Category: Mountain Training (page 1 of 2)

Quality Mountain Days 19 & 20: Sharp Edge and Hayeswater Gill

Note: This completes the twenty Quality Mountain Days (QMDs) required to book myself on a a Mountain Leader course!


This weekend, I’ve once again been over to the Lake District to get in a couple of walks. There were two differences this time around, other than walking up mountains I haven’t attempted before:

  1. My ribs still weren’t right from the previous weekend at Scout camp and I’m still on a cocktail of painkillers.
  2. I was accompanied by Tom Broughton, who I picked up at Penrith train station.

QMD 19: Sharp Edge, Blencathra, and Bowscale Fell

Tom was kind enough to send through some suggested routes from a book he had. I adapted one of these to create this route for our walk on Saturday (QMD 19):

QMD 19 (planned)
QMD 19 (planned)

We left the car near Mungrisdale, and walked clockwise up Souther Fell, and then up to Scales Tarn. Tom fancied a dip, so he stripped down to his underwear and dived in!

Tom swimming in Scales Tarn
Tom swimming in Scales Tarn

After lunch, we walked up the path you can see behind the tarn, up Sharp Edge. Tom enjoys scrambling, and I appreciated the challenge! We made it up though, and in a slight deviation from the original plan, then headed over to Blencathra.

Scrambling up Sharp Edge
Scrambling up Sharp Edge

It was a pretty straightforward walk from Blencathra over to Bowscale Fell, and then down back to the pub and then to the car.

Foxglove near the end of our steep descent down from Bowscale Fell

The main challenges on this walk were our health. I was struggling a little with my ribs, and Tom hadn’t done much since injuring his knee last year. Although it turned out to be a walk of about six hours, but one which we were just pleased to complete!

QMD 20: Hayeswater Gill, The Knott, and High Street

At YHA Patterdale on Saturday night, Tom and I planned out our route for the next day. He was keen to do some scrambling, and we identified a particular one up a waterfall just up from Hartsop that looked interesting.

QMD 20 (planned)

From there, we planned to go up The Knott, and then down High Street and around to Stony Cove Pike.

Given Tom had a booked train to catch, we gave ourselves the option of going down Pasture Bottom instead. In the end, because we spent a good deal of time going up Hayeswater Gill, that’s exactly what we did.

Relaxing in a waterfall pool after scrambling up Hayeswater Gill

The scramble up Hayeswater Gill was challenging in places, and I slipped over once onto my knees, and saw my sunglasses float away down a narrow channel. Thankfully, Tom managed to retrieve them, and it was mainly my pride that was hurt.

Tom convinced me to have a dip in a pool created by a waterfall near the top of Hayeswater Gill. The water was freezing, but the experience nevertheless glorious.

Hayeswater
Hayeswater

The ascent up from Hayeswater up The Knott was pretty steep, but worth it when we got to the top. We then walked across to Thornthwaite Crag where there is a beacon.

Tom at the top of Thornthwaite Crag
Tom at the top of Thornthwaite Crag

We stopped for something to eat, but there were lots of midges about, so we ate quickly and started the steep descent towards Pasture Bottom.

The walk along the river and back to the car was a little bit boggy, but relatively unproblematic. Tom and I talked about life, the world, and… co-ops, actually.

When we got back to the car, I stripped off and had a quick rinse in the river before getting changed. We found a pub, sunk a pint, and headed to Penrith to drop Tom in time for his train. I’d definitely go for a walk with him again, as he was good company, and challenged me to do stuff I wouldn’t have otherwise done!

Next steps

The Mountain Training website lists a number of organisations that run Mountain Leader courses. It’s a six-day course, and it looks like I’ve got a couple of options:

  • All in one go: take a week off work and do six days in one go in a single location
  • Split weekends: do three weekends spread over a few months, in three different locations

The second option is most appealing to me, but can’t make any of the options this year. So it looks like potentially May 2020.

In the meantime, I’ll probably get in some bonus QMDs just in case, and sign up for the Mountain Training Candidate Management System so I can officially log all of the walks I’ve recorded on my blog!

Quality Mountain Days 17 & 18: Skiddaw, Great Calva, High Pike, and Carrock Fell

Note: I’m near to completing the twenty Quality Mountain Days (QMDs) required to book myself on a a Mountain Leader course.


I’m sitting writing this in our garden in the blazing sunshine. In front of me, my tent, which I only put up again to dry out about 10 minutes ago, is ready to be put away.

A day only counts as a QMD if you do something that takes you out of your comfort zone a bit. So, if you go up the same mountain by the same route a couple of times, it only counts as one QMD. This time, I thought I’d throw some camping into the mix.

I haven’t been camping by myself before, ever. To ease myself in gently, I thought I’d camp outside a hostel, although to add a bit of spice I thought I’d make it Skiddaw House, the highest hostel in Britain.

As a result, I had to carry my tent, sleeping bag, and other equipment I’d need for an overnight stay, to the hostel. I planned my routes accordingly:

QMD 17

On the first day, I’d planned to walk up from the public car park next to the Blencathra Field Centre, leave my large rucksack, and then do a circular route around Helvellyn while carrying my smaller rucksack. On the second, I planned to walk to High Pike, come back to Skiddaw House and pack up my tent, and then head back down to the car.

Setting off towards Skiddaw House

Neither went as planned, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, unlike Santa Claus, when I make a list I have a habit of forgetting to check it twice. As a result, I didn’t take my gaiters or walking poles. Second, the routes I’d planned weren’t really long enough.

View from near the top of Skiddaw

As a result, on the first day, after ascending Sale How and Skiddaw, I amended my route to also head up Little Calva and Great Calva. After a very steep ascent up Dry Gill, a few spots of rain turned into a downpour and, despite putting on my waterproofs, I got absolutely soaking. Trudging down through the heather back to Skiddaw House wasn’t an enjoyable experience.

