Flat out in a Popular

The four kilometre stretch on the A65 from Settle South Roundabout to Long Preston sports bends that boy-racers and born-again-middle-aged motor cyclists may dream of, and for me, an erstwhile boy-racer, there is particular nostalgia.

In 1959 my employer unwisely provided me with a company car - a last of the line sit-up-and-beg Ford Popular before the monocoque chassis was introduced a year later. That last of the line model was unsafe before it left the showroom, with wayward steering, feeble brakes and a windscreen wiper working on air pressure that swept slower as the car travelled faster. There were only three gears - from time to time the gear lever would come out, free in my hand. 

I was the first car “owner” amongst my  climbing friends. We would drive up to Langdale on a Friday evening. With three passengers and four rucksacks stuffed into the boot the lid had to be left strapped partly open.

I discovered I could take all those four kilometres of bends without ever lifting my foot from the accelerator travelling at the car’s maximum speed of fifty-three miles per hour. In those days, travelling towards The Lakes, the next section went through Settle (now by-passed) and up the long hill of Buckhaw Brow. I can remember my father and uncles talking about Buckhaw, which, in their earlier days only gave them a fifty-fifty chance of avoiding a boiling radiator before reaching the summit.

Well, this week my Thursday walk with Pete was changed to Wednesday (favourable versus unfavourable forecasts). The objective was one of my two remaining Marilyns in Region 35 - Ilkley Moor. Pete was often one of the aforementioned passengers back in the 60s so we were on a mutual nostalgia trip as we headed down the A65.

We were able to drive to the end of a cul-de-sac road a kilometre from the trig on Ilkley Moor which was gained by a splendid level path of three foot square sandstone flags apparently lifted from the floors of Industrial Revolution Yorkshire woollen mills.

Back with the car and we took a tour round the edge of the moor for more nostalgia visiting the Cow and Calf rocks above Ilkley. Here we served our time learning to rock climb all those years ago. There is a dramatic vertical crag (The Cow) with an enormous boulder (the Calf) at its foot, the latter perched as if to set off to roll down the steep valley side into Ilkley at any moment. I always had a fantasy of making this happen - it would have been the all time greatest trundle.

By pre-arrangement we finished off by visiting my very good friend M who lives in Ilkley - she was also part of our old outdoory, jazz club Bradford group back in the 60s and we have remained friends ever since (my late wife was M’s best friend). M has always been an accomplished and inventive cook. She told us she had recently bought a cheese and onion pasty which lead her to think about the lack of imagination applied to fillings in such widely available items, and she decided to do her own thing. We were treated to a wonderful pasty filled with a mixture of high quality tuna, spinnach, onion and other ingredients - delicious, and that was followed by freshly baked, still warm, light and fluffy scones with a slight hint of lavender. 

I was given another pasty to bring home and that went down ever so well last night. Thanks M, that was a thoroughly enjoyable get together.

WORTH CLICKING TO ENLARGE

Spotted in Arnside recently - exactly the same, colour and all as my 1959 Ford Popular

My actual car circa 1959/60 - me and Pete stuffing in the rucksacks. A rare photo - not many cameras about in those days

On the way to Ilkley Moor trig

Cow and Calf rocks. The square notch, centre leads into The Quarry. The Cow is prominent righthand end. The Calf hidden by the righthand end of the white marquee below The Cow

In The Quarry

The Cow

The Calf. Ilkley below

BRORA MARILYNS SLIDESHOW

Here is the slideshow for my recent twelve day trip to Brora (north east coast Scotland).


CLICK HERE

Click on the first photo to continue as full screen slideshow.

More driving than walking

Wednesday 11th February - Long Barrow (Dent) - NY 041 129 - Marilyn

Daughter's car needed mending so I followed her to Kendal then took her to school at Barrow-in-Furness and continued dramatically over the Corney Fell road to Egremont. 

