VE DAY

I have just watched the BBC VE Day programme from 9:00 pm and the following programme. They included emotional music,  much previously unseen film, many very personal and touching stories, and two remarkably well put together programmes considering the present situation and the time available to put it all together. For most of the time I have been sat there with tears running down my face (literally) and I have never before had an experience to affect me over a whole two hour period in such away.

I was only five and a half years old on VE Day but I have intermittent memories of WW2 and more of its aftermath, and more vividly of VJ day a few months later. Tonight my tears were caused for a melange of reasons. I single out one only which  illustrates the sacrifice and scale of what happened. A guy of nineteen was married and went off to WW2 only two days later and didn't come back until six years later - SIX YEARS, AND HIS WIFE WAS STILL WAITING FOR HIM. That's how long all the population and armed  services suffered beyond belief - just take a moment and think about the time scale.  And today we are hearing of people whingeing about having to abide by some simple rules for a few weeks, in particular I mean those who are selfishly flouting the rules who should be thankful they were ever born. I do not include the many people who are facing undoubted genuine hardship.

I think what has upset me most is that the World seems to have learnt nothing with persistent global famines, no global willpower to combat climate change and environmental destruction and much more that I dare not say about the responsibility of many so called religions for fuelling irrational animosity.

Fairy Steps 2 and Answer to Rum Quiz.

Tuesday 5th May 2020 (Day 41 of Lockdown)

Resulting from my woeful lack of memory on my last post, exchanges have been made between me and Big Brother. The post was titled Fairy Steps. There is also a rock climb of the same name in the Quarry at the Cow and Calf, Ilkley where some of my first climbing took place with Big Brother. 

At a guess it was about 1957.  I was on a climb to the right of Fairy Steps when I heard a thunderous crashing. Big Brother had been halfway up Fairy Steps and a huge chunk of rock had detached and fallen into the chimney on the right taking BB with it and half burying him. I know some injury was sustained but not serious - this must have been one of the luckiest escapes ever.

The photo below was taken before the rockfall. I'm not sure which of the two lumps I have circled was the one that fell. I am pretty certain they have both gone now. I don't know who took the photo or how I came by it. I am fairly sure that is me handling the rope at the top.

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Answer to Gimmer's Rum question

I have received the answer below from Gimmer. I have highlighted the short answer to the question. If you read on there is more related information and explanation of the additional clues that were given. I think I would have been hard pressed to find the answer, but for anybody who had read the book - easy peasy.

The account below came from a MAC doc. file that had been converted into a PDF so that I could open it not having the up to date version of Apple's Pages. I have tried to format the text alignment

which is usually easy enough by applying the "remove formatting" tool and then starting again but I couldn't do any better than you see with this one.

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Answer - the view of Rum from Gortenfern beach , near Arisaig - which has well-known 'Singing Sands' . . . but these 'Singing Sands' are not, however, the singing sands referred to in a scribbled note in the Stop Press panel of the London paper which was in the hand of a man found murdered on the night train from London when it arrived in Inverness - in the novel of that name by Josephine Tay, who died in 1952 - on the same day as HM King George VI - which was published posthumously. Inspector Grant, who picked up the paper and found the verse, on his way to a recuperation sojourn in the Highlands, began to try to unravel the mystery - going to the Outer Isles to see if he could get clues from an area with singing sands - or its inhabitants - but little was gained - eventually, in London , he traced a convoluted path to a long lost 'paradise' oasis in the Arabian desert - with this verse being the leitmotif of the 'journey' - marked by treachery, greed and murder.

The story was found in her papers - it probably needed a bit of tidying up , particularly towards the end, but it is a good tale and a good example of this very satisfying author's work.

For many, this view of Rum form the eastern end of the Ardnamurchan peninsular is 'spectacular' (as are most, of course, but this one is special - not a overt as many , but coyly revealing the island and its peaks) - from low down on the shallow, gently sloping beach, the island appears to be rising up out of the waves that sweep across the bay, the long ridge of Eigg not intruding so much as from higher views (earth's curvature - or just lost in the waves) - in fact it seems to make the peaks of Rum seem to float higher, more distantly and more enticingly, particularly against the setting sun: the view looks directly up Glen Dibidil , with Askival and Allival on the right, and the rounded masses of Anshivall and Sgurr nan Gillian, very different from its Syke namesake, on the left - all making the perfect picture - of a magical island and perfect peaks.