The rain coming in as I ascended Great Calva

Although I tracked my route using my smartwatch, I kept forgetting to press ‘continue’ after any short rests or breaks. As a result, I’ve only got the first four hours of data for the QMD 17, but I was definitely out for over five hours in total!

Altitude over the first four hours of QMD 17

That night, after pitching my tent on wet ground in the rain, I went inside and spent a very enjoyable evening making dinner, conversing with those staying in the hostel itself, and drinking whisky.

Skiddaw House

When I reluctantly headed out to my tent, it rained until midnight, but according to my stats, I did manage to get some deep sleep in before waking at 05:30.

QMD 18

The next morning, I went into the hostel for breakfast and to get changed. Given how wet my tent was, I left it up to dry out as best it could, made some lunch, and started striding out towards High Pike.

Heading out for QMD 18

My boots gave me some problems on this trip. They’re about 12 years old, and so had many pairs of insoles. Unfortunately, while the most recent gel insoles I’d purchases are comfortable, the bottom of them have lost all stickiness, meaning they roll around my boot. I kept having to stop to sort them out and, indeed, I’ve got a few blisters.

Walking along a river

Towards the end of last year, I gave up drinking coffee as part of my daily routine. I discovered that it was correlated with me getting migraines. What I had found, however, was that Lucozade, coffee, and other caffeine-based stimulants, seemed fine when I was doing any kind of exercise (like walking).

High Pike

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time around. After dragging myself up High Pike, I decided to head towards Carrock Fell, as we’d talked about the remnants of an Iron Age hill fort there the previous evening. It was extremely windy. I was struggling a bit. A fell runner nonchalantly ran past me.

Carrock Fell

I kept on plugging away when the tell-tale signs of migraine started to appear; that little coloured shimmer that appears in the corner of your eye and starts working its way over. I took one of my Rizatriptan tablets and drank plenty of water. I made it to the top of Carrock Fell, and flopped into a little circular shelter made of stones.

Sheltering at the top of Carrock Fell

By this point, I knew that this was going to be a longer walk than I’d planned, so I tried to shave some time off by traversing the side of Carrock Fell and making my way down to the path. In my migrainey state, I tripped and fell a couple of times, but only into the bracken and long grass.

Walking back to Skiddaw House

Once I made my way to the path back to Skiddaw House, I once again took off my boots, sorted out the insoles, and removed my waterproofs. The 5km from there back to the hostel was entirely on autopilot. I felt like a broken man.

Back at Skiddaw House

Back at the hostel (finally!) I sat down for a minute, then set to work packing up the tent. It was still a bit wet, and I didn’t have the energy to take it down properly, so I stuffed it in its bag, and packed everything inside the larger rucksack that I’d left inside the hostel.

Almost back to the car

The walk down from the hostel to the car was another 5km, but this time with my large rucksack on my back. It felt like double that. I would have collapsed at the boot of my car, to be honest, had there not been a group of schoolchildren listening to their teacher pontificating.

Conclusion

As I’ve mentioned before, every time I go on a walk I have a music track that ends up playing on repeat in my head. This isn’t something I choose, it’s just something that happens. Quite appropriately, this time around it was Got To Keep On by The Chemical Brothers. The lyrics are simple but were oh-so-appropriate:

Gotta keep on, gotta keep on
Gotta keep on, gotta keep on

[…]

And the rain comes down
Like tears, like tears
And the rain comes down
Like tears, like tears

There are many things I learned about myself and about spending time in the mountains during this trip. These include:

  • Camping isn’t such a big deal when you’re staying next to a hostel
  • Double-check equipment lists before leaving
  • Don’t drink coffee, even when doing exercise

I’ve only got a couple of QMDs left to do now, and I plan to do at least one of them with one other person. Although yesterday in particular was hard-going, I’m really glad I did it, and can definitely see why this is a requirement of getting on the Mountain Leader course!

Quality Mountain Day 16: Fairfield, Dollywaggon Pike & Helvellyn

As you’ll know if you’re a regular reader of this blog, I’m on course to complete twenty Quality Mountain Days (QMDs) sometime this decade, so that I can book myself on a a Mountain Leader course. On this occasion, and for the first time, I took our 12 year-old son Ben with me to the Lake District.

By way of context, inspired by the film School of Rock, our family has a saying that we trot out, usually with a wink or a glint in our eye: “You’re not hardcore, unless you live hardcore.” It’s our way of encouraging one another. What Ben completed today was impressive for a boy of his age. I didn’t take him over Striding Edge, despite his pleas, because people die on there and, well, that’s for another trip (not his first!)


Planned circular route starting near Patterdale
Planned circular route starting near Patterdale

A few days earlier we had planned our 17km route together using map OS4 and a HB pencil. I also booked us into Ambleside YHA, which is one of my favourites in the Lake District. As it was Bank Holiday weekend, the prices were all over the place, and it turned out to be cheaper for us to get a 3-person private room that for both of us to stay in men’s dorms. Crazy.

Ambleside is beautiful
Ambleside is beautiful

Before going, we transferred the route we’d drawn out on paper onto the OS Maps app on my phone, and then logged into my account on a computer to view the fly-through. The initial ascent looked quite steep and, indeed, it proved to be just that. At one point I thought it was raining, but it was just the sweat dripping from my head!

That hill was STEEP
That hill was STEEP

Thankfully, it was an almost-perfect day for walking. Not too cold, not too sunny, and virtually no wind. We did had the world’s most gentle hail at one point, which was almost laughable.