The Corney Fell road is a desperate 14 kilometre single-track short-cut for those travelling south or north in west Cumbria, and at the times when it coincides with  a shift change at Sellafield,* you  drive at your peril when radio active commuters turn it into the National Park version of the 1000 mile Mille Miglia road race (now defunct, and only once one by a non-Italian, Stirling Moss). Fortunately I travelled in between shift changes both ways.

I had naively thought that the dual named Long Barrow (or Dent) would be a quick dash from Barrow. But by the time I had arrived, seen, and conquered, and returned to Barrow with only minutes to spare to pick up daughter at the pre-arranged 3:30 I realised I had been deluded. By the time I got back home to Arnside (via Kendal again) I had driven 175 miles.

When I parked for the ascent I saw a sign indicating I was embarking on part of Wainwright's Coast to Coast which I walked in April 1990, and back home my research revealed that there would have been no alternative but to follow the C-to-C over the summit of Long Barrow, but being unsure about this on the spot, and in any case relishing the thought of a walk and some fresh air I made the ascent, and whilst now I have no doubt I had been there before, I hadn't the slightest recollection of the terrain.

This was a pleasant walk through woods and then on to the open fell, but cloud was down and I saw almost nothing of the view. For those interested in what I might have seen, including apparently, the Isle of Man see Wainwright's description below which I hope you may just be able to read, but even better if you click to enlarge. 

Long Barrow (Dent) summit

* With acknowledgement to Wikipedia, and included here for the staggering, supposed fact revealed in the final paragraph.

Sellafield is a nuclear reprocessing site, close to the village of Seascale on the coast of the Irish Sea in Cumbria, England. The site is served by Sellafield railway station. Sellafield incorporates the original nuclear reactor site at Windscale, which is currently undergoing decommissioning and dismantling, and Calder Hall, another neighbour of Windscale, which is also undergoing decommissioning and dismantling of its four nuclear power generating reactors.

The total cost of decommissioning, which will be borne by UK taxpayers, is now considered to be in excess of £100.1 bn.^[1]

More Marilynitis

Tuesday 10th Feb 

I log Marilyn ascents on The Harold Street Hill bagging  website. Initially I logged all my Munros, many of which also counted as Marilyns, and since all lists are interactive all my Munro Marilyns automatically appeared on the Marilyn list, and on many other lists I suspect - there are over 70 different hill lists for the UK on this site!

I am currently listed at number 81 on the All Hills list with 507 ascents. I could rise up that list by entering ascents of many other hills that I have climbed that do not qualify as Munros or Marilyns. I am listed as number 35 for Marilyns.

At the moment I am trying to complete all the Marilyns that I consider to be within reasonable driving distance from home for a day's outing. That now leaves me with only four:

Mickle Fell - on an MOD firing range - only possible on certain weekends - next possible 7/8March

Burnhope Seat - NY 785 375

Ilkley Moor - SE 114 452

Melbreak - Lake District -NY 148 186

There are 176 Marilyns in England (excluding Wales) and I now need 45 to complete those. Unfortunately there are a few that were missed on my south of England trip in 2013 including one at Folkestone.

Marilyns (excluding all of Ireland) total 1556 -I have now climbed 364 (23%).

On Tuesday I drove east from M6 Jct. 43 into the wilds to do Cold Fell (NY 605 556). I was taking a gamble on the weather and it remained grey low cloud all day, but no rain. From Forest Head a gradually diminishing track lead to a col then it was two kilometres of deep heather patched with soft snow pockets making for difficult going, and some clever compass work returning from the summit to get back to the faint termination of the track. On the last bearing I headed as indicated by the compass for perhaps half a kilometre then stopped to regroup and found I was exactly on the path - very satisfying.

PLEASE CLICK TO ENLARGE AS SLIDESHOW

Lime kiln on the way to Cold Fell

This kind of dereliction has a fascination for me

Cold Fell lies high up in that cloud and off to the right.

Looking back. The road in photo no. 3 can be seen if you click to enlarge

Cold Fell summit. It lived up to its name

Advice

It is rare for my advice to be in demand but Gimmer was house hunting. I was invited to a viewing so I could give a second opinion.

