Memories on Cat Bells
Posted: Tue Aug 20, 2013 9:38 pmThis walk was a father and daughter day out with the excuse being to help Hughie catch up in the bagging stakes. Cat Bells during the summer holidays is, to say the least, a popular hill and the most difficult part of the day was getting parked. Eventually we managed to dump the car along the Grange end of the road and set off up the hill.
Grace and Hughie by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Looking up Borrowdale by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
A trip up Cat Bells is as much of an exercise in people watching as it is looking at views. Many of the torrent of bodies moving at various speeds up the hill could be split onto obvious groups: those walking up their first hill full of wonder, those that were finding this the hardest most pointless activity ever and those who were terrified by this precipitous mountain.
On the way down we came across a man pleading with his wife to walk up one of the rockier sections on Cat Bells northern ridge. She wasn’t budging however and was close to cragfast.
Not sure what I’d have done if Nicola or Grace reacted like this the first time we walked up a hill. 
Hello Mrs Robinson by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Newlands Valley by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Click on Link for Larger version http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnkaysleftleg/9555594377/in/photostream/
Seeing all of this made me think back almost six years ago to the day when Cat Bells was our first ever Wainwright. Needless to say we were in the full of wonder group with my clearest memory being grace just about running up the final pull to the summit, not sure she’s moved as fast since.
It also made me think about the places our walking has taken us in the years since we last climbed up here. I’m not sure I thought for one second that we’d have bagged over a hundred Wainwrights and over two hundred tops of various types, stood on the Cuillin ridge and Blaven or developed the confidence to wander off up pathless hills in the Outer Hebrides over rough open country, it’s been quite a wonderful journey so far.
It has transformed all our lives and perhaps my life most of all. I spend my time either writing reports or planning walks to do in the future. I used to get upset about football, now I get upset about a bad weather forecast on a free day (or a good one when we can’t get out). I can say for sure that I’ll be climbing up hills for the rest of my active life; the thought of not doing so just doesn't enter my head.
I’ll stop rambling now and post some photos of the walk because for a small hill it certainly has some wonderful views.
Hurcules over Derwent Water by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Grace and Hughie on Cat Bells by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Derwent Water Mono by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Newlands Valley by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Lakeland Contrasts by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Sunlit Skiddaw by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Hands on by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Grace and Hughie by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Looking up Borrowdale by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
A trip up Cat Bells is as much of an exercise in people watching as it is looking at views. Many of the torrent of bodies moving at various speeds up the hill could be split onto obvious groups: those walking up their first hill full of wonder, those that were finding this the hardest most pointless activity ever and those who were terrified by this precipitous mountain.
On the way down we came across a man pleading with his wife to walk up one of the rockier sections on Cat Bells northern ridge. She wasn’t budging however and was close to cragfast.
Not sure what I’d have done if Nicola or Grace reacted like this the first time we walked up a hill. Hello Mrs Robinson by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Newlands Valley by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Click on Link for Larger version http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnkaysleftleg/9555594377/in/photostream/
Seeing all of this made me think back almost six years ago to the day when Cat Bells was our first ever Wainwright. Needless to say we were in the full of wonder group with my clearest memory being grace just about running up the final pull to the summit, not sure she’s moved as fast since.
It also made me think about the places our walking has taken us in the years since we last climbed up here. I’m not sure I thought for one second that we’d have bagged over a hundred Wainwrights and over two hundred tops of various types, stood on the Cuillin ridge and Blaven or developed the confidence to wander off up pathless hills in the Outer Hebrides over rough open country, it’s been quite a wonderful journey so far.
It has transformed all our lives and perhaps my life most of all. I spend my time either writing reports or planning walks to do in the future. I used to get upset about football, now I get upset about a bad weather forecast on a free day (or a good one when we can’t get out). I can say for sure that I’ll be climbing up hills for the rest of my active life; the thought of not doing so just doesn't enter my head.
I’ll stop rambling now and post some photos of the walk because for a small hill it certainly has some wonderful views.
Hurcules over Derwent Water by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Grace and Hughie on Cat Bells by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Derwent Water Mono by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Newlands Valley by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Lakeland Contrasts by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Sunlit Skiddaw by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
Hands on by johnkaysleftleg, on Flickr
love that hercules shot 