Climbing up Grisedale Pike
Climbing up Grisedale Pike

Further on, I remember looking up at Grisedale Pike after coming down Fairfield and saying to Ben that it looked like entering Mordor. He smiled and, a few steps later, I realised that he’s never watched The Lord of the Rings films. Note to self: fix that Dad fail right away!

Tarn at the bottom of Dollywaggon Pike
Tarn at the bottom of Dollywaggon Pike

At about this point, Ben was tempted by a shortcut, but I convinced him to stick to our plan. After sliding on the scree down Grisedale Pike and Ben falling over three times (yes, I counted), we decided to walk around the right-hand side of the tarn instead of the left. This was mainly because we wanted to go across the stepping-stones, next to which we stopped and had a snack there.

The view going up Dollywaggon Pike
The view going up Dollywaggon Pike

The way up Dollywaggon Pike was perhaps the most arduous section of the walk. It was at this point I taught Ben about what to do if one of us got hurt, how to use the whistle to make short blasts, when to use his mobile phone, and how to keep injured person warm. I’m not sure how much went in, as we were trying to ensure a bald guy with a dog didn’t overtake us. (Ben’s quite competitive, a trait he must have inherited from his mother…)

Ben and me at the top of Helvellyn with random dog in background (courtesy of the timer on my smartphone, hence the angle!)
Ben and me at the top of Helvellyn with random dog in background (courtesy of the timer on my smartphone, hence the angle!)

Once we got up Dollywaggon Pike, the walk across to High Crag and Nethermost Pike was easy. We avoided the mountain biker coming down Helvellyn, and had lunch at the top. It was a bit smelly as I think someone into the joys of public urination had marked their territory. We also got talking to some people who delighted in telling us that part of the route that Ben was proud to be achieving had been completed by their sons when they were five. Some people just make you 🙄

Coming down from Helvellyn via Swirral Edge
Coming down from Helvellyn via Swirral Edge

As I’ve already mentioned, we had already decided not to do Striding Edge this time around, and instead came down Swirral Edge. This seemed like particularly hard work, which makes sense after reading this article on the ten most dangerous British mountains:

[T]he most dangerous part of the mountain [Helvellyn] is actually the short descent onto the start of Swirral Edge which, particularly in winter conditions, can be lethally slippery.

After seeing no-one for the first part of our walk, this section was a lot busier. I noticed that a lot of people didn’t seem very prepared for a mountain walk, wearing pretty flimsy trainers. No wonder they were going so slowly!

Walking back down to the car
Walking back down to the car

The route back was pretty straightforward, although I did find it hilarious the number of times Ben adjusted his estimates of when we would get back. Now, fair enough, we did get back earlier than I thought we would, but his first guess was way off. The optimism of youth!

In the end, after tracking it on my GPS-enabled watch, it took us 5 hours 37 minutes to walk 17.58km. To his credit, Ben didn’t slow me down at all — in fact, I had to ask him to wait for me a couple of times! I’ll be taking him again.

Things I learned:

  1. Despite our preparations, we forgot gaiters, towels, and hayfever tablets. We didn’t need the gaiters, thankfully, and I managed to hire towels and buy the tablets.
  2. There was no place to park where I’d planned, which added a bit extra onto the walk (which we actually reclaimed via the shortcut around the tarn).
  3. We wasted 30 minutes driving back, as I went the wrong way. There was no signal and I’m used to using Google Maps. I should think and plan more about that.

Quality Mountain Day 15: Dale Head, Hindscarth, and High Spy

Regular readers will know that I’m trying to complete twenty Quality Mountain Days (QMDs) so I can book myself on a a Mountain Leader course. Every one of these I’ve done so far has been by myself, partly because I enjoy it that way, and partly down to logistics.

After QMDs 13 and 14, my friend (and TIDE podcast co-host) Dai Barnes offered to come with me on my next jaunt. As a result, we spent all day last Friday, and part of Saturday, walking in the Lake District.

Dai's feet

The thing you need to know about Dai is that he goes barefoot almost everywhere. So when I jokingly reminded him that he’d need some boots for our walking trip, he replied by saying that he’d tie some to his backpack, but was planning to go barefoot. 😲

Although Dai has helped out with students at his school doing The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, he’s not a regular mountain walker. That’s good, because if he had been, the day wouldn’t have counted towards my QMDs.

I sent him a map of the route I’d planned for our first day, and said that we could plan the second one over dinner afterwards. The map below is our 21.1km actual route, which took us around 8.5 hours — including plenty of stops for food and chat.

QMD 15 route

We actually recorded an episode of the TIDE podcast while walking, so if you’re interested, you can sample that here.

Dai going over a stileMeeting at 10:00, we set off from the car park Borrowdale YHA after I’d checked we had the right equipment. We started walking (and recording) but after about 30 minutes I realised we had taken the wrong path. I hadn’t really been paying enough attention!

So we continued around and down towards Seatoller and Honister Hause. We agreed while we were down there that we’d go up towards Great Gable the next day. From Honister we ascended directly up towards Dale Head. That approach is probably the best for someone like Dai who hasn’t been up there before. It’s a magnificent view.

Dale Head

We had a great moment at the top, as Dai had brought his tiny but very powerful speaker up to play one of his stepson’s latest songs.

After something to eat, we walked along Hindscarth Edge and round to Hindscarth itself. We could see the clouds drawing in, which began to obscure our view of Dale Head. We came down via Scope End, which was zig-zaggy in places. All the more annoying as I’d forgotten my walking poles.

Heading across the river at the bottom of the valley, engrossed in conversation, we merrily kept walking into Little Town. Once we realised, we backtracked a little and went around High Crags. It was around 16:00 by this time, so we didn’t fancy going around Cat Bells and Brandelhow. Instead, we aimed for Black Crags.

