Mid-winter Lakes 3000s Jan 2012

A windy day on the Lakes 3000s, 45 miles, 11,000 feet, 13 hours 30 mins

The forecast was not terribly inspiring but I was looking for a full day out, so plumped for the Lakes 3000s on the basis that there isn't a lot of high level ridge traversing and I could therefore manage the wind. I'd seen two forecasts - one predicting winds gusting to 60mph and the other to 100mph.  For the most part, the former was correct, but on Scafell it was closer to the latter.

The top of Deep Gill on a rather better day

I set off from Keswick just before 7am on a dark breezy morning.  It didn't take long for the first rain to arrive and it stayed like that, off and on, for the whole day.  I don't like road running but in the dark, it seemed the easiest thing to do, so I jogged along the 8 or 9 miles of road to Seathwaite.  By England's wettest settlement the wind was gusting to the extent thatI struggled to run at all when facing in to it.  If it was like this here, what was it going to be like on the top?  I was soon to find out.  After taking the Corridor route up to Lingmell col I picked up the trod under Pikes crag to Hollowstones and thence Lords Rake.  The chasm was looking particularly dank but mercifully free of snow as I'd no brought my spikes.  Encouraged by this I took the West Wall traverse in to Deep Gill.  Therer were a few patches of hard snow on the way but nothing that a bit of judicous kicking couldn't circumvent.  I could see the mist rushing into Deep Gill and could now feel the full force of the wind funnelling up the gill.  On top of that there was no avoiding the hard snow in the gill which I ascended by jamming  afoot in the crack between the rock and the snow and kicking a step with the other foot.  More alarming was thew wind which threatened to prise me off the mountain.  I held on very firmly!  All in all it was quite exhilirating as the wind rushed up, blowing my coat toward my chest and exposing me to the icy particles which were similarly being blown up the gully.  It was nothing however, compared to the wind at the col between Scafell Pinnacle and Scafell.  Here I was pinned to the ground for a while unable to move anywhere - at least voluntarily.  I crawled forward and eventually managed to stagger to the summit.

From there on things got better.  Although it was gusty and the gully was more of a stream, I was in the shelter down by Foxes Tarn.  I missed the best line traversing to Mickledore and end up on some fairly precarious ground.  Glad to be off this, I slogged up to the Pike which was surprisingly calm by comparison.  Here I met my first person and we had a chat as we rested in the lee of the cairn.  There was a bit of fresh snow on the Pike but nothing much in reality.  I ran off in the murk to Esk Hause where a band of walkers were struggling into the wind and rain.  Fortunately (or actually as I'd planned), the wind was with me and I made good progress to Stake Pass and round the back of High Raise on the Old County Tops route.  The Bog was predictably oozing water as I sloshed with cold feet down to Wythburn.

I had my sandwiches in the shelter of the woods, feeling pretty soggy but warm enough to make the ascent of Helvellyn.  I elected to take the track as I was starting to feel a bit weary.  At the top I had to face into the wind for the first time and such was its strength that I couldn't run even downhill.  My cagoule was pressed hard against my throat and my balaclava obscured my eyes somewhat, so I was glad to drop off Brown Cove Crags.  I filled up with water at a stream, having only had less than a litre and then jogged in to the wind all the way along the road into Keswick.  There was quite a lot of traffic and the 7 miles were quite unpleasant, but with ensuing dark and my fatigue I really didn't want to add in High Rigg. 

At the car I had some juice and a bite to eat, then set off up Skiddaw.  By Jenkin Hill I'd entered the mist and discovered that my torch batteries needed charging.  Too late now. I fumbled along in the dark and rising wind.  It was a hard gruelling ascent at this time of day, having to face in to the wind and exert more energy.  Somehow I managed to miss the gate before the traverse beneath Low Man, but quickly realised what was happening and dropped off back to the track.  Fearful of the wind, on the ridge, I skirted beneath the South top of Skiddaw, but soon discovered that the wind wasn't that bad after all.  With my rather puny light it was difficult to see however, and it was a very slow walk over to the main top. 

On the descent, I once more lost the huge path and was headed toward Low Man.  Someone must have wanted me to go there!  Again I dropped down to the main track and ambled down with wooden legs.  It was good to drop out of the mist and see lights on Latrigg.  In the woods I passed two parties heading off for BG attempts.  Their impressive torch beams put my own to shame but I didn't envy them their night out.  At 8:30 I arrived back at the car and all that remained was a visit to the chippie in Keswick.

