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BLENCATHRA (39)
Scroll down to view the photographs after the report or click here To-day I am heading over to the beautiful Lake District with a couple of friends that I met whilst attending my Mountain Leader Training Board course, Paul Hogg from Hartlepool and David Mogie from Stockton. Dave and Paul arrived at my house at about 7-45 a.m. on a Sunday morning. The weather wasn’t looking too promising with drizzle and strong winds, the latter causing sections of the A66 road to be closed in places to high-sided vehicles. Arrived in Threlkeld, parked the vehicle and were heading onto the fell-side for just after 9-30 a.m. The drizzle had stopped so hopefully my decision not to don my waterproofs would be the right one. From the car park we followed the low-level path crossing a bridge over Kilnhow Beck, skirting the base of Blencathra and heading for the little hamlet of Scales. The path crossed fields and passed through a farm yard which, so soon after the Foot and Mouth outbreak, made me half expect a farmer to come rushing out and stopping us in our tracks. Luckily the outbreak seems to be at an end so hopefully things will get back to normal, if things ever can. It was easy going if rather muddy in places, passing waterfalls along the way, which I always welcome seeing especially after heavy rain, and the kennels of the Blencathra Foxhounds. Looking up at the southern front of Blencathra reveals the five buttresses that make up this mountain, each named as a separate fell: Blease Fell, Gategill Fell, Hall’s Fell (the summit of Blencathra), Doddick Fell and Scales Fell. The three in the middle rise to distinct peaks which create the distinctive look of this mountain and which are responsible for its ‘other’ name of Saddleback, a name that Wainwright didn’t approve of! After crossing Gate Gill, Doddick Gill and Scaley Beck, we soon arrived at the base of Scales Fell, just above the hamlet of Scales itself. It was just after 10-30 a.m. and there were a few more people heading up the fell from here so we decided to stop for a coffee and a sandwich, sheltering from the wind behind a nearby dry stone wall. One of the topics of conversation was attempting a long distance walk, hopefully this year. Dave has completed a number over the years and may be tempted to add another one to his list! Something to work on! Suitably refreshed, we set-off heading for Scales Tarn which is situated beneath the impressive Sharp Edge, a rising crest of rock offering a challenging scramble to the top. The path steepened from here on and the breathing became heavier as we made our way around the back of Scales Fell. It was a pleasant walk, the path offering good views of the River Glendermackin snaking its way along below and to the right of us. Shortly the craggy outcrop of Brunt Knott and Scales Beck, the outflow from Scales Tarn, came into view ahead of us, my excitement levels rising at the thought of tackling Sharp Edge. We had to cross Scales Beck, which was flowing quite fast, and found a suitable crossing point allowing us to leap over; it was then a case of a short climb up the side of the cascading beck. The wind was picking up now and it was the spray being blown up from the tarn that greeted us well before the actual tarn came into view. When it was reached it was spectacular, set in a ‘bowl’ with Sharp Edge rising up behind it. Fantastic! There’s something special about mountain tarns, possibly the remoteness, but whatever it is, I am always impressed whenever I come across them. It was just before 12-00 noon so we decided to stop and have something to eat by the side of the tarn. Easier said than done. The wind was very strong and in fact was creating ‘waves’ across the tarn, which in turn made the water level at the outflow rise by a good 6 inches. The water would then flow back as the wind died, giving the effect of a ‘tidal tarn’! It was obvious whilst sitting there that it would be too risky to tackle Sharp Edge in these conditions. There were a couple of people already on Sharp Edge and one or two heading up that way but we would save it for another day. From the tarn we followed the distinct path up between Tarn Crags and Halls Fell Top, but not before the wind whipped-up more spray from the tarn and blew it in our direction. The path grew steeper and it was hard going against the wind although every now and again the wind would ease and the sun would peep out from behind the clouds. We heard a dog barking and it seemed to be coming from the direction of Tarn Crags. Paul went to investigate whilst Dave and I listened for further barking in the hope that we could direct him to it. Nothing was found and we came to the conclusion that the dog was probably on the ridge above and that the wind was playing tricks on us. Just before reaching the top we came across a small patch of snow. I quickly made a snowball and hurled it in Dave’s direction who duly returned the favour. The wind was very strong once the ridge was reached. Nearby is a landmark, a collection of white stones laid out on the grass in the shape of a cross approximately 16 feet by 10 feet, a memorial to a walker who lost his life on a rough slope nearby, but because of the conditions we decided it was best to head straight for the summit at 2,847 feet (868 metres). The wind was strong enough to blow us off our feet, so once a couple of photo’s had been taken we made our way directly off the top and headed down Hall’s Fell, not a straight forward descent as it turned out. The top part of Hall’s Fell is fairly craggy and was very slippery in places. At times we actually struggled to find any decent foot or hand holds and literally just slid down on our behinds. It made for an interesting descent. However, the worst was to come. Once the craggy section had been negotiated, and we had stopped for a coffee and a bite to eat in a sheltered spot overlooking Doddick Gill, it was just a case of following the well-worn track down Hall’s Fell, or so we thought! The wind became even stronger and knocked us off our feet time after time after time. Dave weighs over 16 stone and even he was having difficulty keeping up right. At one point we had been knocked over so often that we just laid there, and even though we were, at times, laughing hysterically, it was quite a hairy situation to be in and not one I would like to experience again in a hurry. I even felt the cheeks of my face rippling in the strong wind, just like a skydivers does when freefalling from an aeroplane. Eventually we neared the bottom of the fell but it had taken us a lot longer due to the high winds. We still managed to take in the somewhat misty views looking over to Derwentwater and Cat Bells. Splendid. As we approached the waterfall above Gategill, we spoke to another couple and their little dog that we had seen on the summit earlier, and they too had had a hard time. The dog looked happy though! From here Dave suggested heading straight into Threlkeld for a well-earned pint of Theakstones. Couldn’t argue with that! As we approached the village we found ourselves walking along, what Dave informed us was, part of the old A66. New one on me I must admit. Soon the pub came into sight, The Salutation Inn, and while Dave went for the car, I got the beers in and very nice they were too! There we sat reflecting on the days walk, our faces stinging and burning from the constant battering of the wind, but with that satisfying sense of achievement that only comes after a good day on the fells. Next up? Helvellyn with a bit of luck :o)
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