Sheepfold shortcut

In an error that I refer to on the podcast as ‘sheepfold shortcut’, we got confused between where we were in relation to two sheepfolds (indicated by the purple arrows on the map above).

Doug descending through the disused quarryThat meant we didn’t have much choice but to make an extremely steep ascent up to get along and round to Bull Crag. It wasn’t much fun, but necessary given that it was late afternoon.

From there, we walked along Maiden Moor, Narrow Moor, and then arrived at a misty High Spy. Given that the light was beginning to fade, we attempted to get down Rigghead Quarries as quickly as possible. The fact that Dai did this barefoot quite frankly beggars belief.

By the time we got past the quarries it was dark enough to turn my head torch on. We walked the last section in single file along the river in pitch darkness, being careful where we placed our feet. Dai did put on some very thin sandals for this bit.

Map and pint

After a shower, a change of clothes, and a couple of very well-deserved pints, we plotted our route for the next day over dinner.

Things I learned:

  1. It’s easy to get carried away and not check your map when you’re having an interesting conversation.
  2. Just because something looks like a path, doesn’t mean it is.
  3. Double-check your equipment before leaving the house, and consider having a list (so I don’t forget my poles!)

After a decent night’s sleep and a good breakfast on Saturday morning, we drove over to Honister Hause and started walking a circular route towards Great Gable. However, the wind and the rain was so bad that I had to put on full waterproofs and we sheltered for a while in a bothy near Dubs Quarry.

Honister Hause

We started descending, realising we would then have to go up again. So, after three hours, soaking wet, and with plenty of the route left to walk, we decided to call it a day. We’d had such a great time the day before, that spoiling our trip by trudging through inclement conditions on Saturday seemed a bit pointless.

So, after getting back to our cars, getting changed, and saying our goodbyes, we headed back home — Dai back down to Oundle, near Peterborough, and me back to Morpeth, Northumberland.


Thanks to Dai for some of the photos featured in this post!

Quality Mountain Day 14: Whiteside Pike, Ancrow Brow, and White Howe (Lake District)

Yesterday, after 24.63km as part of Quality Mountain Day 13, I followed a route that was both similar and different to what I’d experienced the previous day.

QMD 14 - 3D

The similarities? It was a horseshoe route, and around the same overall distance. The differences? The ground was boggier, and I wasn’t following a pre-defined path.

Selside church

As it wasn’t a defined route, I had to find somewhere to park. I decided to park next to the church at Selside, which meant a slightly longer overall walk. I began properly at where the path crossed the A6.

Notice next to gate

Interestingly, there were a few occasions during the route I chose where notices posted last week indicated a change to public rights of way. This was the most interesting one, near the start of my walk. Evidently, the farmer had padlocked the gate and the notice was re-enforcing a public bridleway. I just jumped over the fence.

Heather

The ground was covered with heather and other low-lying vegetation that like boggy ground. I knew I was in for a bit of a hike. It was also clear that I wasn’t going to see many other people, unlike the previous day.

Whiteside Pike

The first peak I ascended was Whiteside Pike (397m). The views were breathtaking, and the climb up there straightforward. I then had to decide how to get across to Todd Fell (401m).

Wall stile

The most difficult thing about this walk wasn’t the length or even the height I ascended to with each peak. It was the ground, which varied between clumpy and extremely boggy.

That mean that even the relatively simple task of getting from one peak to another often involved detours and figuring out the lay of the land.

I spotted a stile built into a drystone wall as I descended Whiteside Pike, and so made my way towards, and over, it.

As I looked over to the east, I noticed that the next valley had very low-lying cloud. Unfortunately, this had dissipated by the time I got round the horseshoe to have a closer look, but it did lend a certain ethereal quality to the walk.

Low-lying cloud

My biggest problem during this walk, as I’ve already stated, was the boggy ground. This made things hard going at times, and also meant that I had problems with my walking boots. I’ve bought gel insoles that are great, but sometimes work their way loose and ‘ruck up’ inside my boots. This causes me pain, so I had to stop three times in total to sort them out.

Walking boots

I was walking with two poles which made life a lot easier. I learned to lengthen and shorten the poles depending on whether I was going uphill or downhill. One of my favourite things to do with them is to use them as a kind of way to ‘pole vault’ across small streams and boggy ground. On one occasion I put my pole into the ground and it… kept going!

Tarn

I made my way up to Cappelbarrow (512m) and then round to Ancrow Brow, stopping to drink and eat occasionally. It was a glorious day, and this part of the walk was the easiest.

Route up to Cappelbarrow

There was a real diversity of vegetation on the ground, including some areas that were almost red with a plant I’ve yet to identify.

Vegetation

As it was a bit of a trudge going through the boggy ground, I took the opportunity to follow trails made by animals and farmers’ quad bikes wherever possible. So my route around to Long Crag (493m) wasn’t as I’d planned, as I didn’t stick to the fence but instead followed the trails.

White Howe

By the time I got to White Howe (530m) I was looking forward to making my descent, getting to the car, and driving home. It had turned into a bit of a slog. I phoned my wife to let her know I was OK and made my way towards what is marked on the map as ‘Lamb Pasture’.

Lamb Pasture

I’m not sure whether it was because I was distracted while talking to my wife, or because of the streams of water that I had to navigate around, but I made a wrong turn which meant that I ended up next to Wolfhowe Plantation.

Stream

All that was left to do was to find the bridleway and make my way down to the A6. Due to the speed of the cars going along the road, and how intermittent the paths were, I took a detour to get back to the church. I’m not fond of going through fields full of cows (it’s the way they stop and stare at you…) but I found my way back eventually.

Church from a distance

As I was pretty much out of water by this point, it was a good job that I got talking to an old guy who was busy doing some gardening. He allowed me to fill up my bottle from a tap attached to a bore hole. As he promised, it was perhaps the most refreshing water I’ve ever tasted!

