak, isn’t, is a complete mystery. Still, AW did come from Blackburn where they’re all bonkers. I should know, my dad was born and bred in Blackburn.
Anyway, I’m using predominantly (but not exclusively) a book “WALKING THE WAINWRIGHTS with Stuart Marshall”, which covers the 214 Wainwrights in 36 longer walks, so here’s my diary for the first week: (I hope the account of my first walk doesn’t upset anyone. If it does, I apologise)
Tuesday June 1st: Weather a bit driek, as the Scots would say, so went into work for a few hours and did a local walk a bit later.
Wednesday June 2nd: A beautiful English summer’s day, and my first Stuart Marshall walk “The Newlands Watershed”, the 2nd longest at 15 miles, the equal highest number of Wainwright’s, 10, and easily the highest ascent at 5,700 feet. In for a penny, in for a pound. I was up Cat Bells before 7am. At the first rise I was joined by an overweight chocolate brown Labrador, closely followed by its owner, Hilary, from Portinscale, and one fit woman. She easily kept up with me, mind you, I was giving her a good twenty years. Hilary was a primary teacher in Keswick and said her son was friends with Chloe Walker who had been killed in the horrendous school bus accident the previous week, which was within viewing distance on the nearby A66. Today was the day of Chloe’s funeral.
I passed a walker on Maiden Moor at 7.30, ascended High Spy followed by Dale Head, where I saw another walker on his way to Hindscarth. Having completed Hindscarth, I caught up with the other walker on Robinson. He was from Leeds and was wild camping in the fells for the week and was into his 3rd day, having set off from Coniston with 4 days food. Having established he was going in my direction, I invited him to join me, but he politely declined. After all, he was burdened with a full pack, whereas I only had enough food and drink to feed a small army.
Onwards to Newlands Hause followed by a rise up to Knott Rigg and Ard Crags, then a drop into another valley where a group of National Trust volunteers were repairing a path that had subsided. Then back up onto Scar Crags. I’d taken a small transistor radio with me and had intermittently tuned into Radio 2 or 4 when reception allowed, which was generally only on the summits. The local radio signal had been too poor, but I knew from previous walks that reception would be better on Scar Crags, so tuned in to Radio Cumbria. “West Cumbria is in lock-down. A madman with a gun has shot dead at least 3 people and wounded many more, the bodies are still strewn on the streets covered in blankets.” I couldn’t believe it, things like that don’t happen in Cumbria. I know it’s affectionally known as “The Wild West” (because of the odd fist-fight at chucking out time at weekends), but it had turned into the real Wild West. A report said that 3 police cars had passed the funeral of Chloe Walker at high speed. The last car stopped to tell the mourners, who were congregated outside the church in the sunshine, to get under cover. By the time I got to Causey Pike, the gunman had been named as Derrick Bird, a taxi driver from nearby Rowrah, who was now on foot and holed up in Boot. A yellow Sea King helicopter went overhead, heading west, no doubt in pursuit of Mr Bird. The rest is history. Mr Bird shot himself in Boot, it’s a catastrophe that he chose to take a dozen fellow Cumbrian’s with him to Boot Hill. Despite local hopes that Whitehaven won’t be mentioned in the same sentence as Hungerford and Dunblane, it’s now inevitable, at least within living memory. Strangely, neither local people nor the press has labeled Mr Bird evil, just a psychopath, but a very nice one. What he did was psychopathetic and cowardly, and he’s left a terrible legacy for the community and his family, particularly his 2 sons and 90 years old mother. Just like JFK’s assassination and 9/11, no-one in Cumbria will ever forget where they were on this terrible day, and certainly not me, in idyllic surroundings hearing such devastating news.
I completed the Watershed with sore feet, a bit dehydrated, but it was a fantastic walk, apart from the sad news from West Cumbria.
Thursday 3rd June: “The North Central Fells”. A 12 miler taking in Walla Crag, Bleaberry Fell, High Seat, Raven Crag, Armboth and High Tove. I met a couple from Preston and their 10 year old granddaughter on Raven Crag. Their granddaughter was a bit of a tomboy, climbing trees and venturing on precipitous edges, and she had a broken wrist in plaster to prove it.
Friday 4th June: “The Loweswater Fells” with my wife Karen, a 10 miler taking in Mellbreak, Hen Combe and Gavel, Blake and Burnbank Fells. After Mellbreak we lost our bearings (no doubt, not for the last time) and ended up on Starling Dodd, followed by Great Borne, then down and up again to Hen Combe, much further than the original 10 miles planned. We can always go back one evening and knock off Gavel, Blake and Burnbank Fells, and completing Starling Dodd and Great Borne knocks 5 miles off the more gruelling 16 mile Buttermere Round.
Saturday 5th June: Rest day, a bit of cycling, as usual, and golf. Even managed a nett 67, which is the first time in eons I’ve beaten my handicap, must be all that exercise.
Sunday 6th June: Another rest day because thunder was forecast. We didn’t venture onto the fells because 4 walkers were struck by lightning in 3 separate strikes in the space of half an hour less than 3 weeks earlier in the Grasmoor area. Health and safety.
Monday 7th June: The Wythop & Lorton Fells. Cloudy with a prospect of rain, so set off late to do this local walk. After Sale Fell the heavens opened, but fortunately I was near the only wooded area and sheltered under a hawthorn bush with a purpose built branch for a seat and had lunch. Rain stopped after 20 minutes and completed Broom Fell, Lord’s Seat, Barf, Whinlatter Fell, Graystones and Ling Fell, seeing only a handful of other walkers on Lord’s Seat.

POSTED 9th August 2010 (Still playing catch-up)

WALK 5: GRASMERE TO LANGDALE PIKES, PLUS HIGH RAISE (added, because it’s shorter to do it in this walk than by the book)
Friday 11th June: After ascending Silver How, the cloud came down. If I’d been with Karen, we would have turned back, she hates being in cloud, and I’m not that keen, although I can usually manage. Blea Rigg is a long straggly fell and takes forever. After 2.5 hours I’d just completed Blea Rigg and the cloud had finally lifted. The next 2.5 hours I bagged another 7 Wainwrights, Pavey Ark, Harrison Stickle, Loft Crag, Pike o’ Stickle, Thunacar Knott, High Raise and Sergeant Man (don’t the fells have interesting names, I wonder who named them?), had lunch and chatted with several interesting people. One old boy told me he could get from Stickle Tarn to Pavey Ark without resting, as long as he took it at his own pace, and he’d done the Fairfield Horseshoe the previous day in attrocious weather. I always like seeing old boys and girls on the fells, it means I still have many years enjoying them unless I turn up my toes sooner. Last was Tarn Crag overlooking Easedale Tarn, a fantastic walk.