Munro Completion

Completion of the 283 Munros with 10 year old Ben, 29 August 2011

Probably my proudest achievement has been to celebrate the success of my son, Ben in climbing all 283 Munros at the age of 10.  This is quite some achievement for a ten year old as it involves over 1400 miles and 500,000 feet of ascent in total, with a lot of rough and challenging terrain.  We finished on a poor day on Ben More, Mull, marking the occasion by taking a stone from the ocean and swapping it with a stone from the summit cairn which we returned to the sea.  Its been a great journey together over a 4 and a half year period.  I've catalogued our Munro bagging here.

Photos
Ben's Munro Blog
Statistics

Fisherfield Round 24-25 July 2011

Another go at my round of June, 70 miles, 29,000 feet, 31 hours

Having been disappointed to have had such dreich weather on my previous round and having seen what a good circuit it made, I wanted to repeat the experience in better conditions and hopefully in a time much closer to 24 hours. So just over a month later, I set off from Loch a Bhraoin Bothy at the early hour of 4:30 am. with the promise of fine weather and being suitably psyched for the adventure. 

Loch a Bhraoin - start and end point

The rationale for the change of starting point was simple - I wanted to get the tricky ground done first when fresh and the bothy also made a decent place to stop over since the bunkhouse was full.  To begin with my plan seemed good.  I made good time despite the depressingly familiar sight of low mist over the tops.  I was no longer afflicted by knee pain and had cut back on food and clothing so the sack was as light as I could make it.  This time I saw no-one on the Fisherfield peaks, but did see a golden eagle soaring next to the cliffs on Beinn Tarsuinn.  I was much quicker to the bothy at Shenavall but this time didn't stop inside.  The slog up Sail Liath was soon dispatched despite upsetting a huge boulder which crashed down the slopes.  Fortunately no-one in the right mind would be climbing this slope - just me - and the sheep seemed to keep out of the way.  An Teallach flew by and again, I moved much more efficiently than I had previously, seeing no-one but a herd of wild goats.  By lunchtime I was down at Dundonell and like last time I emerged into the sun from the grey pall that obscured the peaks.  This time I found a way of avoiding the gorse and ditches and was soon at Inverlael.  I managed to sort of run up the track alongside a lady who was out for a very sedate jog.  I could see how slow I was going by her gait, but eventually I overtook her and made good progress up Eilidh na Clach Geala where once again I re-entered the mist and rain.

 

Video 2 days later

By Cona Mheall the rain had really set in and on Beinn Dearg the wind rose to about 40mph making me cold, wet and a bit miserable.  The prospect of a night in this was not appealing.  However, food and a change of clothing awaited at Loch Droma, which I anticipated would take me through the night.  By now I'd be on the go for over 18 and a half hours, but I reckoned I was on target for a 26-27 hour completion.

Unfortunately things didn't work out that way despite a good start up Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich.  I soon entered the mist and dark and could see very little.  the rocks were hideously slippy, I was having to watch the compass all the time and all I wanted to do was go to sleep.  The previous night I had slept very little in the bothy and it was finally catching up with me.  With no support, there's little you can do.  I tried everything - soldiering on, stopping for a quick nap, eating, drinking, slapping my face - nothing seemed to work.  All I wanted to do was to lie down and go to sleep.  So in the wind, rain and dark I did just that.  I slumped to the cold ground, made a cocoon and for a precious time allowed myslef to enter the land of nod.  I must have been tired as I actually fell asleep three times on that windy, damp plateau, buffeted by the wind.  In between I was reduced to a slow walk over the glassy rocks, peering into the gloom.Zombie-like I plodded on, seeing nothing, just feeling the wind and dampness.

The dawn brought no real relief.  I was still exhausted and could only plod slowly on in my little dream-world.  The peaks seemed to take an age, the slopes got longer and longer.  Nothing was short.  Nothing was easy.  But eventually the tops were bagged and the day brightened.  By A Chailleach the sun had come out and it was a nice day.  The irony was not lost on me, as I dozed on the summit.  And then it was over.  Not the trip I had really wanted, but I am in no doubt that this is a classic round, worthy of a third visit?  I think that the route could be improved and probably shortened a little.  Let's see.

Photos (from the following few days)

Fisherfield Round, 19-20 June 2011

Round of Fannaichs, Fisherfield and Beinn Dearg Munros, 70 miles, 29,000 feet, 37 hours

An Teallach - fulcrum of the round

This round is a magnificent tour of four rugged groups of mountains in what is probably my favourite bit of the Highlands.  The day started well as I rose above the valley mist and I eagerly anticipated a sunny day in the hills as I ascended Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich.