By the time I got back to the car, I’d walked 21.57km. As I peeled off my sodden boots and walking socks, I saw the mother of all blisters on my left heel. From prior experience, I decided to do something about that, especially as I had a two-hour drive ahead of me. I got out my first aid kit, sterilised my scissors, cut a small nick in the blister, and drained it of fluid. I then covered what was left with plasters and drove home.

Things I learned:

  1. Boggy walks are tedious and energy-sapping.
  2. Always use poles to test the ground if unsure.
  3. Stop still for phone calls to ensure I don’t get distracted and wander off-course.

Quality Mountain Day 13: Park Fell, High Street, and Ill Bell (Lake District)

I’m still attempting to get in the twenty Quality Mountain Days (QMDs) I need before I can book myself on a a Mountain Leader course. I contracted to work four days per week for Moodle. As I worked five last week, I took the opportunity to work three this week and sneak over to the Lake District this Thursday and Friday.

QMD13-14-getting-there

I’ll get my excuses in now: I developed a bit of a cold the day before I went, my right knee felt a bit weak, and the Mountain Weather Information Service was forecasting winds of 35-50mph on the peaks in the Lake District. That’s why, instead of plotting my own route for QMD 13, I chose one of the ‘premium’ routes provided to Ordnance Survey Maps subscribers (like me!)

QMD 13
In the event, I modified the 24km route a bit. It ended up being the same length but, of course, the bit I changed as a ‘shortcut’ ended up being the hardest part!

QMD 13 - map

It was easy going at first. I parked at Low Fold, and walked down to Church Bridge, along through Limefitt Holiday Park, and along the valley towards The Tongue. I had nipped up the hill quickly to see if I could see the cairns supposedly on my left (I couldn’t) and stopped for a coffee.

QMD 13 - Troutbeck Park

As I sipped my less-than-stellar brew, I looked up and realised what my ‘shortcut’ entailed: a steep ascent up Park Fell. I girded myself and plodded up it, stopping occasionally to, ahem, ‘admire the view’.

QMD 13 - Thornthwaite Crag

I continued on to Thornthwaite Crag in the glorious sunshine and more to eat and drink. There were quite a few other walkers out and my walking poles made this shallower ascent much easier. The next bit was just a saunter around the corner to the top of Racecourse Hill. Annoyingly, it was just off the edge of my paper OS map, but I’d seen on the online version that it wasn’t much further.

QMD 13 - mist

As I started back from Racecourse Hill, the weather started to turn. I could see it coming in from a distance, so I had to decide whether to continue with my planned route or whether to modify it. I decided to keep going as modifying would mean either walking further or a steep descent.

QMD 13 - Ill Bell

By the time I got past High Street and on to Froswick, I couldn’t see the top of the next summit, Ill Bell. In fact, as I got to the incline to start the ascent up Ill Bell, the girl who was walking in front of me abruptly turned round and decided to go back. I, however, decided to power up it. It’s not often I put on music when I’m walking, but I needed some motivation. Getting to the top felt like an achievement.

QMD 13 - gate and map

From there, walking over to the Yoke, and then down to Garburn Nook was straightforward. I was tempted by what looked like a shortcut down to Limefitt Holiday Park, but when I got there saw that there was a lot of bracken. I’ve been seduced by that option before, and it didn’t turn out well. I kept going.

Six hours and 23.63km later, I arrived back at my car. It wasn’t the hardest walk in the world, given that I stuck to the paths, but I had to make decisions along the way and deal with changing weather conditions. So I reckon that counts as a QMD!

Things I learned:

  1. Think carefully about ‘shortcuts’ before taking them.
  2. Sometimes it’s OK to stick to the paths.

Quality Mountain Day 12: Black Craig, Knockower, and Coran of Portmark (Galloway Hills, Scotland)

This was my second Quality Mountain Day of this most recent Bank Holiday weekend. I’m doing them to get on a Mountain Leader course and you can read about the previous day in this blog post. Thanks to Hannah Belshaw for some of the photos!


My wife and I had been up Merrick the previous day. The way down had been interesting, mainly because I’d just taken the quickest route, whether or not it was actually a good idea.

With this route, we wanted to make sure we were on the correct side of the Galloway Hills so that we could get home in good time for our children. I planned the route with Hannah, my wife, but decided we’d have to play it by ear a bit depending on the terrain.


The Mountain Weather Service report said that the Galloway Hills on 7th May 2018 would be sunny and warm, with very little wind. Here’s a PDF of the report.

It was a straightforward walk up past some standing stones and a farm. I’d wanted to go and explore them, but there were lambs in the field so I thought it best not to disturb them.

Further on, some of the rams had very curly horns.


The route took us up past a disused lead mine. Some of the smelting chimneys were still standing. The air shafts were well marked and fenced-off.


After looking around the abandoned buildings (apparently there were 50 dwellings here at one point) we set off, but on the wrong track. I realised when we started entering the trees, and turned around.


However, instead of going all the way back to the path, I decided that we’d go along by the fence and then join the train. That meant we had to traverse lots of grass hummocks, which was hard going. In fact, this was the least steep of the hills but the most difficult walking.

Eventually we found a track up Knockower (511m) and followed that.


We got near the top and stopped for some coffee. It was at this point we made a decision to only go up Black Craig.


We headed down Knockower and towards Black Craig. This part involved tramping over heather, which was difficult for Hannah’s knee (which was already hurting a bit).

I suggested that on the way back down we use the stone wall as a ‘rail’ and head down into the forest.

The top of Black Craig (528m) was beautiful with magnificent views over Loch Doon. As we ate lunch, Hannah saw a track up Coran of Portmark and suggested we go up it. I agreed.

