Forty-four years on....

As Engelbert Humperdinck crooned 'Please release me', my mom was probably screaming "please get out of me!"  Yep, 2 days into spring 1967 at a hospital in Sheffield, a poor working class woman gave birth to the last of four children (not all at once).  I say 'poor' in the monetary sense, not because she was having me, although I think out of the four, I was the biggest hand full.
So that's me for the next 21 years, growing up on a council estate with a cracking view of Bramall Lane and holidays under canvass in Wales and the Norfolk Broads.  Not too bright and didn't really enjoy school, so with that in mind I decided to stop going at 15 years old.  Apart from the odd Biology class, for which I achieved my one and only O Level.

However, come the official last day of school I went and said farewell to all the people and teachers I didn't like and the next day I popped on my best StayPress trousers, best 3 buttoned jacket with black and red stripes (swish) and headed off down town to set my stall out.  I must have been in every shop, garage and pub in and around the town centre for a month with only an offer to do door to door sales on commission to show for my effort.  Then, after visiting the job centre twice a day I was offered a Youth Training Scheme at Yorkshire Water  and snapped their hand off.  That was me for the first year slogging my guts out for £25  a week.  Which after paying my mom £12.50 board and buying a brand new Vespa on tick for a tenner a week, I had £2.50 left to buy fuel.  But I did whatever I could to get extra money, guvvy jobs and various other things kept my head above water until they offered me a full time job a year later and I was on a wacking £60 a week, the world was my oyster.  However, back breaking stuff was this work.  No JCB's but dig dig dig to get those much needed new water mains in the road.  I did actually fall asleep in my soup at teatime a good few times and saw the old boys with bad backs and knackered hands, still digging at 55 years old, it wasn't a good advertisement for later life.  I also was falling in with a bad bunch, we had a scooter club which was a good laugh, but one by one, my mates started to go on holidays at her majesty's pleasure and I didn't really want to join them.  On a sunny Saturday afternoon I was at a open day at one of the parks in Rotherham, I wandered past the Army careers tent and was jumped upon by a Staff Sergeant from Royal Engineers.  Don't ask me how or why, and with no thought ever before of joining up, I signed on the dotted line. I went for my tests and interview at the main careers office and after being told I was not allowed to go  into the Infantry (too bright, ha me?) and being slightly colour blind I wasn't the best helicopter technician in the making, I joined the Royal Engineers and before I knew it (March 1989) I was on a train to Surrey for 6 months of pure hell.  Gibraltar Barracks will stick in my mind for ever.  Torn knee ligaments, two half decent kickings by the instructors and no sleep made me think every night, as I slept in a sleeping bag as not to crease my ironed bed, what the bloody hell had I let myself in for.  Anyway I passed basic training and headed to my unit in North London.  I did well and was promoted after 18 months after coming top of my cadre course.  Plus running and Orienteering for unit and army I had made a good name for myself.  But in January 1991 I broke the news to my family I was going to Iraq.  Six months in the desert and a bout of dysentery I came back to 12 years of travelling the world and meeting different people.  I decided to sign off in 2002 and settle in the North East.  Tried another stint at the local water board but after two years realised why I'd left YWA in the first place.  I then had a weird thought about joining the police, so I did!  Never thought I'd get in due to my lack of qualifications but they welcomed me with open arms, I think my forces background helped.  The basic training was mentally exhausting, I was up against college grads who knew all the buzz words and how to impress the top brass.  However, coming from a working class back ground I knew how to speak to people, especially the ones you come across in this line of work, which I think amused the instructors in the endless role plays you grind through during the course of the 10 weeks.  So I took up my office on the East coast of Durham and have never looked back.  I have a beautiful girlfriend and a wonderful 5 year son, who both keep me on my toes.

Due to shift work we (Kelly & I) make most of the time we have together, walking and climbing, visiting the lakes and the local area.  Kelly has started taking photo's and to be honest they're very very good.  I see my son Oliver when shifts allow but he seems to have taken a liking to the indoor climbing wall and unlike me, has no fear.  We are still continuing with our quest of completing the Lakeland Wainwrights and are hacking away at them slowly but surly.  Check out Kelly's website and keep an eye on Twitter for our tweets blogs etc.