 WALK 6: THE EASTERN MARTINDALE FELLS
Thursday 17th June: Had to work several days, so 6 days until next walk, but another cracking day. It was so warm and still, that on the steep grassy slopes up to Swarth Fell I had to mop my brow several times and I don’t normally sweat profusely. I looked back to see a walker dressed in a black shirt and khaki shorts (for simplicity, let’s call him Bob) following a few hundred metres behind. On the ridge I could see most of the walk mapped out to left, ahead, right and behind against a clear blue sky, better than any picture postcard. Once on the ridge, most of the hard work was behind me and it looked a delightful, undulating walk. Bonscale was a delight, overlooking Ullswater and wiyh its 2 distinct rocky pillars. Next came Arthur’s Pike, then on to Loadpot Hill and, looking back, I could still see Bob in my wake. On the rise to Loadpot Hill 2 walkers on a lower path who were videoing the landscape beckoned me. They asked “Are we on the right road to High Street?”
“Yes”
“How long to get there, an hour?”
“More like 3 hours. Where are you going after High Street?”
“We were thinking of getting a bus back to Howtown.”
Did they know High Street didn’t have a regular bus service, or any coffee shops? Nor did the 2 have a map or rucksack. I told them their best bet was to go back to Howtown, but if they wanted to continue, they needed to veer right off High Street to Thornthwaite Crag, you can’t miss it, it has the tallest cairn in the Lakes, drop down to the right, at the Stony Cove col, take a right turn which takes you to Hartsop, then follow the road 3 miles to Glenridding and get the Lake Steamer back to Howtown. They continued, but I’ll never be sure if they made it to Glenridding in time for the last steamer.
In the meantime, Bob had overtaken me, so I followed in his wake up Wether Hill and onto High Raise where we met. It transpired he was using the same Stuart Marshall book, so we agreed to walk together. We had lunch on Kidsty Pike, where the idea of sponsorship kicked in. Next came Rampsgill Head, where 2 women told us they were near to completing their 2nd tour of Wainwrights. It turned out they lived just down the road from me in Wigton. The Knott, Rest Dodd and The Nab followed. Apparently, AW should never have included The Nab in his walks, because it’s a private deer reserve, and 3 red deer scattered as they saw us appear on the horizon. When we arrived back at St Peter’s Church in Martindale, Bob from Blackburn had parked his car next to mine, and I had seen him arrive just as I started walking. What a fantastic walk.

WALK 7: A SKIDDAW ROUND (or at least half of it)
Sunday 20th June: A Sunday afternoon walk with Karen and our son Adam taking in Ullock Pike, Longside, Carlside and Dodd on a perfect English summer day. Stunning.

WALK 8: A (curtailed) BUTTERMERE MARATHON
Monday 21st June: Remember I did Starling Dodd and Great Borne with Karen by accident, so a 16 miler was reduced to under 12. I came across a group of around 10 boys and a girl, all carrying big packs, on my way to the Lake. They were practicing for the Duke of Edinburgh gold medal which was a couple of weeks away in Scotland. Their backpacks were almost as big as them, and the girl said she had to carry her tent, whereas the lads shared theirs. They were just doing a 15 mile hike, which wasn’t a problem, except for the weight on their backs.
I stopped at Bleaberry Tarn for my mid-morning banana, which didn’t go down as well as normal. Onto Red Pike, High Stile, High Crag then Haystacks (AW’s favourite fell, and where his ashes are scattered in nearby Innominate Tarn). On the way I met a guy from Devon who greeted me with gusto. Apparently, he visited The Lakes for 2 weeks every year and loved it, which shows the attractions of The Lakes. Lunch went down even worse than the banana, which is unusual after a healthy, strenuous walk. Never mind, onwards to Fleetwith Pike, where I was sick as a dog on the ascent. My granddaughter had got a stomach bug the previous Friday which, to her dismay, had prevented her going on the scheduled school summer outing to Muncaster Castle and La’al Ratty. I’d obviously caught the bug, who would have kids, eh? I was sick as a dog again on the descent, which completely “knocked the legs from under me”, was totally dehydrated and out of water. I managed to scrounge half a pint of water from 2 young women with a child who were picnicking on the Lake on a lovely summer evening, what a life-saver. Not a brilliant walk, despite being in some of the best scenery in The Lakes.

Recuperation from the tummy bug kept me off the fells for the next 2 days, but it didn’t stop me being run off the road by an RAC breakdown driver on a remote narrow country road at 2.15pm on 23rd June, no doubt in his haste to get to the pub to watch the England game against Estonia. He came round a blind bend at high speed leaving me 2 options, ditch or die. I chose the former, and he must have known I had to ditch, but didn’t even stop. I wrote to the RAC and a month later got an apologetic letter, saying they had failed to identify the driver. Who are they kidding, when only a handful of vehicles an hour use that road, and most of them are tractors? I’ve promoted them from 4th emergency service to 1st emergency cause, and they don’t care!

WALK 9: A SKIDDAW ROUND (the other half)
Thursday 24th June: The weather had changed and Skiddaw was in cloud, so did Latrigg first in the hope the cloud would disperse. Next, to Lonscale Fell, when drizzle set in, followed by heavier rain. Decided to abandon until another day, but was so close to Skiddaw Little Man it had to be done. On reaching the top of Little Man, the rain stopped, but the cloud was still down. Fortunately, there’s a broad highway running up Skiddaw giving easy navigation, so continued to the top where I was all alone, very unusual on a June day. Still only midday, so I decided to drop down over Broad End and bag Bakestall, which is out on a limb in another walk. The cloud was starting to clear on Bakestall, so I had lunch before going back up to Broad End. On the way, I met a woman from New Zealand who thought the Lake District was fantastic. What praise from a Kiwi with their unrivalled scenery. Skiddaw was now clearing, and I could see Great Calva, another fell out on a limb in another walk, so decided to return to Bakestall and bag Great Calva. So, after an unpromising start, thinking I’d only bag 3 fells, I succeeded in doing 6 and knocked a few miles from 2 of the other walks. Not a bad day after all, although the weather wasn’t much to write home about.

Friday and through the weekend were pre-booked for the Innovia Team Challenge, an Outward Bound weekend of team bonding. Saturday was the hottest day of the year with wall-to-wall sunshine and lots of midges. Teams were chosen on Belbin principles, some fancy psychometric quiz that I completed with undue care and attention. Apparently, Belbin pays no heed to age, because the 2 oldest competitors were in Team Otto (or Toto as it became known, because no-one knew what Otto had invented). Anyway, we did OK, coming 2nd out of 7 teams, which is really a win when age is considered. The last event was a swimming-canoeing-running relay, and I chose to swim, or at least was defaulted as a swimmer. Unfortunately, I gashed the bottom of my left foot on the sharp stones when entering Derwentwater. So, not a great week, sick as a dog on Fleetwith Pike, run off the road by the RAC man and a gashed sole of my foot in Derwentwater. They say bad luck comes in 3’s, let’s hope they’re right.

WALK 10: HIGH PIKE & CARROCK FELL
Monday 28th June: Weather not brilliant, so a shorter walk with Karen to nurse my sore heel back into service. Met a guy who’d recovered from a heart attack who was doing a version of the Wainwrights including a height criterion.

WALK 11: A MELL FELL MEDLEY
Tuesday 29th June: Still nursing a sore heel, so cheated a bit by using the car to access each of the 3 fells in the medley, Great Mell Fell, Little Mell Fell and Gowbarrow. Another glorious day with stunning views, particularly for so little effort.

WALK 12: LOW FELL & FELLBARROW
Tuesday 30th June: My last official day at work before retirement so, after working in the morning, celebrated with the shortest walk in the book. A perfect summer’s day and I didn’t see a soul on the walk, most likely because the Bridge at Lorton is still down after last November’s floods, making access to Thackthwaite more difficult.