Selfishly I looked at the location on the map and saw it was  close to one of my remaining five Marilyns in Area 35 - Dufton Pike.

The viewing was interesting  enhanced by history of previous occupants including a bishop. We were shown round by a neighbour who had been employed as a sort of housekeeper manager for over forty years by various occupants. She was our initial source of history and also reminiscences about visitors to the attached coach house which provides a self catering venue, including memories of a celebrated journalist who had been a regular visitor. After that we had tea with the eighty-six year old refined lady owner who was recovering from a knee replacement operation, and she pleasantly entertained us with further stories.

The house was superbly located and full of character. There were issues, and having known Gimmer since schooldays I gave my honest opinion.

We made a steady  ascent of Dufton Pike by the south-east ridge finishing off in a long deep snow drift to arrive at the satisfyingly pointy summit. Cloud swirled and partially cleared intermittently giving fleeting views through windows into fairyland.

Descent down the north-west ridge and back along tracks above Great Rundale Beck completed our enjoyable circle.

Back in Dufton it was four o' clockish. At the Stag Inn a dangling sign on the door said "open". We tried the door to no avail then the landlord came, opened the door, and told us rudely that they didn't open until six, and when we pointed to the sign he said he had forgotten to change it then shut the door. He hadn't bothered to alter the sign.

In contrast we drove  to Appleby and sat in the comfortable lounge of the Tufton Arms Hotel, a quintessential, old established English inn catering mainly for the wealthy sporting gentry. Tea and lemon drizzle cake in such  relaxing surroundings made us reluctant to leave. I think of myself as a "doer", but the idea of booking in there for a week and "doing" nothing seemed appealing.

PLEASE CLICK FIRST PHOTO TO ENLARGE

Dufton Pike from the Pennine Way path just out of Dufton

Sir Hugh approaching the summit...
"last seen..."
Photo couretesy of Gimmer

The ravine of Great Rundale Beck. I visited there to find a geocache with Pete,  my Thursday walking pal, a few years ago and then to the trig point on the summit above.

As above but a bit more arty

The distant Lake District hills just visible (enlargement click is worthwhile)

Knock Pike

I owe my success to having listened respectfully to the very best advice, and then going away and doing the exact opposite. G. K. Chesterton

Kisdon

Early starts are my preference for walking days. Time in hand can be crucial to cover underestimation, navigational problems (euphemism for getting lost), stopping to explore, and minimising  time spent battling oncoming bad weather, and especially in winter  avoiding the sudden onset of darkness. There are many other potential reasons for delays.

On Sunday I was away at 8:00am to drive to Keld to tick off Kisdon, one of my remaining Marilyns in Region 35. The early start was well justified.

A few Sundays ago I climbed  Rogan's Seat from Keld, The past comes back to haunt , so I was familiar with the road route branching off the A684 (Sedbergh to Leyburn)  at Appersett over the fell road to Thwaite, then over Buttertubs to Keld.

I experienced more and more snow on the fell road, until, just after the summit I met a snow plough going north, The driver was unable to proceed and had radioed for a bigger beast. I returned, precariously to the A684 and onwards to Askrigg, then off up the fell road to Muker. After a mile I met a Land Rover coming the other way and was told the road was impassable. So I returned to the back road to Castle Bolton and then north again over the fell road to Grinton and Swaledale, and then west to Muker. I had intended to walk from Keld but parked in Muker and set off from there at 11:00am. It had taken me three hours. Afterwards the return journey, north via Kirkby Stephen took 1hr. 22 mins.

An old lane led part way up the hill to the farm at Kisdon with fairly heavy snow and further tracks then to the open hillside, and it was difficult to identify anything looking like a summit on the undulating terrain. I took a compass bearing and ploughed on through snow covered heather and eventually found the summit pillar. The return back through Keld and alongside the river Swale was all delight in the afternoon sun. This was a little classic round with scenery as good as anywhere in the UK.

