What's in my Sack?

Again, due to being unable to dash down the A66 to bag a peak or two cos of shifts etc I'm unable to do a blog about a walk, but I wanna keep it running so I thought I'd write about something related, and not depressing like my last one.

I've noticed whilst Kel and me have been clambering up the elusive 214 and also on our days out on the Teesdale and Weardale ways, I carry what looks like a heck of amount of kit. On the 'Dale' ways I really think I could ditch a few items from my day sack, but I feel the need to keep it packed as for the lakes.  My theory is if I take a tumble and the weather closes in, I might have to spend a night on the hills before I get casivaced off. So I carry the kit to keep me warm and fed/watered until at least mid day the next day. Call me paranoid but if I've learnt something in my time in the forces, it's to always expect the unexpected.  It boils my pee when I see families up the higher fells with just one day sack between them with only their bait in.  I'm sure some people think "mountain rescue we'll be there if we need them" so let's walk light!!

So this blog is simply, What's in my sack!" The title is meant to be an attention grabber and I do know that most of you will go "oooo errr missus" but it is important to know what's in my sack (oh pack it in, sniggering at the back!).

Ok, let's start with my sack ( I said pack it in).  I didn't scrimp with the cost, I've only ever had two others before so I think quality is the way ahead when it comes to day sacks. Mine is The North Face 'Terra 30' which is not the lightest but it's like a Tardis and the back system is good for me. I've not had it too long but it's a great piece of kit and should last. Pockets and storage everywhere and the waterproof cover easy to hand and a colour which would be excellent if you ever want to be found in bad weather. 

Starting form the top, the flip lid is accommodating,  I don't like the zip across tops as I feel you lose valuable, easy to reach storage without the lid to hide away the smaller items I carry.

In the lid, I've got the first aid kit (you have to have), two hand warmers, my faithful compass, mini torch and a multi function knife which I've had since joining the army, over twenty years ago. I also have the waterproof cover for my mobile. A lot of people think that's over the top but out of all your kit, the mobile phone Is your life line, plus you can tweet on route, he he!

The side pouches have my Berghaus hat and gloves which are excellent for taking the chill off my head and hands, also my buff. Please note it of the camouflage variety as I cannot seem to get rid of my forces past, sad git I know.

In the front pocket is always my Multimat used for sitting on when stuffing my face with the fine fair Kel always knocks up for our walks. Also in that pouch goes the map of the day, plus the relevant AW book so I can identify the surrounding peaks once at the summit.

The main compartment is reserved for the following:

Quilted 'softy' jacket which I've had for ever.

A 'Rab' fleece to take the chill of the start of a walk.

A 'Rab' wind proof jacket that is invaluable for bait stops to take the chill off a sweaty back and the lining is really cosy.

Petzl head torch, I've had this forever and really should get a new one as this one needs the old big square battery at the back of my head (maybe Xmas list?!).

At the bottom area which is sectioned off I keep my waterproofs for ease. And as winter has arrived I've added big skiing gloves, boot spikes and a balaclava to rob the nearest 'Deli' when Kel gets peckish.

So to sum up, I carry a lot, but I won't be the daft halfwit which wastes much needed money calling the mountain rescue because they've 'got tired, or hurt my ankle'. I can survive a night on the hill, maybe two, but I wont look like a bell end end I call the emergency services cos I'm cold up a hill!!

PS.  Ive got a whistle and a safety blanket in amongst everything else for the worse case scenario!!

Dale Head Via Hindscarth

Wednesday, 26th October 2011 We parked up at the small car park just outside Little Town near Chapel Bridge.  As we put on our boots my focus was on the clouds gathering above Dale Head and wondering whether to put my waterproofs on straight away or chance it.  Kel was deciding which 'Rab' product to wear today and would her purple body warmer clash with heather on Hindscarth. 

The five of us set off up past the very white church with its very neat grave stones after crossing the bridge over Newlands Beck.  About 500 metres up the road we took a left over a field towards Low House Farm and then headed for the base of Hindscarth, turning right behind the farm at Low Snab.

Just before the farm the heavens opened and out came the waterproofs, totally messing up Kel's colour scheme, what would the sheep think!?