In the mind's eye, the old song comes to life - astride the thwarts of the boat, ' with 'Eigg on the bow, and Rum on the port', carrying the boy "born to be King" ' , sailing from this very quarter ! But back to the question. The connection is , as you would expect, both tortuous and contrived : the verse goes the singing sands the streams that walk the beasts that talk that bar the way to paradise as as for the additional clues source dividing the birthplace of a bitter-sweet confection - River Tay runs through Dundee - where the first marmalade was made desert trading post - recently rediscovered lost fort and fertile oasis near the Saudi/Omani borderlands, apparently once famous for gold and frankincense, said to have been deep in the vast dunes of that desert, which still cause weird and frightening music-like sounds in the high winds of desert storms, that blow both sand and water into wild gyrating shapes , drive animals into hysterical howls and growling - easy to see the springs of the verse

the connections are obvious when you know the answer !

Fairy Steps

Saturday 2nd. May 2020 (Day 38 of Lockdown) - Fairy Steps circuit - 5 miles plus.

The first photo was taken lazily from sitting in my armchair looking east a couple of days before this walk. I can sit there and watch all kinds of bird activity in the air and birds perching on the rooftops. The chimney that sticks up partly obscures my view of Ingleborough twenty miles away on the horizon, and I can also just see Whernside.

The cloud formation was more dramatic than the photo shows but I get much pleasure from this ever-changing view.

Having walked to the south-west all over Arnside Knott territory for the last few days I decided to head east and re-visit Fairy Steps. That sprang from Bowland Climber reminding me of my last visit with his friend Mel who sadly died a few days ago after a longish period of poor health. I have tried to pinpoint the date both from my blog and BC's without success but it was probably a couple of years ago - I'm sure BC will remember.

Fairy Steps is a limestone crag at the top of the path from Arnside over to Beetham, and is on the route of the long distance Limestone Link path from Arnside to Kirkby Lonsdale. Legend has it that this was one of those tracks over which coffins were hauled. This one involves a tight squeeze through a gap in the crag and some of the iron rings remain used for ropes to manhandle the coffins which at least gives a bit more authentication to the story than other similar old tracks over the hills.
I have a fantasy that on occasions the old villeins got fed up with heaving their burdens about on steep paths and decided to opt for cremation halfway?*

I set off from home which is another few hundred yards away from the start shown on the map below. There are now noticeably more people about. I took a few photos up to and including the squeeze through Fairy Steps then found the camera battery had expired.

CLICK FIRST PHOTO TO ENLARGE ALL

Up the line towards Arnside station

Fairy Steps is in the tiny gap in the trees on the horizon

This and below - Hazelslack Tower 14th Century

A long climb through these woods on a rugged limestone path to get to Fairy Steps

Fairy Steps

Anti-clockwise

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*That reminded me of model aeroplane flying with my son years ago. A well known figure on the scene owned a model shop in the North and he had a friend who owned one in the South. They were both struggling financially. By "coincidence" both shops went up in flames on the same night - the police computer had a wobbler. Jimmy did a spell at her Majesty's pleasure. When we came to hear about him he had a huge four engined model of a Lancaster bomber, and to be fair he had raised lots of money for charity flying it at model shows, but it was not uncommon as folk passed by at these shows to hear them calling out "Have you got a light Jimmy?"

Sunset on the Knott.

Monday 27th April 2020 (Day 34 of Lockdown)

First of all a bit of a rant.

New guidance from the Government to the College of Policing suggests it may be ok to drive for exercise if the driving takes less time than the exercise. We all know with common sense what that means but the loose way it is worded could lead to misinterpretation. Some may take advantage: "Well, I'm going to drive to John 'o Groats and walk to Land's End." Apart from"intelligent idiots" flouting the spirit of the advice others, even more idiotic, will take it literally as has happened in the USA with people believing Trump that drinking disinfectant may eliminate C.

Responsible administrators should be able to express themselves more explicitly to avoid this kind of misunderstanding and we should expect better from them than this.

Here is a no-nonsense article from the British Mountaineering Council written with the kind of clarity that seems to be lacking from other sources.