However it was not to be.  Before the summit I entered the mist and from there on every summit was in the cloud and I saw very little indeed.  After losing the way slightly on the descent of Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich I was careful in my route finding and had no more alarms.  The Fannaichs are predominantly grassy hills, but with some magnificent cliffs and some bouldery ground.  there's a bit of this on the long ridge to An Coilleachean, but for the most part its eminently runnable, especially without the rucksack which I'd dumped near Sgurr Mhor.  A quick sandwich and on over the highest peak of the Fannaichs.  I maintained a good pace but was having to work hard and felt a bit sick.  This didn't change until I was forced to slow down once off the Fannaichs, but there's a satisfaction in moving efficiently in wild scenery and I saw no-one.  The descent from the last peak of the Fannaichs is a bit of a green wall where confidence is needed to trot down in the cloying mist.  At the bottom its a tedious tussocky morass, but after 21 miles I reckoned a stop was in order.  I'd done the first section at a fair rate but at a cost.  I was already feeling a bit weary and had now picked up a painful knee.

Still, I was determined to carry on and the slog up the next hill was relieved by the some of the most amazing slabs in the British Isles.  These drop down for about one kilometre in a smooth drop at an angle of about 30 degrees and extend for about a mile across the hillside.  Above is a chaotic pile of boulders that litter the hillside.  Its truly one of the wonders of Scotland that I had not anticipated - one of the joys of an unreccied route.  However the weather was not playing ball.  The drizzle settled in and from then on the day was a soggy affair with no views whatsoever.  Having looked forward to a day in the sun, this was an immense disappointment and coupled with my painful knee, put something of a dampener on proceedings.  I could no longer run downhill and in any case, the wet quartz didn't lend itself to fast progress.  Still, in the wilderness 10 miles from the nearest road there is little to do but press on, and my guesstimate of timings was proving woefully inadequate for the prevailing conditions and my creaking joints.  By the time I emerged from the mists and sloshed through the bog and river to Shenavall Bothy it was 10pm and I was not in the mood for a dark night in the rain on An Teallach.  I therefore readied myself for a cold, fairly unpleasant night in the bothy, given that I was out of food and drink and had no warm clothing.

Yet unbeknown to me an angel in the form of a lad with a full bottle of whisky, spare food, stove and duvet jacket was waiting for me.  A night of abject misery was transformed to a sociable dram or two before settling down for a decent rest.  At 4am I'd had enough, had some breakfast courtesy of my new found friend and the leftover food in the bothy, and set off for one of the steepest ascents anywhere - 850m up in a mile.  Unsurprisingly its an unrelenting slog up heather, boulders and scree to the summit of Sail Liath, the Eastern end of the An Teallach ridge.  This is my favourite mountain in Scotland, with its out-of-this-world sandstone pinnacles, huge cliffs and pointed summits.  I took in all the pinnacles and even in the continuing dreich conditions, counted myself lucky to be there.

At 9am I picked up my food dump, which served as a good second breakfast rather than the evening meal I had intended it to be and set forth along the hill path to Inverlael.  This is the relatively low level part of the route and I had envisaged a fairly dreary interlude between the major hill groups.  How wrong I was.  the path affords wonderful views of the wall of An Teallach which was now revealed, at least in part.  As you proceed, you pass waterfalls and idyllic lochans and traverse above the sea loch, with Beinn Dearg beckoning beyond.  In the dark I'd have seen none of this so I was a happy man again.  That is until the path shown on the map disappeared into the undergrowth and necessitated weaving in and out of the gorse bushes, reeds and drainage ditches.  Still, I could sniff lunch at the next food dump and duly fortified, strode up the forestry track up Glen Squaib.  It was warm in the glen, but it didn't last long as I re-entered the mist and stayed there until the last descent.  These hills are wild, rock strewn and cleaved by great cliffs.  In my minds eye I could see Penguin Gully that I'd climbed in a previous winter, but the scene was rather more of a grey affair on this occasion.  On reaching Beinn Dearg, I took a direct line for the car at Loch Droma and finally followed the stalkers path to end what had been a truly magnificent outing.

PS. The videos were taken subsequently!

Schedule

Rigby Round, 13-15 December 2010

74 miles, 18,000 feet challenge. 54 hours, solo unsupported

The first winter completion of the classic Cairngorms round which visits the tops of the 18 Northern Cairngorm Munros in a circuit from Loch Morlich.  I saw no sign of civilisation or people until the ski slopes at the end and had no tracks to follow for the most part, so it was a true solo experience.  After a brilliant first day of sun on frozen snow, the night degenerated to freezing rain driven by a 40 mile per hour wind.  I was then soaked, cold and enveloped in a white out for the next 40 hours.  It was a most testing experience, especially during the second night when I became hopelessly lost and spent 9 hours trudging through the snow without knowing where I was.  Having tested my compass subsequently, I think the large bubble in my compass caused it to read incorrectly.  In any event, what promised to be a 36 hour challenge turned into a 54 hour epic.


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Photos