PLEASE CLICK TO ENLARGE

The red line shows my extended road journey. Note the short distance between my turning point on Abbotside Common and Keld and Muker compared with the eventual distance to Muker

Red line shows my clockwise route starting at Muker. The brown dash line is my LEJOG route which still  remains on Memory Map on my computer. The green tent was a night stop on that route.

The tea shop and old school house in Muker. The sheep is really there (placed). Three year old granddaughter Katie saw the photo and said "He's looking at the view".
The plaque to the left commemorates Cherry Kearton - Google if you wish to know more.

 "In memory Of Cherry Kearton, naturalist author and explorer. Pioneer of wildlife photography. July 1871 - Sept. 1940. Educated at this school" 

The Pennine Way crosses my path to the summit

From high up on Kisdon. The red dotted line shows my route a few Sundays ago to Rogan's Seat

Kidson summit. Keld down in bottom behind the pillar

Afternoon sun following the River Swale back down to Muker

Looking back up the Swale towards Keld

The past comes back to haunt

I was all tucked up in bed last night, and instead of counting sheep I was going over my plan for the morrow (Sunday). The target was to climb Hoove (NZ  003 071), and if possible one of two other remaining Marilyns in Area 35 nearby: Rogan’s Seat (NY 919 030), and Kisdon, (SD 899 998).

Picturing the parking spot for Hoove that I had identified on the map, gradual familiarity took shape in my mind and I felt compelled to arise, go downstairs and research, which culminated in realisation that I had climbed Hoove with Pete about four years ago.

It was an awful day: heavy rain and visibility down to fifty yards. The going was horrid-pathless-peatbog, following a dreary boundary wall or fence, but I was obsessed about visiting all the trig points on that OS sheet (I was not addicted to Marilyns at that time). Looking back on it now I am ashamed that I dragged Pete along on such a joyless exercise, and even more so because on returning to the car I insisted on bagging another trig on the other side of the road further away than Hoove and over even worse terrain.

It is ironic that such a shameful incident has now given me another tick on the Marilyn list. 

So, that meant today could focus on the other two. I parked in Keld and marched off down to the river aiming for Rogan’s Seat and found myself on tracks common to the Pennine Way and the Coast to Coast both of which I walked over over thirty years ago, and I had no recollection of the scenery which to say the least is spectacular, especially with the weather contrasting totally with the Hoove episode.

Rogan’s Seat turned out to be a fairly strenuous eight mile round trip so there was no time left for Kisdon even though it is a  quickie from Keld, but it can be made into a very attractive longer walk which I hope to do soon and am looking forward to.

Another great day snatched in between dismal forecasts.

CLICK FIRST PICTURE TO ENLARGE

The track down to the River Swale from Keld - my summit was behind the centre horizon

Note the frost on the field - there were patches of ice everywhere

East Gill meets the Swale

Back to Keld

Remains of tractor strangely embedded in the track

The river Swale downstream from Keld

Old mine buildings - pity they were still just in shadow. My route followed a path along the top of that shadow

The unprepossessing summit of Rogan's Seat, but great views

"Have a nice day"

Some years ago, with my sadly, late good friend, and climbing partner Tony, I climbed in Spain along with local Spanish climbers. Tradition observed an accepted programme: starting with morning coffee, then climbing together during the day, and finishing off with a communal evening meal. Providing that programme was fulfilled they referred to it as El día completo. I liked this appreciation of the sport which demonstrates that its attraction derives from more than a narrow minded nerdish attention to achievements on the crag.

 
El día completo is of course appropriate to rock climbing because it is a multi-person pursuit (unless you are a nerveless devotee of E-grade soloing). Whilst I do enjoy the company of perhaps one or two others on the hills I also have my own version of El día completo.

At 8:45 am today, inspired by Blonde Two's daily post (The Two Blondes) which I regularly devour along with my breakfast, I decided, on a whim to make use of a clear-blue-sky-frosty-morning and depart for the Howgills.