We trudged down Black Craig through boggy heather. Hannah spotted a moth, and we saw a lot of bees.


Crossing a wall and stream, we started our ascent of Coran of Portmark (which is an odd name for a mountain).


We walked at a steady pace near to the fence. It was straightforward but reasonably steep.


We made it to the top of Coran of Portmark (623m) and then looked for a track back down.


By this point, I’d realised that my watch had stopped tracking our route, which was annoying. Nevertheless, we just wanted to get back to the car and home.


We headed back past the disused lead mine. I wanted to investigate the air shafts, but Hannah stayed well clear.

We made it back to the car. My watch had stopped recording walk after about 5km but we did around 17km in about 5.5 hours.

Car

Things I learned:

  1. The second day is always harder than the first, especially for less experienced walkers.
  2. I shouldn’t just rely on one method of tracking my route.
  3. The terrain can make the difference between an enjoyable walk and a tough one.

Quality Mountain Day 11: Merrick (Galloway Hills, Scotland)

It’s been almost a year since I’ve been able to get away to log more of the Quality Mountain Days I need to eventually get on a Mountain Leader course. This time, I went to the Galloway Hills over the Bank Holiday weekend, and I didn’t go alone. I’m going to write each day up separately, as I took quite a few photos!

Route to Galloway Hills

Before we set off, and while I was still at home, I planned the route for the first day and had a rough idea of what we would do on the second. I used a paper map (Galloway Forest Park North, OS Explorer Map 318) and the OS Maps app (I’m a premium subscriber). Hannah, my wife, came with me.

Merrick route

I find that the OS Maps app underestimates the distance and time it actually takes to do walks I plan. In the event, we walked 20km and it took 6.5 hours.

I downloaded a PDF (see here) of the Mountain Weather Service forecast for the Galloway Hills. It said it that the cloud base would be low, but summits should be clear by midday.

We set off at 08:39 so we expected to walk through the mist until we reached the summit.

The route towards Merrick was well-signposted, with the only challenge being poor visibility. The wind was very light.

There were some tricky bits, as you can see below! However, it was mostly a straightforward ascent.

In Scotland, it’s always difficult to know how much of the ‘forest’ area shown on a map will actually be wooded. It’s a managed forest, so sometimes there’s no trees at all, just stumps!

The climb through the trees was steep in places, so I ensured I kept encouraging Hannah. She was fine, despite having a bit of a dodgy knee (which is stopping her from running at the moment). She kept up find.

It wasn’t difficult to keep on the track, but I nevertheless kept checking that I knew where we were.

The first peak we ascended on the way to Merrick was Benyallery (719m). There is a cairn at the top, and Hannah took my photo.

The Mountain Weather Service forecast said that there could be some wind, and so I was a little concerned about going across the ridge from Benyallery towards Merrick. In the event, everything was fine.

Visibility as we got closer to Merrick decreased to about 50 metres.

We made it to the top of Merrick (843m) and had lunch, using the trig point as shelter. I made sure we both kept warm as soon as we sat down.

As we started the descent from the top of Merrick, we began to pass more people. The temperature dropped, and we took our off-path route towards Bennan.

Had the cloud base not been so low, it would be have been obvious which way to go. However, with poor visibility, we needed to make sure we found the best way.

A new, high deer-proof fence had been erected by the Forestry Commission since the OS Map was published. We found a way to cross via the largest stile I’ve ever seen.

The track up to Bennan (556m) was an easy walk. Once we reached the top, the cloud base lifted very quickly. Within minutes, we could see the top of the peaks we’d just climbed!

From there, we headed down the track. I’d planned for us to deviate from it once we got round and down to an altitude of about 270m.

It’s always difficult to know in advance what you’re actually going to discover when you see a black solid line on an OS map. It means a boundary, but fence or wall? In this case, I’d planned to use it as a ‘rail’ to help us down, instead of continuing on the track. That would have added another 5km to our journey.

It wasn’t a good decision. This was Hannah’s first mountain day, so when I went ahead to have a look, I should have turned back and stuck to the track. In the event, she coped really well, but it was a pretty treacherous route down: sheer drops, boggy ground, and felled trees.

In the end, we made it. I’m not sure what I’d have done had she or I had hurt ourselves, however. I certainly learned a lesson there. We made it back to the car park.

By the time we got back to the car, my smartwatch told me the route had been 19.97km. So, like any sensible person, I walked around a bit so that it reached a nice round 20km!

Things I learned:

  1. Plan the last part of the route as well as the first bit.
  2. Go at the speed and ability of the least experienced member of your group.
  3. Have a backup plan.

Quality Mountain Days 9 & 10: Red Screes, Great Rigg, and Kentmere Pike

As regular readers of this blog will be aware, I’m aiming to get on a Mountain Leader course by 2018. To do so I need to complete (and log) twenty ‘Quality Mountain Days‘. This time around, I headed back to the Lake District on Sunday and Monday.

Journey to Ambleside

The two days couldn’t have been more different, which goes to show how the weather can really affect both your safety and enjoyment when walking at altitude. Sunday was glorious; I wore my sunglasses virtually all day, and enjoyed an ice-cream by Lake Windermere when I came back down. Monday, however, was a completely different story: 40mph winds, incessant (freezing) rain, and low visibility.

Planning

I planned my routes by using OS Explorer Map OL7, and by using the Premium features of the Ordnance Survey website. I’ve found the latter extremely useful since its launch, particularly the 3D mapping feature. It means I (should) know what to expect before I get there.

Red Screes and High Pike circular (3D)

Checking the Mountain Weather Information Service (MWIS), I could see that Sunday and Monday were going to be very different days. It’s actually the first time I’ve opted to go out at this time of the week, a decision we made as a family so as not to interfere too much with our children’s activities. However, as it happened, that meant an extremely difficult day on Monday, with little time for recovery before work on Tuesday.