New guidance from the College of Policing, which was widely reported last week, seemed to suggest that it was possible to drive for a short time in order to exercise for a longer time. With no definition of what this exercise means, does this now mean that driving for 20 mins (for example) to go bouldering (for instance) is lawful? We think this is not necessarily the case.

This new guidance does not change the regulations: it appears to only apply to England and is aimed at advising police forces on how police officers should be enforcing the law on the ground.  Ultimately, it will be down to police officers and the courts on what they deem to be a ‘reasonable excuse to not be at home’, as stated in the regulations. As with any new laws, until tested at a court, and case law is established, the nuances of interpretation are unclear.

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On a recent post my commenter Gimmer set us a puzzle and I have been asked by one or two people if we can have the answer. It seems that I and my friends and acquaintances here do not move in the same esoteric milieu as the members of the Round Britain Quiz team back in 1952.

Here's a question from an edition of Round Britain Quiz from 1952: what has one of the best views of Rum not got to do with the night sleeper to Inverness ?(NB Sir Hugh is disbarred from answering)

Can we have the answer please Gimmer?

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I keep trying to find variations on the daily routine that I have now established, so instead of signing off to TV from the Six 'o Clock News onwards I checked the time of sunset and set off up the Knott. I arrived at the best viewpoint about five minutes before the sun disappeared behind the ridge of hills across the bay. I was surprised at how quickly the disappearance happened but I did get one or two shots first then to more surprise I realised that there was still interesting light for more worthwhile shots. I only have a point and shoot compact and wasn't using a tripod so I had no great expectations but was modestly pleased with the results. One thing I noticed when looking at the photos back home was the fact that I had not been holding the camera level which is much more obvious when you have extensive shoreline in a photo and I have had to spend some time "free rotating" with Photoshop Elements to prevent all the our local water running back out into Morecambe Bay.

Click first photo to enlarge for slideshow

Poem - Exploration (2)

After a few suggestions from a couple of friends I have rewritten the poem and there is a Dropbox link at the bottom if you want to hear me reading it.

Exploration

My road from home stretches,

Like an airstrip long abandoned from their war

And now unpeopled until,

Way ahead man and dog approach,

And switch kerbs with marked intention:

Two ships avoiding collision on the sea.

Just a manoeuvre avoiding the unseen,

“Social Distancing” it is called.

We pass at regulation distance

Swapping our pleasantries, a sort of code,

To say,

“We are all in this together” 

And must obey.

The cemetery gates are locked,

Joe wouldn’t have approved.

Sadly he recently passed that way.

Right at the Cemetery onto the limestone path.

Climb towards the Knott.

Years away on distant tracks

Kept me from this home terrain.

New paths abound, and now I can pretend

I am exploring happily again.

Listen. A new kind of silence, 

Then exuberant birdsong interrupts, 

And squirrels scamper tamely under trees,

As unaccustomed peace and sunshine’s warmth

Nurture the springtime urge.

The path is steeper, breath comes harder, 

As I  push to gain some form.

This now becomes my war as I reach the Knott,

But am I really going to get the chance

To explore again without pretence 

Far away from home?

https://www.dropbox.com/s/o6xoinz3e77ofh7/Exploring2.m4a?dl=0

Heroes.

Afootinthehills who comments here asked me to publish details of the Hamish McInnes/Ian Clough snow and ice course I attended in Glencoe back in 1969 after I had alluded to that event after watching a fascinating documentary last night on BBC Scotland - First Ascent. The programme was a self narration by Hamish McInnes detailing his life. I highly recommend it - I think it should still be available on iPlayer or whatever.

Hamish is a renowned Scottish rock climber and was also a pivotal member on several very serious Himalayan expeditions. He is a seminal equipment designer re-defining the design of ice climbing equipment and laying the foundations of modern day Mountain Rescue including the design of the standard stretcher which I think is still being used today. 

Ian Clough was known to me slightly as a fellow member of the Yorkshire Mountaineering Club back in the 60s snd his younger brother Peter was in my form at Bradford Grammar School. Ian was another professional climber who teamed up with Hamish in Glencoe and they did many first ascents together. Ian was, and I don't say this lightly, one of the nicest people I have met during my life. Unfortunately Ian was killed on the last day of the Bonnington Annapurna expedition (1970) by a collapsing ice serac.

The doings of these two and their contemporaries in British rock climbing, and alpine and Himalayan epics are legendary to a monumental degree - just have look at Wikipedia.