High Force waterfall

In the quest to get some good piccys in the portfolio, last week Kelly and me jumped in the Aygo and headed off towards the biggest waterfall in Durham (I think), High Force.  About 12 miles outside Barnard Castle which itself is a lovely place.  Always thought I'd love to be the Beat Bobby there a few years before I retire but hey ho, that's a long way away.
 Landed in the car park, £1.50 to park and £2 each to get to the falls.  But we saw the pub called High Force Hotel and thought we'd have lunch first.  Went into the pub and it didn't flick our switch to be honest.  For a start, Kelly, she loves her grub but is quite fussy about what she eats.  Nothing caught her eye on the menu so that's a non starter as far as food goes, so we had a quick Coke and buggered off to have a look at the falls.  It did look a nice cosy pub and a good one in the winter after a walk, but not that day. 

We gave our tickets to the woman in the wooden hut and headed off down the track heading for the falls.  The track was a bit dark which I think pee'd Kelly off as there were some cheeky shots to be had, but the light was not playing.  Anyway we reached the bottom and was greeted by a shed load of people.  The falls were quite impressive and the noise of the water was deafening, I didn't realise it was so big (ooo err).  But we had dropped into the river basin and the light had got worse.  I'd brought the tripod for some cheeky slow shutter stuff but Kelly told me to keep it in my bag for another day.  The base of the falls is littered with small boulder's which Kelly tried to negotiate with her high heeled DocMartin boots but had to squeeze my hand till it went blue to get across.  So with a slightly numb hand we reached the river and she found her shot (above).  But even I thought the light was failing, and as it is quite close to our house we decided we'd come back another day , maybe late spring.  So I helped Bambi on Ice back to Terra Firma and we headed off back to the car.  We hoyed our butties down our necks and set off home, via Woodham to see Bruce the enormous German Shepherd a hug and go home for drinkies and takeaway. 

I like water falls and i was impressed by the drop and the actual volume of water being cascaded off the top.  I've always liked water and the effect it has on us and the environment, in fact i should've joined the Navy instead of the Army and set to sea.  As you can see it's a great place but like everything in our beautiful country, the weather takes the micky and you have to be at the right place, right time.  For those who care, on route to the the falls there are a couple of info boards explaining the rock formation, which is interesting to Laymen, as well as someone in the know.  I love that part of Co. Durham and it's thanks to Kelly i have privilege to see it.

Haweswater and High Street

Sunday before last we decided to have a look at Haweswater and weather permitting go up High Street.  Kelly, Alison and me threw our walking kit in the boot and headed off.  We drove down the edge of Haweswater and parked at the very end, at the foot of Mardale.  It was quite busy even though the weather looked slightly dodgy.  Didn't realise Haweswater was made after the old village, Mardale Green was flooded to create a reservoir, apparently the buildings were demolished by The Royal Engineers and the church was dismantled brick by brick and the bricks were used to build the pier at the side of the water.  So in 1935 it was created and has grown into the picturesque water that can be seen today.

So we walked over the inlet stream coming down from Small Tarn (pictured above) and hit the footpath for a couple of hundred metres along the side of Haweswater.  Alison set the pace and even though it was overcast, the heat was quite unbearable and it wasn't long before a vent stop was needed.  We took a sharp left and had a steep climb onto Rough Crag and set off for High Street along some pretty rough terrain.  It wasn't the steepest of climbs but definitely got your lungs working and thighs burning.  I enjoy a good scramble and like to get hands on the rock.  It wasn't as severe as Striding Edge but could get a bit arse twitchy if the weather turned.  Before long we had Blea Water (right) in sight and a cracking bit of low cloud to welcome our first sight of the top of High Street.  The route was littered with walkers and I had to chuckle to myself as the ones ahead, trundled off into the low cloud and out of sight, it made me think how committed hikers are at 'bagging' peaks.  After a few ups and downs we reached the last climb to the summit.  We decided to stop for a bite to eat and a quick rethink about the outer layer.  We sat down and started to eat, I wasn't exhausted by any stretch of the imagination but was glad of the rest and the refuel.  No sooner had I taken a bite out of my ham buttie when a figure appeared behind us, who appeared to be travelling quite fast.  Within seconds this figure got closer and we had in our sights the first Fell runner of the day, running up the Crag faster than I run on flat ground.  He thundered past and headed off into the low cloud.  They amaze me, I couldn't begin to get that fit again, I did spend the mid 90's heading off to south Wales with my mates and running up and down Pen Y Fan and sleeping under my Jeep after downing copious amounts of Guiness at the end.  I was very fit then, but now have a dodgy right knee for my trouble.