WALK 13: BACK o’ SKIDDAW
Monday 1st July: Decided to do fells I knew, since they were in cloud. Walked to Trusmadoor to access Great Cock Up (honest). The wind blew my glasses off, but fortunately not over the side of the steep rocky slopes on the initial ascent to Great Cock Up. Back down to Trusmadoor and up to Meal Fell where I saw a once in a lifetime event (unless you live near Niagara Falls), a rainbow in the valley. It would have made a brilliant picture against the backdrop of Little Sca Fell, but I’d left my camera at home because of the cloud. Rats! On the side of Burn Todd, the rain and cloud set in, but I eventually found my way onto the top of Knott. Took a bearing North on a wide squelchy path, but realised after 15 minutes I was on the wrong path, perhaps by 100. Decided to continue, since going back into cloud wouldn’t guarantee I’d find the correct path second time. A few minutes later the cloud momentarily cleared showing Great Sca Fell to my left, but across 2 valleys. Do I trek across 2 valleys in worsening weather or drop to the valley below, which I didn’t recognise, although logic told me was the source of Caldbeck (the river)? Surprisingly, I took the safe option and dropped down to the Caldbeck valley. Half a mile along the valley floor I recognised the features, but was still miles from my car. I had 2 options, both involving trekking a similar distance: Walk along the valley floor, or regain over 1000ft to complete Brae Fell, Great Sca Fell and Longlands. I did the latter, but it wasn’t the most pleasant experience with sporadic rain and clouds. So much for the fells I knew.

WALK 14: THE COLEDALE ROUND (with extras)
Friday 2nd July: On the early slopes of I talked to a couple who I would meet much later. It was howling a gale on the slopes up to Grisedale Pike, but once over the top the winds eased a touch. Continued on to Hopegill Head, then Whiteside, where I met a mature walker from Northampton who spent 2 week in the Lakes every year and wished he had a helicopter to ferry him here more often. Back to Hopegill Head then onto Grasmoor, before dropping down then rising to Crag Hill (I wish I’d done Wandope while I was in the dip, which was only 15 minutes walk away). Down and back up to Sail, down and back up to Oughterside, down and back up to Barrow, before a final descent to Braithwaite village. On the final descent, I met Julie and her husband (sorry mate, forgot your name and only remembered Julie’s because it’s similar to my daughter) from Buckinghamshire again. I told them I was walking for LDSAMRA, and they gave me a tenner without a moments thought. What generous people, and an inspiration to others. Thank you. Another super walk, albeit a bit breezy.

POSTED 20th August 2010 (Still playing catch-up)

WALK 15: THE WESTERN MARTINDALE FELLS
Thursday 5th July: A lovely start to the walk, but it got a bit cloudy and chilly later on. Hallin Fell made for an easy start, then onto Steel Knotts, before dropping down into Martindale, and a brief visit to St Martin’s Church. Next onto Beda Fell, Angletarn Pikes, Brock Crags and finally Place Fell. Lost the path off the far end of Place Fell, so had to drop down a steep bracken laden rocky slope onto the valley floor. Didn’t meet anyone, but saw the odd walkers in the distance.

WALK 16: A GLENRIDDING CIRCUIT (and most of the GREATER GRISEDALE HOSESHOE)
Thursday 6th July: Not such a brilliant day, so decided on the Glenridding Circuit. After Glenridding Dodd and Sheffield Pike I ascended a ridge and saw a poxy, puny pimple to my right. I thought, that can’t be a Wainwright (I should have known better), so headed down another valley, over a tongue, then up the higher peak beyond. By now my feet were wet through from the long wet grass. I recognized I was on Great Dodd, and, since Watson’s and Stybarrow Dodd were nearby, I visited them, before returning to Hart Side, the poxy, puny pimple. Next onto Raise, Whiteside and Helvellyn, my 99th peak. On the way up to Helvellyn, I met a guy carrying his mountain bike (why do they do it?) and offered to take a wheel. “No, I can’t say I’ve done it if I get help.” Fair enough. He was from Patterdale, but had an accent strangely like my own, and told me he originated from Chorley in Lancashire. He told me the owner or manager of The Inn on the Lake in Glenridding (or perhaps some other local hostelry) was from Bolton, my hometown, they get everywhere, don’t they? Since I was on Helvellyn I thought I’d pop along to Nethermost (my 100th Wainwright) and Dollywagon Pikes before descending down Swirral Edge onto Catstye Cam. On Dollywagon Pike, the clouds rolled in from the west, large spots of rain started falling and the wind got up to over 30mph, not ideal conditions for going over Swirral Edge, especially since conditions were only likely to deteriorate further. So I took the easy option and completed Seat Sandal, St Sunday Crag, Birks and Arnison Crag. 15 Wainwrights, over 20 miles and 6,000ft of ascent in a day, almost Joss Naylor proportions. Well, not quite, but a boy can dream.
The weather remained poor next day, and I’d arranged to visit Steve, a mate in Coventry for the weekend, where we had blistering weather, although it did rain in Cumbria. The 2 spotted flycatcher chicks in one of my nest boxes fledged that weekend. Does anyone know why there were only 2 eggs this year, rather than 4 or 5 in each of the previous 17 years? No second brood either, although it surprises me in the years there is, because flycatchers are the last migrants to arrive back in the UK in late spring.

WALK 17: BASSETT’s walk
Thursday 12th July: Weather not too clever, so decided to knock off the last 2 tops in The St John’s in the Vale Skyline and see what developed. High Rigg was easy, but, although I found a rake going up Clough Head I don’t think it was Fisher’s wife’s rake. The sun had got out, and it was hard work taking 2 steps up and 3 steps back up the rake. Rocks were still tumbling 20 seconds after being dislodged in some places, fortunate that I was alone. Since the weather was still sunny when I descended Clough Head, I decided to drive the short distance to Grasmere and do the High Raise and Greenburn walk, except missing out High Raise, since I’d done it by a shorter route when I was in the Langdales. On Steel Fell the only couple I saw said they’d come from Helm Crag, which was crawling with walkers. An easy, but boggy ridge walk took me across Calf Crag, Gibson Knot and onto Helm Crag, where I was all alone. I ascended the Howitzer, the one notable rocky outcrop that Wainwright failed to climb. A bit of an Allsort’s walk, but 111 Wainwrights completed, so over the halfway line in numbers, but perhaps not in effort.

WALK 18:  GREATER FAIRFIELD HORSESHOE
Thursday 13th July: Weather dawned bright, warm and sunny, so set off early for Rydal, with my bike on board in case I couldn’t find a parking spot. The first hour up Nab Scar seemed like hard work, but that first hour usually does, but fantastic views, and now in my stride to Heron Pike. Another walk where the route is generally visible all the way around the ridge. From Heron Pike, lost a lot of altitude, down to Stone Arthur. Haven’t Lake District places got fascinating names, I wonder where they originated? I have a theory for Stone Arthur. AW had a mate who thought the A stood for Arthur, I’m sure you know how wrong names sometimes stick. For instance, Roger at the Wigton bike shop called me Brian for the first 5 years, even though he knew Brian wasn’t my name. Anyway, one day AW was walking with his mate and they arrived at this rocky outcrop, where AW told his mate he’d just bagged another Wainwright. His mate said “Stone me Arthur, I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if I wasn’t bagging Wainwrights.” Mind you, it does have terrific views. The Fairfield Horseshoe misses out the smaller peak of Stone Arthur, which begs the question “Should this be the Lesser Fairfield Horseshoe?” Back up to High Raise, one thing’s for sure with Stuart Marshall’s walks, you’re forever regaining lost height, unlike the 59 Wainwright walks which tend to use the ridges. Then onto Fairfield, Hart and Dove Crags, and High and Low Pikes. For such a lovely day, there were relatively few people out walking. 10 minutes after Low Pike a group of exhausted teenagers with full backpacks came over a rise. “Is that High Pike?” “No, mate, you’ve got another 15 minutes to Low Pike, then another half hour before High Pike.” Looking dejected he said “How will we recognise High Pike?” “Don’t worry, you’ll know it all right, it has a cairn 20 meters right of the wall, and the wall runs out shortly afterwards, before you ascend the rockier slopes to Dove Crag.” Another group doing their DofE gold badge, and they should have learned the lesson that when you see the next hill crest, never assume it’s the top, you’ll only be disappointed 4 times out of every 5. Fantastic kids though, and a super days walking. Having returned to my car reasonably early, I took the opportunity for a bike ride to the Old Dungeon Ghyll while I was in the heart of the Lake District.
The next week was wet, with over 6 inches (150mm) of rain falling in Seathwaite on Monday 19th July, more rain in one day than the normal July average. 15th July, St Swithin’s Day was also wet, not a good omen.

