Gravity and Great Gable
Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 7:43 pm
Another one down, 4 to go!
That's 4 more walks to do to achieve my goal of all the Wainwrights in one winter. The deadline is Saturday 26th March, a week and 4 days from the date of this walk. The clocks go forward at 2 a.m. Sunday morning, so technically I have until then. Don't really want to leave it quite that late though!
So close to success, I'm feeling a new emotion - nervousness. I've experienced plenty of reluctance, even dread about getting out there during the course of this winter, but this is different. I'm nervous about things going wrong now that could spoil everything. Anything from a twisted ankle to a train crash to an unexpected bout of bubonic plague. Well, I was right to fear injury: I very nearly took a bad fall on this one. It might well have been fatal, and would almost certainly have been a deal breaker (along with a few broken bones). Incredibly stupidly, I decided to climb Base Brown, the first of the day, by a direct assault up its crags. There is a path marked on there, but I saw no sign of the start of it and simply set out up a bit that looked doable. Only when I was on it did I see how difficult it was. Boulders and clefts combined with half-dead heather and wet sponge to make it almost impossible. I got to the point where it was probably more dangerous to go down than continue up.
I squeezed my way up a gully not really wide enough for a human and relied on the smallest of toe-holds. I hauled myself up by hand-holds on the heather tufts and stems of shrubbery, carefully ascertaining first whether they were connected strongly enough to the ground. Some were not, and merely dead remnants that would sent me plunging. Plunge is what I did at one point, a moment of real peril. I had enough sense to choose a line that offered some kind of safety net below, such as a cluster of vegetation, if I did fall. This is exactly what happened. I fell only a couple of metres, but was totally out of control for that instant. I slithered into some thick heather which I was able to grab and took my weight. Below would have been a complete freefall of about 10 metres down steep rocks doing I shudder to think what damage. My heart and lungs were racing. Gradually the contours became safer, and half an hour later I was on the summit, having cost far more energy than saved.
Here I discovered the damage done, when I tried to take photographs. The LCD screen on my camcorder was busted, showing a few strange zigzags but mostly black. in all the adrenaline I'd forgotten I was carrying it in my trouser pocket. I reckon it got crushed in the gully, or bashed in when I fell. Here's the good news, though: it still seemed to be taking pics, and indeed here they are It's just that I couldn't see what I was taking, and from then on had to guess what I had in-frame and hold the thing level as best I could. Just to be sure of getting some good ones, I took lots! Pics are a vital part of the mission to me. I want to remember all this hardship! So, no broken bones and no death, but a rather expensive ascent of Base Brown. All that remained now were the more major fells ahead and 5 more hours of walking.
After almost becoming a mountain rescue statistic earlier, the rest of the walk passed less dramatically. Even so, it was no easy stroll. There was still some snow left above 2000 feet, and the down-up (Wind Gap) between Green and Great Gable was quite hazardous. The trouble is it was so soft, offering no purchase at all, and awkward choosing whether to walk on it or find rocks instead. After meeting a chap on the summit of Great Gable who was very pleased with himself for getting up there soon after a hip operation (and so he should be, well done indeed), my thoughts turned to my own knees.
After the last outing, I was feeling the strain. I've crammed a lot n this month. They were hurting, and I had my doubts about doing this walk. Therefore, losing the path down to Beck Head between Gable and Kirk Fell was not ideal. I found myself scrambling down the steep screes, a bit of a nightmare if not quite the peril of earlier. Things went without hitch after that, but I could have done without the out and back trek up Kirk Fell. Really should have tagged it onto my Pillar day last week, just as I mentioned at the time! It would have added less to that than it added to this. The Western Fells are serious fells, no doubt. And this was in perfect weather!
Brandreth and Grey Knotts were far simpler and difficult to have an accident on. Also, they were far less interesting in themselves, but there was a kind of timeless fascination in all the decayed metal fences up there. The views in all directions were excellent too. The day smoothed out happily. At first I wondered why Wainwright bothered to include Fleetwith Pike, a very unexceptional-looking fell with slate mine scarring to boot. However, the view from the end of it is one of the best in the entire district. As a further bonus, just as I was cursing myself for straying off-path on the way back and walking into sponge, I encountered the most interesting bit of wildlife since the stag of Haweswater on New Years Eve. This time the creatures (plural) were smaller: a colony of frogs. At first I only heard them, a real chorus they made. Then, on closer inspection of the patch of water too small to be considered a tarn or even marked on the map, there they were. Scores of the little fellows, some of them eyeing me up above the waterline
The day finished with a simple stroll down Honister Pass to catch the bus from Seatoller. The Coast to Coast footpath mostly avoided the need to walk on the road, even though my knees would have preferred the latter. The C to C sign has given me ideas, for when this campaign is over. I hardly dare think that far ahead, though. As I proved spectacularly today, many things can still go wrong. My knees didn't feel much worse, if at all, than they did before I started, so that's some good news. Tomorrow, another train and bus journey, but with the Coledale horeshoe at the end of it. That should be easier!
