'Ian's Indulgence' - 11 to 13 October 1985

 

Memories of a fine weekend in beautiful weather. Sadly, neither Dafydd nor John is able to share these reminiscences with the rest of us. We remember them fondly.

 

11 to 13 October 1985

Ian's Indulgence

 

Inch Events Inc, in association with D Wynn, organise a trip for JM as they haven't seen him for a while.

Accordingly, Inch and JM pitch up at Glenridding and adjourn to pub by 9:30. Inchsport is a new Alfa as the old one got crushed by an articulated lorry on the A1. Why didn't he send postcards from Peterborough Hospital?

Wynn, Scruby and Banfield leave Manchester 7:15 pm, Wynn's ancient charabanc being left at South Drive. Fish and chips in Penrith, then on to the campsite, and reach pub by 10:15 after leisurely pitching of tents.

Clear night, cool, but all have winter gear. 

Saturday (MB)

Still no cloud (all day).

Dafydd's sausages pervade the atmosphere and everyone lazily gets up. Only two or three other campers on the site, which is well equipped with new fittings and lots of hot water.

 

 

9:45 departure up Helvellyn via Mires Beck (Martin) Nab Crag (the rest) and Striding Edge (all). Martin finds a contouring path to the right at the end of Striding Edge, with a good view of Red Tarn and an exit to the summit.

Brew up / flask / water bottle / lunch stop, then on to Nethermost Pike then Dollywagon Pike.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Antics with delayed action photos. Dafydd and John were particularly perplexed.

Down to Grisedale Tarn for a lengthy break and observation of:

1. dogs which wouldn't cross the stream and had to be carried;

2. knackered noisy Geordies.

Martin tried to take an aquatic delayed action shot.

 

 

 

Looking back, from near Grisedale Tarn

 

 

On along a contouring path to the ridge north of Cofa Pike.

Martin lost the rest. On up Deepdale Hause to the summit of St Sunday Crag. Lots of people here, as everywhere, all day, due to superb weather.

Another variation: everyone except Dafydd and Martin also went up Fairfield.

II and JM recommend the pub grub in the Gloucester Arms in Penrith. Everyone ate sausages and beef risotto and stumbled down the track to the Glenridding Hotel for fizzy Websters.

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday (II) 

The Knott to Racecourse Hill the hard way

Dafydd gets the weak bladder award (04:00 hrs). Everyone else slept soundly until the sound of primuses and osmotic pressure forces everyone to get up. Decamped and loaded cars. In trying to extricate Martin's motor from the mire. Dafydd says "what gear is it in" trying to be clever. "Reverse" came the reply.

Anyhow, we parked at Hartsop and flogged up to Hayeswater.

 

 

 

Having warmed up, there was then a severe grind up to The Knott, followed by a discourse from JM on blue wardrobes (IBM - it's being mended) on top of the hill. It transpired that it was a stretcher case and not a mainframe computer.

 

 

Sensible people would have walked along High Street to Racecourse Hill from here. Nothing that logical would do. Haweswater looked attractive, so we made a traverse of Kidsty Pike to look for the reclusive Golden Eagles. They were hiding very well. We did spot four deer (Roe Deer we think), but no Goldies.

 

 

Down to Haweswater. It was delightful to sit in the sun watching Martin trying to take photos of a dilapidated bridge. A delightful spot.

 

(MB) Continued from the bridge over Riggindale Beck across The Rigg, and headed directly up Heron Crag / Rough Crag and eventually up Long Stile to the summit of High Street (828m). Hazy but fine and warm but not too hot.
 

 

 

Good view back down the ridge. Lots of cars at the Mardale Beck end of Haweswater - out of proportion with the number of people seen.

 

 

Here's the last photo from the trip - Dafydd in typical pose on the top of High Street.

 

 

A race against mist on Racecourse Hill was followed by a swift descent to Threshthwaite Mouth and thence down Pasture Beck and back to Hartsop.

Pleasant weather again.