The ascent of Hindscarth was under way and I'll admit, I was a wee bit out of breath, it's quite a steep start and all five of us were sucking in air from Swindon.  The route has a few cheeky surprises in the form of a few little scrambles, which generally I embrace but the rain had made the rock a tad slippery and the air started to get a bit blue with some delightful expletives from all parties, except Richard who is too young to swear.  We battled through the occasional showers and made it past Scope End and hit High Crags.

It was then where nature though she'd have a laugh in the form of horizontally blown sleet, and it was bitterly cold.  All five heads went down and the chat stopped as the only way to see was looking at the floor and occasionally looking at the water dripping off the person in front.  Luckily the scrambles had finished and it was just the towering figure of Hindscarth to think about, plus the sleet.  A good 30 minutes icy rain and a patch of blue sky appeared and so did some smiles. Now, I love wintry weather as much as the next bloke, but I was glad to see the sleet stop and feel a bit of warmth on my face. 

  

Be warned, the top of Hindscarth has a sense of humour too, this comes in the form of the old false summit trick. Which Sue was finding hilarious, not!!   Kel had learned from climbing Carlside last year that 'you're not at the top, until you're at the top'. So, after about 3 or 4 "ya jokin me's” from Sue we reached the sheltered Cairn at the top.  My ham, cheese and salad sarnies were well and truly on my mind now but Dicko, who was on point, decided the next sheltered Cairn was more suitable.  The sun was now beating down but still quite chilly, so I decided to leave on my windproof Rab jacket, which I usually only put on at prolonged breaks, with my waterproof on top just in case nature got bored again and decided to soak us through. 

The short walk to the top of Dale Head was pleasant but boggy, but I had my gaiters on so I just plodded through the countless bogs and puddles until we hit Hindscarth Edge, where I looked right and saw an old friend, Fleetwith Pike which I'd met a couple of days earlier. 

The top was pleasant and it was handshakes all round.  A few piccys were taken and a clothing rethink for some. A lonely photographer was perched against the pile of stones and looked very wet. He looked like he'd been there sometime waiting for the 'money shot' of the Newlands Valley with Skiddaw in the distance. The next point was Dalehaed Tarn which we couldn't see, but a steep descent down towards the top of Dalehead Crags and a right turn revealed the Tarn.

Now at this point I’d realised Kel had gone from being a normal (ish) female human to a famous baby deer on ice. The route to the Tarn now has a couple of arse shaped dents in the descent, not big dents (she's sat next to me as I type).  We had a break at the Tarn while Sue caught up as she was taking it slow after watching 'Bambi' hit the deck on the way down.

There is a nice green sheltered area with a wall round for a nice wild camp which is good to know for the summer. 

So the descent was on and this time I made sure Kel was in front of me so I could see any more falls instead of just hearing the now familiar 'thump' followed by the unmistakeable laugh which now seems to be the norm for the way down, maybe get a few piccys of her tumbles for my blog. 

The water falls on the way down are gorgeous will be revisited probably next year for some closer shots, but now the aim was to descend and find hit the Swinside pub. However, the mood was good and got even better when I had the pleasure of witnessing a triple back flip pirouette followed by a bit of Greek dancing that would make Michael Flatley envious.  Yep, Kel had gone again, the outcome could've been A&E worthy but she managed to pull it off with getting only one hand muddy....amazing ha!!  

We began to level off and spirits were high, we even had pleasure of witnessing Kel slip, again, on the smallest rock in Cumbria and fall flat on her face.  As I started to Google the air ambulance emergency number she went again near Barnes Gill.  But as the last few tumbles were followed by the echoing sound of "I need new boots", I started to feel a bit of a scam was unfolding. We finished the walk relatively fall free but entered the car park with smiling faces and the wanting of a beer.   The Swinside Inn has cracking views for a few good beers and the landlord has good craic.

AW compares this peak with Eel Crag for their craggy northern fronts and views of Skiddaw. I really enjoyed the walk and it may be worth the new boots Kel wants for Christmas. 