WALK 19:  A MOP UP
Tuesday 20th July: Still not the best of days, but Karen and I braved the weather to mop up the remaining fells of the WHITESIDE-GRASMOOR ROUND. Rannerdale Knotts was fine, apart from Karen getting lost near the top, then ascending Whiteless Pike the rain started spotting and we met another group of 4 boys and 2 girls doing their DofE gold’s. Onto Wandope, when the rain set in, I knew I should have done it in the Coledale Round when it was far nearer, if that makes sense. On the way back to the car we met another 4 boys and a girl on their DofE gold’s. They said they were part of the previous group, but on a different route, had been out for 3 days in bad weather, including the previous day’s torrential rain, when they had gone up Skiddaw, and dropped down the scree slope to Carlside. Rather them than me! Teenagers often have a bad name, but with fantastic kids like these, Britain is guaranteed a good future.
Next day rain was forecast, so I went shopping, but it actually turned out a nice day. The local radio weather people got plaudits for the way the weather turned out, much better than forecast. Well, no, they got it wrong, so they should have had their backsides kicked, I missed a day on the fells. As an aside, Karen got sick of me arriving home at 8 or 9 at night without prior information that I would be late, so I became the reluctant owner of a mobile phone on 21st July, it was a sad day that I long dreaded.

WALK 20:  A KIRKSTONE-DOVEDALE CIRCUIT
Thursday 22nd July: The weather forecast was for better weather as the day progressed, so decided to risk the early drizzle and set off up Hartsop Dodd. From the summit I could see the higher Caudale Moor was in cloud, which cleared and reformed as I approached. I decided to do the nearby Gray Crag which was clear, hoping the cloud would disperse, so dropped down to Stony Cove and across to Gray Crag. While I was here I decided to do Thornthwaite Crag and High Street, before returning to Caudale Moor, which by now was clear. Red Screes cleared as I dropped down to the head of Kirkstone Pass, but was back in cloud before I reached the summit. Not to worry, the remainig fells were much lower and I soon came out of the cloud and onto Middle Dodd. I passed within 100yards of Little Hart Crag on my way to High Hartsop Dodd, thinking I would do it when I returned to do Hartsop-above-How. A big mistake, when the clouds descended on all the lower fells, and I decided to abandon the walk. So much for the weather forecast, AGAIN! I reluctantly trudged back to Little Hart Crag to avoid a much longer walk later on. Hartsop-above-How would have to wait for another day. One thing that baffles me about the name of these fells is “Why is High Hartsop Dodd smaller than Hartsop Dodd?” Some say it’s because the former is higher up Kirkstone Pass than the latter, but Middle Dodd is even higher up the pass than both. It remains a mystery, can anyone enlighten me?

WALK 21:  GREAT GABLE AND NEIGHBOURS
Friday 23rd July: The day dawned bright, at last! Missed a ladder stile going from Seathwaite to Grey Knotts, so had to climb a couple of walls to get back on track. Spoke to a couple of women on Grey Knotts before moving on to Brandreth. At Beck Head I met a photographer taking photos of Wasdale. As we talked, the clouds rolled in and engulfed Great Gable. On the way to Kirk Fell a chap told me he’d been on the phone to a mate who was joining him next day and telling him of the brilliant weather and the fantastic views…….”Hang on, the cloud’s just rolled in and swallowed Great Gable.” It’s amazing just how fast the weather can change in the fells. Higher up I met an old lady from Surrey, who was alone and must have been well over 70. She explained she’d been bagging Wainwrights for over 20 years, had only twenty odd left, and the last time she tried to do Kirk Fell it was in fog, but the cloud wouldn’t deter her this time. She’d done Sour Howes on rainy Monday, and was only sure she’d succeeded because she’d visited every little hillock she could find in the fog. On the way down Kirk Fell I spoke to a family from Buckinghamshire who’d stayed at Black Sail Hut overnight and gone to a talk given by Cockernouth Mountain Rescue Team earlier in the week. Their 2 sons around 8 and 10 were coping admirably on the fells. Onto Great Gable for lunch, which was in and out of cloud. There were lots of people on the summit (after all, these are some of the “honey-pot” fells), but not many visited the best viewing point just over the summit at Westmorland cairn. Next to Green Gable, then on the way to Base Brown I talked to a couple who were supporters of the Cockermouth Mountain Rescue Team, it said so on their T-shirts. Despite following the instructions to the letter, I finished descending Base Brown on steep rocky and bracken-clad slopes, but, all considered, another fantastic walk.

WALK 22:  WET WASDALE
Saturday 24th July: Camping weekend in Wasdale, when, weather permitting I could knock off most of the Western and some of the Central Fells. Adam and I met Emma and Celine (from work) on the Wasdale Head car park just after 9am. The plan was to book into the small campsite next to The Wasdale Head Inn. Adam and I arrived just before 9, paid a visit to the loo and on the way back to the car, saw that a tent was being pitched in the last space on the campsite. Not to worry, all the hills were shrouded in cloud and rain looked imminent. Emma and Celine arrived just after 9, so we decided to do Middle Fell, Seatallen and Buckbarrow, then take stock. It was cloudy on all 3 summits, but Emma did a sterling job navigating us around, and what’s more, teaching the rest of us the rudiments of navigating. Is that not role reversal, I always thought it was women who are useless at navigating? It was the first time I’d worn my new promotional logo (see below) on my backpack, and when I arrived on Seatallen, ahead of the rest, I met a group of 5 walkers from the Citizens Advice Bureau in Whitehaven. I’d left my rucksack in a prominent position alongside the trig point, and I watched as several of them read it, but none commented. I had a bet with a friend that no-one would, so first blood to me. The rain really set in on Seatallen, and on the way down from Buckbarrow, we met another party of walkers from Leeds. One of them had cycled the 100+ miles from Leeds the previous day, finishing by going over Wrynose and Hardknott Passes, brave man. When we reached the cars, we had to wring out our clothing and have a complete change before retiring to the pub for drinks. The weather forecast for the weekend was atrocious, so we gave up the idea of camping and went home to a full house of kids and grandkids. Karen was well pleased!
The weather was pretty grotty for the next 5 days, but was forecast to clear up briefly on Tuesday afternoon, so I decided to risk completing the Loweswater Fells. I got to a point near Gavel Fell, with sodden feet and in thick cloud, and my very basic compass couldn’t tell north from south. Even though I had received a GPS as a retirement present on 30th June, I still hadn’t had time to set it up (anyway, it was far too complicated for a technophobe like me to understand), so I used my instinct. After half an hour of pointlessly wandering the fells in the rain, I arrived back at the place from whence I had started, so decided to abandon the walk. On the way down, Hen Combe briefly appeared so I bagged that. Unfortunately, I’d already done it on Walk 3, rats! I had lunch on Hen Comb, since the cloud briefly threatened to clear, then it started really chucking down, which was the final straw. I arrived back at the car an hour later, sodden, and, lo and behold, the cloud cleared. Rats and more rats! I saw John Bland, a mate of mine, in Cockermouth on the way home, and he was surprise that I’d got wet through a couple of hours earlier. The weather can be so fickle in The Lakes.
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WALK 23: A STONETHWAITE MEDLEY
Thursday 29th July: I had the choice of going on my very first works pensioners outing to Blackpool or go walking in The Lake District, so no choice really. I parked in Grange and went up the smallest of all the Wainwrights first, Castle Crag, at less than 1000ft. Then onto the” It’s one of the most strenuous ascents in the book.....find the best way you can up the steep slopes and rakes to the summit”. After descending the top of Eagle Crag I met a couple who had walked around the side on a much easier route. What’s the point of scrambling up tough terrain, looking up at a shear rock face that looks impenetrable, even though it isn’t once you get there, when there’s a far easier route, albeit half a mile further? Never mind, onto Sergeants Crag, round Greenup Edge to Ullscarf, then the long drop to Angle Tarn and Great Crag, passing one of the many Blea Tarns along the way. Then down and across to Grange Fell, which is a collection of 3 fells, (none of which is called Grange Fell) Jopplety and King’s Hows, and Brund Fell, the latter being the true summit. I was to find others, Holme and Lingmoor Fells which cause the same confusion. On the way home through Keswick, I bought a more reliable compass. Another delightful, if boggy walk in places, which could have been made easier by going around Eagle Crag instead of straight up its nose.
I had to be home early to go to my first works pensioner’s dinner at the Shepherd’s Inn. Karen was really looking forward to it, and a good time was had by all.