Took the Windermere route home and found lots of traffic jams, the longest one caused by a farmer taking several cows for a long hike.

Concluded with an Indian meal at the Asia before Martin went to High Wycombe.

 

 

Above is an approximation of both days' routes. The statistics are pretty much identical - 21 km, with about 1300 metres ascent. Click on the image for a better version.

Saturday 26 January 1985 – Ben Vorlich (Loch Lomond)

When Sue and I went up Ben Vorlich a couple of weeks ago I recalled clearly, or so I thought, the views we enjoyed on my previous visit. I’ve now found the diary entry and some snaps (no negatives) from that trip. The images in this posting are therefore photographs of some fairly ancient 6” x 4” prints. (On ‘reflection’ they may have been better scanned, as the photos have picked up reflections from the dark surfaces of the matt prints.) Our clothing and equipment has changed quite a bit since then.

In those days our little group of ‘trippers’'’ took turns in writing ‘The Diary’. On this occasion it was Laurence who drew the short straw. Here’s what he wrote, with captioned pictures inserted as appropriate:

“Rendezvous at Rising Sun. Friday 6.30 pm. ‘Outside the door’ should have been specified as it was too crowded to get inside with gear. Prompt departure to Oswald Road to collect shovel. Thereafter smooth journey with meal break at Gretna, arriving at Ardlui 12.15 am.

Laurie is trying out his new tent, and making one or two discoveries about the principles of comfortable camping. The hard way. The ground is frozen solid, though clear of snow. Pegs bend and fingers go numb, and pitching takes ages. Dave and Martin share their warm tent with a light and cooking facilities; Laurie has a rather chilly night.

[Must bring sleeping bag next time!] comments Dave.

Morning brings a perfectly clear and sunny sky with snow everywhere except the first few hundred feet of the valley. We walk over the railway and up the east ridge. Soon come across footprints along our intended way. Snow quite fresh, soft or slightly crusty, so these prints are a lot of help. Mostly in the shade despite the sun and complete absence of cloud.


Waterfall on the slopes of Ben Vorlich


Dave, Laurie and Martin modelling 1980’s knitwear and wooden ice axes

The ridge eventually leads to Ben Vorlich (3082 ft), and the last part is in and out of a bitterly cold wind. Snowy peaks to the distance in every direction.


Views from the ascent of Ben Vorlich from Ardlui

Dave on Ben Vorlich

Dave and Martin taking all the classic photo shots. [Not sure about that!]


Summit view south to Ben Lomond from Ben Vorlich

Laurie has to hack ice away from the trig point to find its number – 6510 (ancient tradition of trig point collecting). Also attempts to eat a mango but fails when the juice freezes on his lips. Everyone puts on an extra layer at this point.


Searching for the trig point number on Ben Vorlich*

Descend over Little Hills, diverted by good footprints into lower valley. Snow softer and deeper here; pretty hard work. No long slides – shorter ones taken at various angles and orientations (including head first) by all.


On the slithery descent over the Little Hills

Entire descent in shadow, arriving back at camp at 4.30.”

Always one for the last word, I added a few further comments about our being unsure whether we were camping on grass or concrete; meeting a solo artist from Nottingham, also camping, in the Ardlui Hotel – it seems we followed his footprints from the previous day; menus, and a note that Laurie spilt his dinner and ate it from his groundsheet; whinge about everything that had been in liquid form having frozen; futile attempts to moderate alcohol intake given the memory of some pretty awful hangovers on the same trip in 1984.

Overall memories of a fine day in the hills with lots of fresh snow and glistening ice crystals, Laurie’s unpreparedness and (Dave comments) Martin’s clumsiness.

Not mentioned in the old diary is my abiding memory of this trip - the long view* from Ben Vorlich’s summit towards the city of Glasgow, which in my recollection sat below a thick layer of mist beyond Loch Lomond.

Thanks to Laurie for inadvertently providing the main text, and to both him and Dave for many happy memories. I hope you both enjoy this posting.

How better to spend a rainy Friday morning in Timperley?