Lingmoor Fell

Tuesday, 25th October 2011 and after a 'rest day' at Ingelton Waterfalls we decided to meet up with our friends Ian (Dicko) and his missus Sue, with their son Richard.  They're staying at Dicko's brothers cottage in Bassenthwaite for the week and are keen hikers.  The objective was Lingmoor Fell.  We met them in the car park of a pub near Thirlmere (can't remember the name, how shocking is that?) and followed them to a car park Walthwaite Bottom to park up.  However, on route we took an unplanned detour round about Huntingstile Crag on the smallest road known to man with passing places.  I was following Dicko in his Yaris and we came to a halt to let another car through using a passing place.  The car passed safely and it was Dicko's turn to set off.  We were on a decent incline and he put his foot down, however the road was covered with fallen leaves and the front left wheel on the Yaris started to spin, but instead of taking his foot off the accelerator, the wheel stared to smoke and me and Kel were choking on the fumes of the burning tyre.  The passing car went on its merry way but Dicko was still struggling to get grip, we had to reverse twenty metres before he could get traction. 

We parked up at Walthwaite, took the piss out of Dicko and headed off.  We had to cross the bridge in the very nice village of Elterwater and took a right.  This is quite a navigational minefield and it took some thinking about what route was where etc.  But we selected a route passed the quarry and headed off towards Elterwater Hall. Took a right and headed towards Baysbrown Wood where it's climbs to a nice sheltered dry stone wall for a well deserved brew and another piss take of the spinning smoking wheel incident.  We hopped across the farm, gate which the farmer had kindly welded steps onto the bars to help our passing.  Took a sharp right towards the summit.  The route is fairly easy with a dry stone wall leading you near enough to the top where the there's a very good view.  Windermere, Elterwater Water and even the Irish Sea was in clear view.   

  The ascent was  quite blustery and even the gloves had to come out for everyone.  We passed Brown How and crossed the stile with the summit in sight. As we sat and admired the Langdales and countless fells to the north west, including Scafell, I couldn't help feeling envious for the occupants of the few farms and cottages that lay in the Great Langdales valley whose every waking moment is my current view.  Bastards!!!

Anyway Blea Tarn looked lovely in the sun and reflecting the ripples were quite prominent as we dropped dramatically then headed right over a brand spanking new gate to meet the Cumbrian Way just before the Great Langdale Beck. We then followed the a very boggy Cumbrian Way to the a crossing at the beck, chance for a boot wash, then headed off to the Wainwrights Inn.  Chance for a cheeky pint then back to the car, we did get a fairly good shot of a Heron on the Beck before turning to the car park.

Done and a fairly good walk, had a few good laughs on route mainly due to Kel's slippery boots but a belting hike.  Highly recommended and great views.

Just a quick one before our week in The Lakes...

So, my last shift done and what a long old slog?!  1700hrs just never seemed to arrive and it seemed more like 24hrs rather than just eleven.  Anyway, quickly saw Kelly at work as she started at 1400hrs but I managed to get to ASDA before I came home.  To my delight, Smirnoff litre bottles on offer for £13 so I got a couple, plus Kelly's normal vat of Pinot and headed home.  I had two jobs when I got in, clean rabbit and fish tank.  Both jobs executed in text book fashion then time to chill and #FF on Twitter and read up on the Gadaffi carry on.

OK we're setting off tomorrow (saturday) and get to the static about teatime and chill, plan a route up Haystacks, most probably with X factor as noise in the background.  We've decided for Haystacks on Sunday as Kelly's been going on about it for ages and it will be a nice leg stretcher for the week ahead.  We still haven't confirmed the next few walks but we will be visiting Ingleton Water Falls for some photo's for Kelly (Just realised our boots are upside down) but I also think we'll be in the Dog & Gun more than once.
As I said just a quicky and if you see us in the next week be it on a Fell or in a pub, give us a wave.  Signing off now to find my Smirnoff! 

Blencathra via Sharp edge

Friday comes and it's time to pack the Aygo and head off to Kel's sisters static caravan in Morland with an intention of putting Blencathra in the slow filling Wainwright bag on Saturday.  Heading down the A66 the clouds were looking pretty grim.  The North Pennines were cloud covered which generally means our first sight of Blencathra will be even more grim and the prospect of scaling it impossible.  Detours to Keswick and Pooley Bridge were also a disappointment as they were grey and miserable on both the photo side of life and culinary options.  We had a quick sarnie in the Oddfellows and sped off back to our accommodation.  With the words " if you think I'm going up Sharp Edge in this weather you've got no chance marra" jingling round in my head, I settled down to an earlish night, with a little prayer for sunshine the next day.  Kel's sister and brother in law had by then joined us at the caravan with Bruce, the largest German Shepherd known to man.