WALK 24: AN ELTERWATER EXCURSION
Monday 2nd August: I decided to do my first bike-hike, since the route was long and cut across several roads along the way. Parking the car in a lay-by on the A591 just outside Grasmere, I biked to the foot of Loughrigg Fell up a 25% gradient, I wondered why a biker coming in the opposite direction at the bottom said “You’re a brave fellow.” At the top I helped a woman and her early teen’s son to free a chain, which had become jammed in the front gear set and entangled in the derailleur train of the mum’s mountain bike. They’d just cycled over Loughrigg Fell, what an adventurous mum. I parked and locked the bike at the foot of Loughrigg Fell and was soon at the summit, to be greeted by tens of people, it was more popular than Blackpool on a bank holiday. I suppose it was the only perfect summer’s day we’d had in a long time. Back on my bike to the Ambleside-Coniston Road, parking the bike alongside a footpath to Tarn Howes. Black Crag is one of only a handfull of Lake District Fells with its name emblazoned on the trig point, and it’s also the highest point on Black Fell. On the way down I talked to a group of 5-12 year old kids at High Arnside Farm. What an idyllic spot to raise kids, especially on such idyllic summer days. Perhaps winters are not so perfect, but the kids said it wasn’t so bad. Their car sometimes failed to get out of the drive, but the Land Rover was usually OK. Next onto Holme Fell, where I didn’t see a soul, and the path kept disappearing, leaving me wading through shoulder high bracken. There must have been at least 4 summits on the Fell, the highest one being furthest away and overlooking Coniston Water, it seemed to go on forever. On the return journey I took a short cut to the road on a steep, rocky descent with even taller bracken. I then cycled to Little Langdale up another 25% gradient to scale Lingmoor Fell. On arrival, my house keys containing the bike lock keys were missing, so I cycled back to my previous parking place and found them on the ground where I had mounted my bike, they obviously fell out of my pocket when I got on the bike. By now, it was 7pm, it had been a hot day, and I didn’t feel like cycling back up another 25% gradient, so I cycled the 10 miles back to the car and would return to do Lingmoor Fell on another day.

WALK 25: THE REMAINING LOWESWATER FELLS (3rd time lucky?)
Tuesday 3rd August: One good day makes a summer in the Lake District, so next day reverted to murk. I decided to try the 3 Loweswater fells for the 3rd time, would it be 3rd time lucky? Knowing the previous route I used was extremely boggy, I tried a steeper route, partly clad in knee high wet bracken, bu at less wet. I arrived at a similar place to where I had been lost on my previous outing, but this time my GPS was set up (thanks to Emma again) and I had my new more reliable compass. The GPS told me I was between Gavel and Blake Fells, 2 of my targets, and needed to head south to ascend Gavel Fell first. Out came the compass, but every time I moved the map, north moved to a different position on the compass. Magnetic interference, rats! Never mind, use the GPS compass which works off satellites. Brilliant, I was soon up Gavel Fell, and the cloud cleared for 5 minutes to reveal a fantastic landscape, with Blake Fell towering above me to the North. On Blake Fell I could just make out Cogra Moss in the valley below, but it soon disappeared in the murk. I navigated my way over to Carling Knott, surprisingly, not a Wainwright, before descending to Burnbank Fell, which surprisingly is. At last, I’d succeeded in walking the remaining Loweswater Fells, yippee.

WALK 26: A SWINDALE ROUND & THE EASTERN SIDE OF THE KENTMERE ROUND
Wednesday 4th August: Went walking with Paul & Elaine, 2 friends from Penrith, starting from the head of Longsleddale. Have you ever been to Longsleddale? No, not many have, which is fortunate, because there is 5 miles of single track road with only occasional passing places. I hate driving on single track roads, although it’s essential to walk some of the fells. Mind you, the scenery on the A6 on the journey south and in Longsleddale is stunning. The weather was forecast as the best day of the week, but they got it wrong again, with some drizzle on the way up to Grey Crag and Tarn Crag, combined with boggy underfoot, resulting in wet feet. 2 interesting points are the notched pillars, built by the engineers in the middle of the last century to align the supply pipe from Haweswater to Manchester, and the Tarn has dried up and is just a reedy bog. Perhaps they should rename it No Tarn Crag to distinguish it from its namesake above Easedale Tarn. On the way to Selside Pike we came across a guide from Penrith walkers who was reccying a route for his group walk later in the week. We had lunch in the shelter on Selside Pike, then onto Branstree. The weather improved on the way up to Harter Fell and my shoes had dried out, so the rest of the walk was more comfortable. I would have liked to have done Mardale Ill Bell, which was less than a mile from Harter Fell, but Paul and Elaine had already gone out of their way for Selside Pike, and they’d done Mardale Ill Bell many times before, so we went on our way to complete Kentmere Pike and Shipman Knotts.

WALK 27: THE WESTERN SIDE OF THE KENTMERE ROUND & OTHERS
Thursday 5th August: Not a good weather forecast, but they’d been wrong more often than right recently, so I took the risk and set off from Hartsop in brilliant warm sunshine. As I crested Stony Cove, cloud rolled in like a marching army and within 5 minutes Thornthwaite Crag was engulfed in the grey murk. On Thornthwaite Crag, I could still see High Street, but within 5 minutes, it too disappeared in cloud and it started chucking down. On the way to Mardale Ill Bell, the rain stopped and the cloud cleared. A walker who followed me off High Street said it had been wild on High Street. I wouldn’t go that far, but it was nearer October weather than what we should have in early August. He said “I drove up Kentmere behind a German juggernaut on his 3rd visit along the narrow lanes. Is that legal?” I returned to the Western side of the Kentmere Round along the rim above the Kentmere valley to complete Froswick, Ill Bell and Yoke, before returning to Thornthwaite Crag and descending to Hartsop via Gray Crag. I talked to 3 generations of a delightful family from Braintree with teenage and younger kids and a granddad from Ireland. Good to see 3 generations enjoying the Lake District, and they didn’t seem too upset with the weather they’d had, perhaps they expected worse. Finally, I drove to Cowbridge car park and went up Hartsop-above-How, that I’d missed when the weather deteriorated on Walk 20. Even on a normal walk I’ve heard people say “I almost lost the will to live descending from Hartsop-above-How, because it’s such a long way from Patterdale.” After already walking over 12 miles it seemed a mighty long way to complete the ridge to the highest top just below Hart Crag. I met a couple from the South Downs who looked shattered having walked from the campsight on Brothers Water to Hart and Dove Crags. They said they didn’t have hills like these in the South Downs, and, to my surprise, they hadn’t heard of Wainwright. Most unusual for visitiors to the Lakes.