Sunday (QMD 9)

The route I planned for my first day of walking took me up Red Screes, across over Dove Crag and Hart Crag, round by Great Rigg, and back past Rydal.

QMD 9 (planned)

Usually, I record my actual route using the OS Maps app. However, for whatever reason, my battery was extremely low by the time I arrived in the Lake District. I think that was down to a faulty cable that made it look like my phone was charging while Google Maps was giving me directions, but that wasn’t actually the case. I prioritised being able to make calls in the event of an emergency over recording my actual route.

On the way up I met a retired guy coming down Snarker Pike. We got chatting, and he mentioned that he’d gone up there early to watch the sunrise! I noticed that, although it was dry where we were, he was wearing gaiters, so I decided to put mine on.

QMD 9 - Snarker Pike

A bit further on, I ended up deviating from the route I’d planned after making a mistake. After checking my map and compass, it looked like I was heading for Middle Dodd. I made a course correction to ensure I was going to Little Hart Crag, but that actually took me off in the wrong direction. As a result, I had to traverse the side of a mountain. That wasn’t much fun on the knees and ankles!

Once back on track, I decided to go up the steeper route to Scandale Head. As my detour had added time onto the route I’d planned, and I knew the next day’s walking was going to be challenging, I decided to come back down via High Pike and Low Pike. I didn’t want to be out for longer than I needed to be.

QMD 9 - Little Pike

On the way back down I met a guy using walking poles. I asked him about them, as I’d intended to buy some when I got back home. He said how inexpensive they were, and how much of a difference they made. I resolved to buy some when I got back down to Ambleside.

It was a pretty straightforward route back to the car, the only slightly tricky bit was getting down Sweden Crag. I walked back to the car, and then straight into Mountain Warehouse and bought some walking poles. I was out exactly five hours, from 09:15 to 14:15.

QMD 9 - bluebells and tree

The rest of the day I spent eating ice-cream, reading the newspaper in the pub, and talking to people at the hostel. There was one guy in particular who was really interesting and ended up telling me his life story.

Things I learned:

  1. Double-check before doing a ‘course correction’ just in case you were actually on the right path.
  2. Always wear gaiters.
  3. When it’s been dry for a long period of time, overnight rain can make everything slippery.

Monday (QMD 10)

After Sunday, it was hard to believe that Monday’s weather could be so different. However, I trust MWIS, so had planned a route that I thought would be challenging yet safe. Parking the car at Sadgill, I plotted an anti-clockwise walk up to Harter Fell, then Kentmere Pike, and back down and round to the car.

QMD 10 (planned)

I usually enjoy my walks, even if it’s physically (and sometimes mentally tough). I did not enjoy Monday at all. There were times I could barely see. The four layers of clothing I was wearing were so wet I could wring them out along with my gloves. The wind was brutal and the freezing rain and low cloudbase meant I couldn’t see much.

While I had my phone with me, once I’d put it in the right mode to record my route and took a few photos, I left it alone. There was too much rain to use the touchscreen, and any time I put my arms down from the 90-ish degrees of using my walking poles, water gushed out of the opening to my coat. It was pooling in my sleeves.

QMD 10 - signpost

There were a couple of times on the way up to Harter Fell that I thought I was going the wrong way. It’s easy to get disorientated and, stupidly, I’d managed to leave my compass in the car. It was only after triple-checking my map that I was convinced I was on the correct route. Thank goodness for the distinctive shape of some fields. I probably should have done some pacing, but I was too miserable.

While it wasn’t too catastrophic, I did make one mistake on Monday. I mistook one corner of a field for another, went over a stile, and then realised I was rather close to a very steep edge. I retraced my steps, got my bearings, and got back on track.

QMD 10 - cairn

Everything was going fine, and I was looking getting back to the dry warmth of my car. I could feel myself speeding up, as the BPM of the songs going through my head were getting faster.

As happened the day before, I had to climb down a crag on the way back. This one, Wray Crag, shouldn’t have been an issue. The problem was that it was my first day with the walking poles. They’d been great up to that point, really saving my knees. One thing I hadn’t done, however, was keep checking that the clasps keeping the extendable bits in place remained tight. It was as I used my left-hand pole to steady myself as I come down the crag that it gave way.

I must of only tumbled down a couple of metres, landing on my elbow and hip. I got up straight away, cursing myself for my stupidity. Realising I was alright, I counted my blessings, as if I’d hit my head it could have been very different. I tightened my walking poles, and strode on.

QMD 10 - clouds

Getting back to the car, I looked at my watch. I’d set off at the same time as yesterday (09:15) but got back to the car by 13:45. So a four and a half hour walk, instead of the five hours I’m supposed to do for a QMD. I’m still counting it, as it was extremely challenging for me, I didn’t stop for more than two minutes at any point, and I learned a whole lot.

My phone turned off as soon as I got it out of my rucksack, and wouldn’t turn back on. I was convinced it had irreparable water damage, and had to use my car’s inbuilt satnav to get back home. I dried myself and changed clothes rather awkwardly in the back of the car before driving home.

QMD 10 - valley

Given that I’d told my wife to phone Mountain Rescue if she hadn’t heard from me by 17:00, it was important I got home before that time. Fortunately, it’s only a bit over two hours from that part of the Lake District back to my house. I stopped at a service station for all of five minutes for a coffee, a sausage roll, and a cinnamon bun, and got back home in record time.

Things I learned:

  1. Check. Your. Poles.
  2. Don’t go up a mountain without a compass.
  3.  I probably could do with a waterproof phone.

Quality Mountain Days 7 & 8: Ben Nevis, Stob Bàn, and Mullach nan Coirean

I’m aiming to get on a Mountain Leader course by 2018. To do so I need to complete (and log) twenty ‘Quality Mountain Days‘. The last time I was out was a couple of weeks ago in The Trossachs, which you can read about here.

