Thanks go to The Solitary Walker for another reminder of some Happy Teenage Days!
[I have a well trained memory!]
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Thanks go to The Solitary Walker for another reminder of some Happy Teenage Days!
[I have a well trained memory!]
It’s all looking a bit bare just now, so whilst it is sunny here, we are off to warmer climes for a while.
I’ll be reporting briefly from there…
Hello, we are still here, fighting off a virus.
It’s a computer ailment and has taken up far too much of my time this week.
Darren is helping, but we’ll be taking a break tomorrow, for a week, when the Blackberry thingy will take over, and that hasn’t got a virus.
Meanwhile I’ve just about caught up with some reading, and was entertained by this from Martin Rye:
and this from Wiggers World (hope Tom is feeling better):
I’ve never been up the Eiger, but we frequently beat out the rhythm of the Animals whilst hiking over the Yorkshire Moors in the old days, when Cream, John Mayall and Zoot Money were all regulars at our favourite music venue – Redcar Jazz Club.
Finally, Adventure Travel magazine occasionally comes up with a little nugget, such as this:
It hasn’t rained here in Timperley today, but apparently the Lake District has rather copped it. Commiserations go to the soggy residents, and to students on a Mountain Leaders Training Course, who are currently out on an ‘expedition’. No doubt Heather T-S will come through with flying colours!
Mike joined Andrew and me on a trip up The Calf back on 20th July. His new project – climbing the Yorkshire 2000 footers – required him to climb it again.
So Mike, Bruno and I duly assembled outside the Cross Keys Temperance Inn at 9.30 am today.
Sun was forecast.
I’ve tried to over-expose these shots to give the impression of sunshine, which I am assured by Sue bathed Timperley all day.
As you can see, the horses fancied Bruno, but he wasn’t sure…
Then it started to rain. I’ve managed to digitally wipe the water from the lens, though Mike may not have been so lucky as his camera had lost the will to ‘view’ (ie its LCD monitor had died, showing a constant image of a blobby cloud).
Lots of water was cascading down the Spout. A foursome who had set off with us, and gone ahead, were already returning to the valley.
The Pie Man needed a snack. He claimed it was a quiche, but it looked more like a pie to me. Bruno likes pies. He ate some.
Mike lost his compass, but luckily I had one, so we managed to locate The Calf’s 676 metre summit. This despite the distraction of Mike’s camera suffering heart failure. After a selection of “b*****d, I thought I’d recharged them” remarks from Mike as he fiddled with a selection of batteries, the camera finally zz’d back into its own version of pathetic death throey noises.
Q: “Do you think it will last until Christmas?” A: “No.”
Thanks go to a conveniently encountered man with a SRC1 walking pole, for composing the above masterpiece.
Meanwhile, the rain had relented, though in the cool, breezy conditions we were happy to keep waterproofs installed for the rest of our stroll.
Bruno dried out as well, though at the far point of our walk, by Bowerdale Beck, he developed a severe limp. “Oh s**t” said Mike, “I’m not carrying him back from here.”
Meanwhile, Mike seemed to become aware of his impending strangulation, which turned out to be the errant compass – in its efforts to remind Mike of its existence it was slowly tightening its grip by winding its way around his throat. It’s usually Bruno who does this – by running in circles with his lead gradually wrapping its way around the unsuspecting traveller.
Large lumps of jelly, with the consistency of wallpaper paste, lay beside the path. Mike knows about these things – apparently its source is a mystery (the puking birds theory seems a trifle unlikely!), but it does contain organic material. John Wyndham would have a field day…
We gave the limping Bruno a five minute break. He went to sleep. Then we embarked on the steep ascent of Yarlside, ready to abandon the dog if he couldn’t keep up. Luckily, he’d forgotten that he had a limp, and he proceeded to haul Mike up the hill, our second Marilyn of the day, (Mike’s an ardent ‘Bagger’).
The summit of Yarlside was free of clag, but in the dull weather the views were unremarkable. The descent was steep. “This would be good in snow” we agreed, surveying the smooth, steep hillside. It was wet and slippery. We sat down and raced each other to the bottom, enjoying the bum-warming qualities of the friction of overtrousers on wet moss.
Here’s our route – if the weather had been better we’d have included Hazelgill Knott as well – 13 km, 890 metres of ascent, taking just over 5 hours.
We spent a pleasant hour in Cross Keys Temperance Inn – surprisingly hospitable despite the lack of beer, with coffees, a tasty scone for me, and a glass of mysterious red liquid that seemed to bring Mike back to life.
Then we interrupted a photo shoot and went home.
The full slide show, principally for Mike’s benefit, is here. And his report on our day out is here.
Blue skies greeted this Timperley resident this morning. So he leapt into the car and sidled off to Alstonefield, where three free car parks buck the trend of expensive ‘Pay and Display’ in the Peak District.
After setting off at 9.20 past the church in cool sunshine, I slid down dew laden paths to Milldale, whilst the mist rolled in.
By the time I emerged onto the Tissington Trail, the conditions were distinctly ‘atmospheric’.
Leaving the Trail, after chattering to Blue Tits, Great Tits, Blackbirds and Goldfinches, I headed towards sunlit Biggin, but failed to catch much of the sunlight as cloud from the next weather front imperceptibly rolled in to replace the mist.
It was only 11.30 – the doors of the Waterloo Inn were still shut. I would have to wait for a taste of Stuart’s Black Sheep bitter.