WALK 28: A TROUTBECK MEDLEY & OTHERS
Saturday 7th August: There was the normal summer Saturday “blocker” at Silloth Golf Course, so I planned a walk with Adam, but the weather forecast put him off, so I went on my own, as usual. Still, these were only low fells, so visibility might not be too impaired. A bright start, but drizzle and cloud soon shrouded Sour Howes and Sallows. Nevertheless, it was just about clear enough to make out the highest point on Sour Howes, who gave it that name, they obviously weren’t so impressed? The route off Sallows said it “leads steeply down over grass”, which appears to be code for “you’ll be waste high through wet bracken on a steep and sometimes boulder strewn bank.” Not again, I was sick of having my boots squelching with water since July started, the joys of an English summer. On Troutbeck Tongue, I met 2 women from Farnworth, one had 20 or so Wainwrights left to bag and was thinking of moving to North Cumbria to be nearer The Lakes. Wansfell and particularly Wansfell pike have the most spectacular views of Windermere and Morcambe Bay. By now the weather had cleared, so it was off to Glenridding to complete the final 2 fells from The Greater Grisedale Horseshoe and A Glenridding Circuit, Birkhouse Moor and Catstye Cam, respectively. Straight up the nose of Birkhouse Moor was a hard slog, but Catstye Cam, via Red Tarn (my 1st visit to the tarn despite numerous times up Helvellyn) was straightforward. Near the bottom of the valley, I met a Geordie with a fishing rod, and his girlfriend. “Is that Helvellyn?” “No, it’s Catstye Cam.” “Hell, it looks high, how long to Helvellyn.” “A couple of hours.” Bear in mind, it was now 7pm, so I said they may have half an hours fishing in Red Tarn if they were to get back to Glenridding before it went dark. They carried on. Another good days walking, completing 3 of the walks in the book, thanks to the effort put into WALK 16.

WALK 29: GREAT END & GLARAMARA
Sunday 8th August: The weather forecast was for a clear day, so I set off early for Seathwaite how wrong could they get it? I soon ran into low cloud and couldn’t see a thing on Seathwaite Fell, in fact, I almost walked into Sprinkling Tarn but just managed to see it in time. I was going to say “before I got my feet wet”, but, you’ve guessed it, they were already sodden. The route in the book took me up a gully to Great End, but, having deviated off track to find it, discretion got the better part of valor, and I dropped back down to the main track and walked round. I met a guy, lets call him Rex from Reading, who had retired a week earlier and said the smile hadn’t left his face. He was going to Scafell Pike, so I walked with Rex and a friend who was a marine learning navigation skills in the fog. Rex said it was his 7th visit to Scafell Pike and he’d yet to have a view, no chance again today! I left them to deviate to Great End and, surprisingly, soon found the top, which was confirmed by my GPS. Just as I was leaving, a couple joined me “Well done, you.ve found the top of Great End.” “But we’re trying to find Esk Pike.” Well, bad luck then.” I thought it would be easy to retrace my steps, but soon found myself looking over what appeared to be a precipitous drop.  After a few minutes regaining my bearings I figured a way back to the path. Half an hour later the same couple appeared from the mist coming from the Esk Pike direction. “Have you been on Esk Pike?” “No, we still haven’t found it yet.” I had lunch in the shelter just above Esk Hause, chatting to 2 women and a man, when an Irish couple appeared out of the mist and said to the threesome,. “We’ve saved you a lot of walking. Scafell Pike is thataway. We’ve just met a guy who’s got all the gear and is an expert navigator and he’s pointed us back down here.” I said, “Well, don’t trust me because I’m a world champion at getting lost in the mist, but I’ve just come from Great End in the direction you’ve just arrived, and Scafell Pike is a mile further on than Great End.” They didn’t believe me, but after consultation with virtually all the walkers sat around the 4 quadrants of the shelter, a chap said he would escort them back in the direction they’d just arrived, and direct them onto the Scafell Pike path. Over half the walkers out that day had difficulty in navigating in the fog, it’s surprising the Mountain Rescue Teams aren’t called out even more often on days like these. After lunch I took the short walk to Allen Crags, then headed south to Glaramara, when the cloud partially cleared (but not on Great End). The sun got out, and on the way to Bessyboot (Rosthwaite Fell) I took my boots off on top of Rosthwaite Cam and wrung my socks out. Not the most brilliant walk, combined with another woeful weather forecast.

On Sunday 8th Aug good weather was forecast 3 days out, for Wed 11th, yippee, it meant I could go camping on Wednesday for a few days to knock off 6 of the remaining 7 walks and 2 bits from other walks that were furthest from home, or at least do as many as I could before the weather broke. Frustration followed, by Thur 12th, the good weather still hadn't materialised, but was now forecast still 3 days out on Sunday 15th. Anyway, Fri 13th (oh no, not Fri 13th) dawned kind of OK, well it wasn't raining, so I bit the bullet and set off for the Western Fells.

WALK 30: THE WESTERN FELLS (at least some of them) & THE REMAINDER OF THE HIGH LEVEL TOUR OF WASTWATER
Friday 13th August: When I arrived at a small car parking area on the remote Ennerdale Bridge to Calder Bridge road, another walker was just donning his gear and was bagging the same 3 fells, so we agreed to walk together. In any case, Wainwright said “These fells should not be underestimated……a fair march is needed even to get a foothold….from any direction”, so it made sense to go together. As we set off another car arrived with a lone woman jumped out and said “Are you Wainwright bagging?” “Of course, why else would we be here?” “I’ll see you out there” she replied. Bob was a retired fireman from Birmingham (well, Sutton Coldfield actually) and an interesting character. He was a Villa fan and had started bagging Wainwrights when someone printed a list off the internet and he realised he’d already done a high percentage of them, the usual story. We were so busy chatting that we missed Grike (I know that seems good, Grike sounds more like an illness than the name of a fell) and on the way back from Crag Fell we passed the woman from the car park and said we’d see her on the route up Lank Rigg. A few minutes after meeting her, her accent sounded familiar:
“Where are you from?”
“Bolton, but I live in Leeds now.”
“I’m originally from Bolton and my brother lives in Leeds.”
“Where?”
“Kelso Road.”
“I used to live in Kelso Gardens.”
“So did he, and you’ll definitely know our Barry.”
“Not Barry Smith, Sue (Barry’s wife) is my best mate, and Barry and my husband share a trailer.”
Her name is Christine, and. It’s a small world. Despite Wainwrights words of warning, it must have been one of the easiest walks so far. Apart from a few boggy bits, it was quite pleasant, and there were a good number of other walkers on the fells.
In the afternoon I drove to Wasdale and completed The High Level Tour of Wastwater. I missed the path going up Whin Rigg, so ended up scrambling up a steep bank over mixtures of deep bracken and boulders. I dislodged one boulder that must have been heavier than me, and might have flattened anyone who was walking in my wake, which fortunately there wasn’t. In fact I only met one other young couple on top of Illgill Head. On completing the walk I drove to Wasdale Head, where both campsites were full, so it was sleeping in the back of the car for the next 3 nights for me.