Early start due to the donkeys in the field next door giving it six nowt on the 'ee oorr' front about 7am or Bruce storming around like a mad dog since death o'clock.  Anyway my sleepy eyes were greeted by the most stunning sunshine and the prospect of tackling Sharp Edge with the summit of Blencathra as a reward.  However, because the sun was shining and it was the weekend, parking at Scales was always going to be a problem... and it was... for a normal sized car, but not for the Aygo.  Parked in the smallest space ever we got our boots on.  We started heading off to towards Mousthwaite Comb but took a sharp left between Scales Fell and White Horse Bent with a cheeky beck sneaking its way between the pair.  As the beck replaces the noise of the A66 with the gentle trickle of the numerous inlets from the top of Scales Fell, we see our first sight of Sharp Edge.  It looks very, very nice.  There's still about a km and a half before we reach the bottom of Sharp Edge and at the moment it's blocked by Brunt Knott, which in itself is quite a decent chunk of rock and I had the urge to scramble it, apparently there is a route but no one wants to do it. 

Anyway, Kel was more interested by the little Scales Beck creeping down the between Scales Fell and the Knott, I could hear shutter speeds getting slower and slower.  We evetually reached Scales Tarn and the sun was beating down, because of this the world and his wife were having their bait, all sat looking at the sun reflecting of the gentle ripples on the water.  So, to my right was the reason I'd trekked the relativley short approach along the side of Scales Fell... Sharp Edge!!  It didn't look too bad but there appeared to be a couple of people on all fours?!  We walked the last few meters to the base and decided to have a choccy fix and stow the camera in my day sack.  I can take Kel falling off but that bloody camera cost chuffing loads.  We set off and almost immediately a guy came storming past us and stopped at the Cairn which had been errected at the base.  He began to dissmantle the Cairn with what only I can describe as a 'frenzzie'.  He ran up the Edge and sat at the top shouting instructions at hikers, "Don't use that path (the wuss path up the side)".  He then began to, in a humourous way, question the equipment people were wearing as they passed.  Kel and I were laughing at the craic but he seemed happy.  I then saw his ID card, which explained his behaviour, 'Lake District Volunteer Warden'.  Ha, a passion of which I concur.  Anyway, I'm glad the enviromental agency were not in attendence as the air was 'blue' as Kel scaled her way across the edge, apparently even the notion of me asking if she was 'ok' produced a reaction that could only be replicated if I asked her for a 'twosome' with the rabbit.  But I should've known after Striding Edge, the phrase "will ya f**k off" is not the reply I'd have expected from someone holding their hand out for help.  So, we clumber up the edge and are closely followed by the warden who threw occassional jibes at anyone who veered off the Edge or was wearing any clothing of which he disapproved.  We leave the Edge with a few of Kel's nails lodged in the rock and think about bait at the top. 

The summit (shown with Alfred chilling out) was quite populated and, even though I love dogs, it was like Crufts.  I normally expect Springers, terriers and the the Labs, but there was a sausage dog which looked knackered.  We pecked away at our sarnies looking over towards the back of Skiddaw then headed off towards Scales Fell with the intention of a swift right turn down Doddick Fell.  The right turn brought a lovely view of Derwentwater and Thirlmere, I've never experienecd such a clear day in the Lakes, every peak was clear.  We headed off down Doddick and I decided to take a look back at the top and heard a 'thump', I turned round to witness Kel sat on the grass saying, " I'm here now I think I'll stay for a bit".  Ha, she'd slipped on her bum and couldn't be bothered to get up!  Anyway we reached the bottom and hit the dry stone wall, which was our indicaion to turn left and head for Scales Farm, where the car was parked.  We met a couple of hikers heading in from the Blenacathra Centre towards Scales so let them past. 

After a few hundred metres we we joined a 'queue' at Scaley Beck.  Now for all you people thinking of completeing this route, you have to bear this little hazzard in mind  There's a cheeky little slab of very slippery rock to negotiate before the crossing of the beck (left).  It is very wet and even though not very high, it could give you a few bruises if you slip off it.  I got myself down and waited at the bottom for miss potty mouth to slivver her way down.  We  eventually reached the bottom and spent another couple of minutes trying to catch the water fall in its essence.  We got to the car and headed off to the Royal Oak in Braithwaite for a well deserved pint and pork scratching, which Kel felt the need to burp back at me.  Cracking day with cracking weather, I want to to do Sharp Edge in the snow, any offers?!