I planned my routes last weekend. Ben Nevis was straightforward to plan(up and down the tourist trail as fast as I could), but Stob Bàn, and Mullach nan Coirean looked like it would be more interesting.

Planning route up Stob Ban

On Monday, one of my clients sent me a link to this BBC News article about a new feature of the Ordnance Survey app. It looked incredible, and I already use the mobile app, so I signed up for a premium subscription. This gives me access for a year to a whole range of features, one of which is the new 3D functionality in the web version.

All of a sudden, those contour lines came to life:

Ben Nevis - 3D route

There was a brief discussion on Twitter (including official Ordnance Survey account) as to whether such easy access to 3D visualisations was a good thing. Some argued that it might lead to less emphasis being placed on the ability to read contour lines.

My view is that it helps enormously with planning, as it allowed me to decide where would be good places to stop and eat, as well as the parts of the route which would require more effort.

Friday (QMD 7)

QMD 7 (actual)

I got up at 04:45, had breakfast, did some final packing and checking (including of the mountain weather service) and set off. I was on the road by 05:30 and it took almost five hours to reach Fort William, the town at the base of Ben Nevis. I left a route card with the guy who runs the hostel I was booked in at,  and drove to the Ben Nevis visitor centre car park.

After I got changed and paid my car parking, I set off straight away. The Ordnance Survey app reckoned it would take me 4.5 hours to ascend Ben Nevis, and I reckoned on a descent of about two thirds of that time. So, about 7.5 hours was the time I allotted.

Ben Nevis path

In the event, it was a lot easier going that I expected. The first part of the route, up to the waterfall, is almost a motorway. The next part was steeper, but not particularly a problem. The only bit that was a bit tricky was the snow and ice above 900 metres. It made me wish I had walking poles — and it was almost slippy enough for crampons.

Ascending Ben Nevis

Walking through the cloud layer was interesting, as I had to go from waypoint to waypoint, as well as following walkers in front of me. I can see why in low visibility it can be easy to get disorientated. At the top, I checked out the highest war memorial in Britain, and then headed back down.

Ben Nevis - summit

Although walking uphill can be tough stamina-wise, I prefer it to walking downhill, which is hard on the knees. I skidded a few times coming down the snow and ice, but after that it was long and boring, but easy-going down to the bottom.

I won’t be hurrying back to do Ben Nevis again but, if I do, it will be with someone else, and we’ll stay at the Ben Nevis Inn & Bunkhouse. It doesn’t look anything special on the outside, but I went there for dinner after a shower at my hostel and checking Foursquare. The food was good, it’s cozy, perfectly placed at the start of the route to the top.

In the evening, I had a great conversation with a thatcher who had come up on the sleeper from London with his mountain bike, and an Australian who was on a tour of Europe. I also got to start an excellent book by Richard Sennett entitled Together : the rituals, pleasures and politics of cooperation, while listening to a record player in front of an open fire.

Things I learned

  1. Just because a route is popular doesn’t make it interesting.
  2. Circular routes are the best.
  3. Walking poles aren’t just for old people.

Saturday (QMD 8)

QMD 7 (actual)

(N.B. the timing on this is incorrect, but the distance and elevation seem correct)

I was in a mixed dormitory at the hostel. That was fine, but makes changing clothes, etc. something you have to think about rather than just get on with. Of the six of us, the two middle-aged guys snored like troopers, and one of the women talked in her sleep. But, hey, I don’t go to hostels for a good night’s sleep.

Getting up at 05:45, I knew that I had to get out quickly if I wanted to complete my route and then drive back home the same day. I got ready, had some breakfast, handed my key in, and drove to the start point, a car park in Glen Nevis. I reckoned that my walk would take around seven hours, and started at 07:45.

Stream

The path up Stob Bàn was really interesting as it wound alongside a river with plenty of stream flowing into it.

The day before, I’d passed lots of people going up and down Ben Nevis, and even walked with one guy for a while. However, on Saturday I saw no-one for six hours. And yes, it was bliss.

Stob Ban

As I approached Stob Bàn, the wind picked up and the ascent looked more formidable than I had expected. In the end, however, it wasn’t as difficult as it looked, and the views were amazing. I pushed on to Mullach nan Coirean.

Top of Stob Ban

Having visualised this route in 3D, as well as my route up Ben Nevis, I’d noticed that there was a different way down than the one I’d planned. Unhelpfully, this left me in two minds while I was going over rocky ground. I ended up veering off-course, and ending up in a situation where I had to do a course-correction. Instead of retracing my steps or climbing up another steep ascent, I decided to make my way down the mountainside.

This was tough going, and I skidded a bit down the wet heather. I eventually made it to the bottom of the valley, only to find that the fence I was looking for as a waypoint on the map actually impeded my progress. Noticing that someone had cut a small hole in the wire fence, I squeezed through like an octopus.

Walking along the fence on the other side, I then came across this:

Ladder

Needless to say, it wasn’t marked on the map. Nor, though, was the path down from it to the track, so I half-walked, half-ran down back to the car. I stripped off, rubbed myself all over with a wet flannel, changed my clothes, and started the journey home.

Apart from a quick stop in Stirling for an emergency milkshake and to go to the toilet, I made it back in one go. Sitting down for 4.5 hours after walking for six isn’t the best idea in the world, but today I’m not as stiff as I was last time.

Things I learned

  1. A thick sweatband would be a good addition to my gear.
  2. Check and double-check your route when stopping for a drink/snack.
  3. Five hours each way is perhaps too far to drive each way for a two-day trip!
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