WALK 31: THE MOSEDALE ROUND & THE REMAINDER OF THE WESTERN FELLS
Saturday 14th August: Sleeping in the car park at Wasdale Head was an eye-opener, both metaphorically and literally for me. On Friday night there were several groups of young walkers setting out on the fells with head torches. Then there was a young couple who arrived at dusk and set out with full backpacks on the track to Great Gable and their car was still there on Sunday afternoon. At 4am I woke for a call of nature to see car headlights coming up the remote valley road, how strange. At 5.30am I woke up to excited voices from nearby cars. What the hell was going on? It soon became obvious, they were all (except for the young couple who were probably wild camping city folk) 3 Peak Baggers. For those unfamiliar with this breed, people who climb Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon, the 3 highest peaks in each of the 3 countries in mainland Britain, in 24 hours, usually as a charity fund-raising event. During the weekend, I talked and walked with a number of these groups – more later. Since I was woken up early, I started walking the Mosedale Round (minus Kirk Fell, which I’d done earlier) plus the 2 fells left over from yesterday mornings walk at 7.30am. All the hilltops were in cloud, but I was hoping the sun or wind would disperse it before I got up there. I passed a single walker on Black Sail Pass, then after that, not a sole for 2 hours as I went over Pillar and Scoat Fell in the cloud. As I came off Scoat Fell I joined 2 wild campers from Sheffield (what is it about Yorkshire folk and wild camping?) and crossed the short arête to Steeple. There were signs of the cloud dispersing, so we hung around for a while to get the views, but it never did. Onwards to the lonely western fells of Haycock and Caw Fell, before returning to Steeple, which by now was clear. On Steeple, I heard a voice from behind “I thought I recognised that walk.” It was Bob the fireman, who had been joined by his mate Pete from Brum that Saturday morning. Then back to Scoat Fell, Red Pike and Yewbarrow, the latter looking innocuous but having both a surprisingly difficult ascent and descent, or perhaps my legs were just feeling tired. Robert Burns from work told me he met Joss Naylor on Yewbarrow when he was bagging Wainrights, and he was “a reet barrie gadgey” (a really nice chap). That’s not the real Rabbie Burns, but it is the genuine Joss Naylor. Afterwards, I went for a shower and shave at the posh camp site at Wasdale, even though it said the facilities were only for campers, it was bliss. Well, no-one ever questions someone who arrives on a bike, do they?

WALK 32: THE SCAFELL GROUP
Sunday 15th August: The big one, so I was up even earlier and walking by 7am. I met a group of 3-Peakers on their way down from Scafell Pike and they looked absolutely shattered. I went straight up the western nose of Lingmell, with good views of Great Gable off its northern ridge, then onto Scafell Pike. I was amazed to be the only one on Scafell Pike, even though it was just before 9am, and I had passed a few walkers on the way up. The 3-Peakers had told me that they’re allowed 2 hours up and 2 hours down for Scafell, not that testing, since I’d made it in less than 2 hours with a detour to Lingmell. There is also a good path all the way up to the pike, a bit rocky in places, so it’s not surprising many of the groups choose to do Scafell Pike during the night, I’m sure Ben Nevis and Snowdon won’t be as forgiving. Not only were the views fantastic, but the visibility was superb and not a cloud in the sky. Within a few minutes I was joined by a group of young lads from Morcambe, who had come up from the Langland Valley in a sponsored walk for Christies. They said a group of 3-Peakers who were ascending from Seathwaite, a much longer ascent, and within sight of the summit, had said “We’ve had our 2 hours, we need to return”, and promptly turned around. I wonder if they claimed a successful 3 peaks challenge? A few more groups started to arrive at the summit, so I left for Scafell, near in distance, but not so easy to get to. As I dropped down to Mickledore, a walker ahead dropped down to the west. I watched him scrambling up with difficulty towards Lord’s Rake, so gave that a miss and dropped off the other side to gain access via Foxes Tarn, which was just a dried up bog. On the top I met up with the other walker who said it was the most frightening experience of his life, never again! Not only had he to cling on for dear life with his hands on steep shifting scree beneath his feet, but he had to go underneath the hanging boulder that has taken Lords Rake off most walker’s routes since it became unstable in 2003. Slight Side is a bit of a disappointment after 3 towering tops, then it was off over tussocky, boggy grass and rocks down some steep slopes back to Wasdale Head. I bathed my feet in the cold mountain stream before returning to the car park, where I sat on the grass eating a pineapple in the bright sunshine. I debated the merits of the 3-Peakers with a local elderly lady in the next car who had just finished her walk. Most locals think it’s gone too far and should be stopped or, at least, controlled. I think they add a lot of interest to what otherwise would be a remote valley, and hopefully bring in some revenue, but I’m not so sure about the latter since they’re in and out as fast as they can. In mid-afternoon I drove to Hard Knott Pass and walked to Hard Knott Fell before bedding down for the night.

WALK 33: AN ESKDALE MEDLEY & THE HEAD OF LANGDALE
Monday 15th August: I was woken at 5am by a car on the pass, probably the first vehicle since the previous night, so I got up and was walking just after 5.30, and I’ve got a photo of the sun rising above Wrynose Pass to prove it. The path to Harter Fell was non-existent, so I clambered over chopped down tree branches, bogs and tussocky grass and reeds until I reached a fence, which was at least a sign of human habitation. I followed the fence up a steep bank, and there were abundant ripe bilberries which were at a comfortable picking height on the steep slope, so breakfast was bilberries on the go. Harter fell has a dark rocky top with at least 4 peaks which are very prominent from the Scafell Range. My book said “Descend the main Eskdale track for a little way, but soon aim south-west down pathless ground to a waterlogged plateau.” Finding a path since the start was like finding an oasis in a desert, and just about as welcome. By the time I scaled Green Crag my feet were sodden again. Not the most inspiring walk, at least until I got into Hardknott Forest, which at least offered decent paths. I then drove to Langdale along the narrow twisting roads, had breakfast and set off up Pike o’Blisco. By now it was midday, the sun was beating down and the hillside sheltered me from the breeze, it was hot, sweaty work on the path alongside Red Acre Gill, particularly on a full stomach. By the time I’d reached the summit, intermittent cloud and a light breeze gave some rest-bite from the heat, but it was still warm on the next summit, Cold Pike. Next came Crinkle Crags and the Bad Step up to the true summit, then onto Bow Fell. Descending Bow Fell 3 walkers in fluorescent tops approached, looking shattered. One of them told me they’d set off at 5am at Pooley Bridge and were doing the Joss Naylor challenge. No wonder they looked shattered. They caught me up again on Esk Pike and said they were 20 minutes behind schedule to complete the challenge in 18 hours, but were catching up. It’s amazing what some people do, especially since they must have been all over 60. I walked the next section to Rossett Pike and back into Langdale with a chap from Leeds and his 11 year old daughter who were both speedy walkers. Next day was forecast to rain, so I headed home for an early night. Fortunately, the weather had held for 4 days, and in 3 nights camping (well, kipping in the back of the car actually, because both campsites in Wasdale were full, and there isn't a campsite on top of Hardknott Pass) and 4 days walking I managed to knock off 5 walks and the bigger of the 2 remaining bits before the weather broke. This left me with the 7 Coniston Fells, Lingmoor Fell and the Blencathra Group still to do, 201 down, 13 to go, and only 2 good days walking.