So, by chance, years ago I started writing up details of my own modest doings and have been able to lift the relevant stuff about my 1969 few days in Glencoe with these two legends.

Heroes

I suppose most people would choose their heroes from the ranks of the famous, and they would never know them personally, and it may well be a great disappointment if that were to happen, but I include one or two here, I hope with sufficient justification. First of all I want to recall an event in 1969 which produced a clear hero for me, and taught me something else I have never forgotten.

The event was a snow and ice climbing course in Glencoe run by Hamish McInnes and Ian Clough which ran over a period of a few days. There were about eight of us on the course, and I now only remember three in particular. We all assembled at, and stayed in a bunkhouse in Glencoe. At that time I was twenty nine years old. I drove to this event in my Volkswagen 1300 Beetle, and picked up a hitchhiker on the side of Loch Lomond, who turned out to be heading for the same course. This guy was a few years younger than me. Although it is not relevant to this story, coming round a bend in the road we came across an accident. An elderly lady had been driving from the opposite direction, and her car was upside down on the side of the road. Other people were already in attendance and help had been called, and the lady was not injured, but I was amused because she kept saying repeatedly,

“I wasn’t going too fast was I?”

My hitchhiker was a trifle arrogant, and I did not particularly take to him, but he did convey that he was an experienced climber of some ability. At the bunkhouse the next person who remains in the memory was another even younger lad who seemed to be clumsy and inept, but always willing to do more than his share of work, and make brews for everybody. I don’t think he did this to curry favour – he was just a decent sort of guy. The third person was a small fiftyish guy who turned out to be a bank manger and had no previous climbing experience at all - my immediate thoughts were that hewas too old and would prove to be a liability on the hill.*

There was not really enough snow and ice for the purposes of the course, and on the first day we were sent off on a navigation exercise across some wilderness in foul weather.

The second day we were taken up into The Lost Valley in Glencoe to do a mixed snow and rock climb which Hamish said was a second ascent. We ascended a steep snow gully, then broke out onto the righthand rock wall which was sparsely snow adorned. Halfway up this wall the young inept one lost one of his crampons, arising,I suppose, from not having properly strapped them which was predictable from previous observation of this character. We watched as the crampon fell down our previously climbed snow gully for about a hundred feet. We all knew that somebody would have to retrieve it, and everybody seemed to hesitate, and nobody wanted to volunteer, but unnoticed at first, the fiftyish “old” inexperienced bank manager had unroped and set off - he retrieved the item in a competent and modest manner, and I think we all felt a bit ashamed that we had held back and let this chap do the business.

At the end of this day my hitchhiker was muttering that the course was not hard enough. The next morning we assembled to meet Hamish and Ian. I saw Ian beckon to the hitchhiker and they went off together, and the rest of us went off up Bidean nam Bian with Hamish. I suspect Ian took that guy up some desperate climb and scared the hell out of him. All I know is that he was very quiet and subdued for the rest of the time.

My hero of course was the bank manager. The lesson I learnt, which I know is a cliché, is never to judge people on first acquaintance, and I have tried to abide by this ever-since. I am not saying that first impressions are always wrong or right, but it is always worth taking a step back and observing before making radical judgements.

* Pereception of age I now realise is proportional to one's own age at the time!

Exploration

Exploration.

My road from home stretches,
An airstrip long abandoned from the war.
Unpeopled.
But no!

Way ahead man and dog approach, 

They switch kerbs, declared intention

Before I get the chance - like two boats

Ensuring no collision.
But no impending danger here,

Just  a manoeuvre, avoiding the unseen.

“Social distancing"  it’s called. 

We pass at regulation measure but

Swap our pleasantries, a sort of code

To say we know  "we are all in this together." 

The Cemetery Gates are locked - Joe wouldn't have approved,

Sadly, he recently passed that way.

Right at the Cemetry onto the limestone path.

Climb towards the Knott.

Recent years on other tracks kept me from this home terrain.

New paths abound, and now I can pretend
Exploration replaces this well known trail.

Listen! A new kind of silence, 

But more than normal birdsong interrupts, and

Squirrels scamper tamely under trees,

As unaccustomed peace and sunshine’s warmth
Nurture the springtime urge.

The path is steeper, breath comes harder, 

I  push to gain some form.
But am I really going to get the chance

To explore for real again far away from home?