A good track led past this lovingly reconstructed dry stone wall.
Soon the view down to Wolfscote Dale revealed a very Autumnal scene, with the remaining foliage mainly very yellowy and ready to drop, as it is in Timperley.
Mallards on the River Dove were being hassled by a pair of Goosander, but this Dipper, and a rather scruffy Heron (maybe it was trying to stay warm) were very much minding their own business.
Wolfscote is a popular dale. After seeing virtually nobody for three hours, I met a procession of folk heading for a late lunch in Hartington.
The sun had disappeared long before I reached my crossing point – Gipsy Bank Bridge. Gipsy Bank, just beyond, is a bit of a haul…
At the top of the hill a Raven sat on a fence post, (‘pruk’, ‘pruk’), watching a field of munching cattle that were clearly aware of the direction of the prevailing weather.
But the rain kept off until after I had passed the Alstonefield Dinosaur on my way back to reach the car by soon after 1 pm.
It’s a 17 km route, with 560 metres ascent, for which you should allow around four hours.
I took a few more snaps – there’s a (admittedly pretty ordinary) slide show with 30 pictures here.
Anyone wishing to join us on a re-run of this walk should meet outside the small car park by the public toilets in Alstonefield at 10.00 am on Sunday 13 December. Lunch has been booked at the Waterloo Inn, so you need to contact me in advance (use the ‘Contact us’ button here) to get menu details and make a choice.
After yesterday’s sunshine, Mike Knipe and I braved the morning dreichness to rendezvous in Settle. Booth’s car park was a suitable rendezvous point, but in the absence of a cafĂ© therein we wandered up the street to a deserted looking ‘Poppies’ cafĂ©. The coffee was good, and seated in the far corner were some familiar faces – John Towers and his wife. ‘Out of context’ (ie not on the TGO Challenge) Mike and I were greeted by baffled looks, as if we had just arrived from the moon! John’s twin brother David soon arrived, and he and Mike burbled on for a while about their forthcoming 20th and 10th Challenges respectively, before Mike and I released ourselves into the misty atmosphere and rescued Bruno (Superdawg) from beneath a picnic table.
During our sojourn in the café the light rain had ceased, so we enjoyed a dry stroll to Malham and back, albeit in rather seriously overcastness.
Bruno took delight in being out on the hill, dragging his master up the path out of Settle.
The town remained in a November pall of smoke tainted vapour.
Up at Attermire, Mike pointed out some iron debris that he claimed had been used in wartime anti tank testing.
If they were testing the ‘bullets’, they passed, but if they were testing the armour plating – I’m sorry, but it failed!
Mike enjoyed one of his customary mid-morning snacks….
…before diving down a cave. There are many caves in this area – you are reprieved from my intended discourse on the ones we passed, due to the ‘Malham and Penyghent’ volume of ‘Northern Caves’ being ‘in preparation’ during my ‘caving phase’, so I’ll leave any extra information to Mike*. We did get quite muddy, though, and Bruno the cave dog was pleased to return to the surface as he hadn’t been provided with a lamp.
We probably managed just 10-15 metres down here, Miner’s Hole – in the vicinity of Pikedaw Calamine caverns, where gritstone meets limestone to provide numerous underground cave systems.
We passed a manhole cover under which a 23 metre ladder – about 9 inches wide, disappeared into the murky depths of a bell shaped cavern. Bruno declined the invitation to go down this, and a few minutes later decided he didn’t want to fetch this pair of electrically powered boots that had been put on a ‘washing line’ high above the path.
The Buck Inn welcomed us in, mud, dog and even Mike, to its warm interior and an excellent dose of Skipton Brewery’s Copper Kettle bitter. Here we met another group of ramblers – virtually the only folk we saw all day.
After stumbling off for more pies, we approached the magnificent rock wall of Malham Cove. Mike fantasized about the waterfall that must once have flowed over here, and about his previous life as a mountaineer, when he climbed here.
Today we climbed it by a different route, as Bruno had forgotten the rope, though he did lead his boss over some quite difficult terrain when he got the chance.
A fair part of the afternoon was spent on a well surfaced track that led from Langscar Gate, to the north of Langcliffe Scar, all the way to Jubilee Cave and beyond, whence we took a slithery footpath above Langcliffe, heading for the rapidly brightening lamps of Settle.
Here’s an outline of our 23 km route, with 830 metres ascent, taking around 7 hours, including some nice long breaks.
An excellent day out. Thanks for your company, Mike.
[Mike’s take on today’s walk, using the same photos but different text, is here.]
I believe we may meet again on Sunday 15 November for a walk up The Calf – meet at SD 698 969 at 9.30 am – all welcome.
* There’s no escape – Mike has emailed the cave data:
”Just to confirm the names and statistics of the caves on yesterday’s ramble:
The first one, which I thought was Spider Cave is actually Bivi Cave Grade 1 10 feet.
Pikedaw Calamine Caverns is 3200 feet Grade 2. The entrance pitch is 75 feet and there are several caverns : Cavern 84, Cavern 44 Cavern 104, The Great Shake, Mitchell's Cavern and an unnamed cavern containing the entrance pitch.
Miners Hole 240 feet Grade 2 (higher grade due to crawls).
Jubilee Cave 300 feet Grade 1 - is actually 3 adjacent caves - excavations found neolithic and celtic archeology.”