WALK 34: LINGMOOR & THE CONISTON FELLS
Saturday 21st August: Set off early with Adam and went up Lingmoor Fell before driving to Coniston. Fed £3 into a parking meter at Coniston Football Club car park, the first money I’d paid into a “Pay & display” meter in all the walks. I had paid a couple of times at Hartsop where the car park was free, but with a donation box to fund the local primary school. Hoards of walkers set out from Coniston, but as soon as we split off to Wetherlam we were on our own most of the way to the summit. It was almost 2 hours to the summit of Wetherlam, but the next 3 fells, Swirl How, Great Carrs and Grey Friar came fast. Wainrights are a bit like buses, it often takes a long time for the first to come along, then 3 or 4 come at once. The tops were in and out of cloud all day, and Adam went up to his shins in a bog on the way to Brim Fell, the 2nd one he’d found since we set out, and I think there must have been the only 2 in the whole rocky walk. On Brim Fell several orienteering teams were searching out their checkpoints and would criss-cross our path for the rest of the walk. Dow Crag was in cloud when we reached the summit, which was unfortunate, but the cloud had cleared by the time we reached The Old Man of Coniston, with its spectacular views. It was my last lifetime Wainwright, since I’d done all 5 fells in walk 35 in the last 18 months. I know someone else who’s last Wainwright was The Old Man of Coniston. Mind you, it was also her first, after hiking up there she said “Never again!” After I put that photo of me on the website on The Old Man of Coniston, who said “He sure is.” Cheeky!

WALK 35: THE BLENCATHRA GROUP & FINAL COUNTDOWN
Sunday 29th August: For my final walk I fixed a date and invited my sponsors to join me on this relatively short local walk of 11 miles and 5 final fells. You should have heard the feeble excuses, “Sorry, would love to, but I’ll be in Australia or America on 29th. Seriously, I was delighted that Emma and Frank agreed to join me, as well as Adam. The mountain weather forecast was for “50 mile an hour winds, with a wind chill factor taking temperatures down to minus 6” and it was the height of summer. Unfortunately, it was accurate, at least as far as the wind was concerned, and we were just about blown off our feet on Souther Fell – only 4 to go. What’s more, there’s no place to hide up there, so it was just a matter of head down and get off as fast as possible. Once we found respite from the wind, Emma said she was on the verge of turning back at one stage. The wind dissuaded us from going over Sharp Edge, so we used the path to the south of Scales Tarn to scale Blencathra – 3 left. After all, Sharp Edge will still be there another day, but we may not have been if the wind had gusted over 50mph like on Souther Fell. As it happened, Foule Crag offered shelter from the wind, so it was negotiable, as other later walkers proved. Never mind, Sharp Edge isn’t a Wainwright. Then down to Mungrisedale Common, where 3 walkers in the distance were yomping across the bog towards the “summit”. They stopped short, and I imagine the conversation went something like this: “Is that Mungrisedale Common?”, pointing at the cairn in the bog. “No, it can’t be, Wainwright wouldn’t be so stupid to make that flat bog a Wainwright, would he?” “Let’s go and find it somewhere else.” They then diverted up Foule Crag, well short of Mungrisedale Common – just 2 to go, but at least Adam, Emma and Frank had bagged a new Wainwright. Next onto Bannerdale Crags (only 1 remaining now), where I met Andrew Taylor, an ex employee of Innovia, and his wife who live in Wigton, out for a windy Sunday afternoon walk. Finally onto Bowscale Fell, the 214th and final Wainwright. Despite the weather, I’d succeeded in completing all the Wainwrights in less than 3 months, a worthy challenge for me, at least. Bowscale Tarn was included in The Grand Tour at the end of the 19th century, alongside places like Florence and Venice, when upper class people would visit some of the celebrated places in Europe. So, if it was good enough for the upper class Victorian ladies in their peticoats, at the start of the last century, then its associated fell was fine as my final Wainwright. I ventured to the side of the fell for a photo opportunity with the tarn below. If I’d had flaps under my arms, I could have taken off in the strong wind and hovered above the tarn. That would have been something to see! This was the only walk I didn’t do in shorts, but Frank wore shorts. Mind you, he is a Scot who wears a kilt at hogmanay at the hootenanny in Edinburgh’s cold midnight air, so today was positively tropical to him.

SUMMARY

I intend to have as many new experiences in retirement as I can cram into an ever diminishing lifetime, and while I’m still capable. New experiences from my first challenge have been:
1. The first time I’ve ever raised money from physical exercise. It had to be a significant challenge if I was to ask people to donate their hard earned money.
2. My first ever website
3. Completed all the Wainwright fells
In addition, I’ve met lots of interesting people on the fells and have a much better understanding of the geography of the Lake District, so when people talk about, for instance, Greenup Edge, or Gatesgarth Pass, I can visualize them, as well as know where they are. I was always going to complete the Wainwrightsin my lifetime, but I can now help Karen to complete them, by using sensible routes that she can manage. There were only 3 reasons why I may have failed, ill health, injury or bad weather. Whilst I had minor skirmishes with the first 2, the weather was fantastic in June, but the pits in July and August. The forecast seemed to be constant for 2 months, “good weather is 3 days away”, and it remained 3 days away throughout July and August, until it eventually arrived on 30th August. Not a single person in the UK would have bet that the first “blocking high pressure” of summer would arrive on 30th August, A BANK HOLIDAY. Bank holidays are notorious for lousy weather, it shows just how unpredictable summer weather is in the UK. After a good start it was frustrating waiting for good weather days, and getting sodden feet, blown away, freezing cold, lost on the fells in cloud or all 4. Sometimes fell walkers wonder why they bother, but the good days make up for it all.

Wainwright would have been horrified with the thought of anyone walking all of his beloved fells in 3 months (let alone the 7 days that Joss Naylor took), he always believed in taking time to savour the moment. In fact he would be turning in his grave (or at least caused unpredictable ripples on Innominate Tarn where AW’s ashes were scattered, close to Haystacks, his favourite fell) to see what his guide-books have done to the fells, made them far more popular than he could ever have imagined. Instead, he should be enormously proud of his achievements, which has allowed people from across the world to share the pleasure that he enjoyed in the natural wonders of one of the most beautiful and spectacular places on earth, the English Lake District.

That reminds me of a true story, that’s a bit stranger than fiction. A few years ago there was a proposal to rename Innominate Tarn as Wainwrights Tarn, a move that I’m not so sure Alf would have approved. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Copeland Council, after much debate and time, eventually agreed. Then a more detailed survey decided the tarn was in Allerdale and not Copeland, so the proposal had to go before the Allerdale Council. Nothing has been heard of it since.

Now I can get my life back. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that, the last Brit who said that was vilified by Barak Obama and the American people. Still, I wouldn’t mind the Golden Goodbye that Tony Hayward got from BP, and he hasn’t even left.

Finally, remember the good work that the Lake District Mountain Rescue Teams do, all from donations and without financial reward. Not only do they save many lives on the fells every year, but they also help in other local emergencies. Examples in the past 12 months have included the devastating floods in Cockermouth and Keswick last November, the horrific Keswick School bus crash in May and the mass shootings by Derrick Bird in June. Please be as generous as you can without breaking the bank.