My day-walk rucksack is by habit in the car, and a flask of coffee and some biscuits was all I needed. The car was fuelled, so no need for an irritating pit stop. At The Cross Keys, the setting off point for the eastern Howgills, I bagged the last parking spot in the small lay-by, and I was off following one or two people on the well trodden path to The Calf, the Howgill's highest peak, but before the steep climb started I left the herd and peeled off north ascending steeply on my own on pathless fellside aiming for the col between Ben End and Yarlside, the latter peak being my objective - it is one of my remaining unclimbed Marilyns in Area 35 of Dawson's Relative Hills of Britain which provided the original Marilyn listing. Whilst a chance meeting with fellow fellwalkers is fine it does add to the feeling of remoteness and adventure if you have the terrain to yourself, which I did today, but once above the col I was walking in fresh snow and saw that someone else had been ahead of me, although I saw nobody for the rest of the walk. From Yarlside summit I made an exciting steep descent on snow, and then down to the valley and back on a farm track and a short section of road to make a satisfying circuit. Walking along the road I looked up at the hills from the valley still sunlit, but the tops were wearing clouds  with intense blue sky above - it was like an upside down inversion.

I was back home by mid afternoon wallowing in a hot bath and finishing the evening with some half decent tele, a good meal and a glass or two of red.

WORTH CLICKING TO ENLARGE

The pink route is part of The Dales Highway - today's route = red dots. The scull and cross bones marker on Yarlside is the one I use on Memory Map to identify Marilyns

River Rawthey and Brant Fell just after leaving the car

Cautley Spout is the deep gash in the hillside - an ice climb venue when frozen where there have been fatal accidents

Back to the road running south to Sedbergh - yes that is a road reflecting the sun not the river

Yarlside ahead

From Yarlside summit

Red dots show my dicey steep descent from Yarlside

Northumberland and Scottish Borders slideshow

Here is the slideshow with captions of my recent trip to Northumberland and The Scottish Borders including eleven Marilyns.

Click on the Dropbox link then click on the first picture to see the rest as a slideshow.

CLICK HERE FOR SLIDESHOW

Holme Fell (Marilyn nr. Coniston)

A few years ago, I had a wonderful day in the Arrochar Alps with a good friend, Malcolm Lomas, aka Sol. We have known each other since the 50s. Sol is the eternal optimist, an ideal companion on the hill and the the safest guy in the world for rock climbing. He always sees the patch of blue sky before anybody else, and I have always respected his judgement. 

On that crisp, cloudless blue sky day, with snow cover on the tops I remember having that pleasantly satiated feel after seven hours and anticipating relaxation back at the caravan, and then Sol... "It's great isn't it. You just don't want to go down do you?" Sol was always ready for more.

Another time we used mountain bikes for a couple of Munros. Returning to the car after a strenuous day Sol opted to cycle the six miles back to the caravan leaving me to come back by car.

Sunday had a similar feel. My commenter Gimmer is another old friend. We go back further than Sol to our school and scout troop days. List ticking is aired from time to time here. I unashamedly wanted to finish my four remaining Lake District Marilyns and suggested Holme Fell. It can be assumed from the six hours we took compared with a less than one and half  hour there-and-back dash I had read about, that our motives were more focused on enjoyment than list ticking on such a glorious day.

As you turn up to Tilberthwaite from the Coniston road the rocky south west prow of Holme Fell is dominant. I have always thought it would make a good scramble and we were half considering this, but we opted for an easier route.

On Sunday I had that "...just don't want to go down" feeling.

Bog Ashpodel

I am particularly drawn to heather - seems a bit early here?
Langdale Pikes at skyline - see next shot for zoom to pikes

Holme Fell summit. Windermere in background

On the way back

My speculation re scramble was enacted. We saw a couple high up on the face after our ascent. There seemed to be one pitch marginally justifying the rope which is shown here. I think that I was on 21 x zoom. I am well pleased with this performance of the Panasonic TZ40

They are just finishing the pitch shown above. I have reversed the order of these two pics. to fit my narrative