That's 4 more walks to do to achieve my goal of all the Wainwrights in one winter. The deadline is Saturday 26th March, a week and 4 days from the date of this walk. The clocks go forward at 2 a.m. Sunday morning, so technically I have until then. Don't really want to leave it quite that late though!
So close to success, I'm feeling a new emotion - nervousness. I've experienced plenty of reluctance, even dread about getting out there during the course of this winter, but this is different. I'm nervous about things going wrong now that could spoil everything. Anything from a twisted ankle to a train crash to an unexpected bout of bubonic plague. Well, I was right to fear injury: I very nearly took a bad fall on this one. It might well have been fatal, and would almost certainly have been a deal breaker (along with a few broken bones). Incredibly stupidly, I decided to climb Base Brown, the first of the day, by a direct assault up its crags. There is a path marked on there, but I saw no sign of the start of it and simply set out up a bit that looked doable. Only when I was on it did I see how difficult it was. Boulders and clefts combined with half-dead heather and wet sponge to make it almost impossible. I got to the point where it was probably more dangerous to go down than continue up.
I squeezed my way up a gully not really wide enough for a human and relied on the smallest of toe-holds. I hauled myself up by hand-holds on the heather tufts and stems of shrubbery, carefully ascertaining first whether they were connected strongly enough to the ground. Some were not, and merely dead remnants that would sent me plunging. Plunge is what I did at one point, a moment of real peril. I had enough sense to choose a line that offered some kind of safety net below, such as a cluster of vegetation, if I did fall. This is exactly what happened. I fell only a couple of metres, but was totally out of control for that instant. I slithered into some thick heather which I was able to grab and took my weight. Below would have been a complete freefall of about 10 metres down steep rocks doing I shudder to think what damage. My heart and lungs were racing. Gradually the contours became safer, and half an hour later I was on the summit, having cost far more energy than saved.
Here I discovered the damage done, when I tried to take photographs. The LCD screen on my camcorder was busted, showing a few strange zigzags but mostly black. in all the adrenaline I'd forgotten I was carrying it in my trouser pocket. I reckon it got crushed in the gully, or bashed in when I fell. Here's the good news, though: it still seemed to be taking pics, and indeed here they are It's just that I couldn't see what I was taking, and from then on had to guess what I had in-frame and hold the thing level as best I could. Just to be sure of getting some good ones, I took lots! Pics are a vital part of the mission to me. I want to remember all this hardship! So, no broken bones and no death, but a rather expensive ascent of Base Brown. All that remained now were the more major fells ahead and 5 more hours of walking.
After almost becoming a mountain rescue statistic earlier, the rest of the walk passed less dramatically. Even so, it was no easy stroll. There was still some snow left above 2000 feet, and the down-up (Wind Gap) between Green and Great Gable was quite hazardous. The trouble is it was so soft, offering no purchase at all, and awkward choosing whether to walk on it or find rocks instead. After meeting a chap on the summit of Great Gable who was very pleased with himself for getting up there soon after a hip operation (and so he should be, well done indeed), my thoughts turned to my own knees.
After the last outing, I was feeling the strain. I've crammed a lot n this month. They were hurting, and I had my doubts about doing this walk. Therefore, losing the path down to Beck Head between Gable and Kirk Fell was not ideal. I found myself scrambling down the steep screes, a bit of a nightmare if not quite the peril of earlier. Things went without hitch after that, but I could have done without the out and back trek up Kirk Fell. Really should have tagged it onto my Pillar day last week, just as I mentioned at the time! It would have added less to that than it added to this. The Western Fells are serious fells, no doubt. And this was in perfect weather!
Brandreth and Grey Knotts were far simpler and difficult to have an accident on. Also, they were far less interesting in themselves, but there was a kind of timeless fascination in all the decayed metal fences up there. The views in all directions were excellent too. The day smoothed out happily. At first I wondered why Wainwright bothered to include Fleetwith Pike, a very unexceptional-looking fell with slate mine scarring to boot. However, the view from the end of it is one of the best in the entire district. As a further bonus, just as I was cursing myself for straying off-path on the way back and walking into sponge, I encountered the most interesting bit of wildlife since the stag of Haweswater on New Years Eve. This time the creatures (plural) were smaller: a colony of frogs. At first I only heard them, a real chorus they made. Then, on closer inspection of the patch of water too small to be considered a tarn or even marked on the map, there they were. Scores of the little fellows, some of them eyeing me up above the waterline
The day finished with a simple stroll down Honister Pass to catch the bus from Seatoller. The Coast to Coast footpath mostly avoided the need to walk on the road, even though my knees would have preferred the latter. The C to C sign has given me ideas, for when this campaign is over. I hardly dare think that far ahead, though. As I proved spectacularly today, many things can still go wrong. My knees didn't feel much worse, if at all, than they did before I started, so that's some good news. Tomorrow, another train and bus journey, but with the Coledale horeshoe at the end of it. That should be easier!