Anyway, Alison had finished her sandwich and wanted to crack on.  Even though she and Kelly are sisters, when it comes to food, you do not rush Kelly.  She has every meal and snack planned out well in advance in her head, and if you try and scupper those plans, or even interupt her eating, you run the risk of been thrown off the mountain.  Eventually we packed away our kit and started the accent to the top of High Street.  Amazingly the cloud lifted as we etched our way to the top.  The route was now quite a decent scramble and Long Stile certainly was a very satsifying and the sight of the top was well received.  The cloud was still quite low, about head height which was quite spooky.



The summit was very flat and quite a size.  There were people milling about at the top, some had come up the Roman Road from the south west and some from the route we intended to take down.  we had a surprisingle good view all around the top and the surrounding fells.  The cloud was still very low but kept off us.  Time was pressing on so we headed south towards Mardale Ill Bell, I really detest the decent, it puts pressure on my knee which I do not enjoy.  But the craic was good, kelly was still having a go at Alison (in good humour) about being rushed to finish her bait and now, as we made our way down towards the dip between Harter Fell.  The summit of High Street was clearing up and the blue sky was peering through.  The views of Blea Tarn were looking quite good, but Kelly wanted the shots from the top, and as we were a considerable way down, she blamed Alison for rushing our break.  If we'd stayed at he foot of Long Stile and Kelly had finished her sandwiches, we'd have been at the top and Kelly would have got her much sort after piccys. 

We took a left down Nan Bield Pass and headed towards Small (water) Tarn. This route is littered with waterfalls and is quite a pleasent decent. The view of Haweswater is stunning and the surrounding peaks. Kelly was dotting about with the camera, trying her hardest to get some good shots, but still having the time to have a (light hearted) pop at Alison about her short lived bait stop and the cloud cover. On route down there are cheeky little shelters made from slate, have no idea what they're or was used for but they are standing the test of time.  The entire route I was eager to see the Golden Eagle which apparently has made it's home in and around Haweswater.  I never knew we had any of these magnificent birds of prey in England, the bird is a male and lost his partner about 9 years ago and hasn't left the water since.  The RSPB have a view point on Riggindale but we didn't get chance to have a look.  (Blea Tarn on left from summit of High Street)

We made our way down and took in the sights of Small Water Beck and the numerous waterfalls.  One of the better decents we've done and not too much pressure on the old war wound.  The cloud had cleared almost completely and the view of Rough Rigg was stunning from the bottom.  The tempreture rose again and we were back in short sleeves and looking forward to the bottom.  A view between the bases of Harter Fell and Branstree was spotted by Kelly who took advantage of the stunning blue sky and a small puffy white cloud perched in between.  With sight of the carpark we sped up slightly and headed towards the car.

At the bottom we took our boots off and jumped in the car.  I'd spotted the 'Le Mardale' hotel on route to the car park and we decided we'd have a pint there to chat about the day.  Nice little bar there and a beer garden with a cracking view (left).  The conversation reverted back to the bait incident and Kelly had 2 bags of crisps on the go.  We all definately enjoyed the day and Alison had managed to get rid of the hangover she's aquirred trying to keep up with Kelly on the Pinot the night before, another thing you don't mess with Kelly about.  Two pints went down a treat and we drove back to the caravan to meet Stuart (Alison's Hubby)  and Bruce the German Shepherd.  For the views it was really nice, but I bet it could be quite naughty in the winter.  Two more Wainwright's in the bag!!

Appleby Agricultural Show.

Last weekend Kelly and me decided to have a well deserved weekend at sister Alison and brother in laws static caravan at a site near Penrith.   It's a gorgeous place ideally placed with a great view of the Pennines and the lakes.  It's a lovely site which doesn't allow anyone but the owners and close family to visit, which is ideal so it's quiet and everyones friendly.
On the Saturday we decided to have a run out to the Appleby Agricultural show as Kelly had never been to one before.  I love these places, a great atmosphere with loads of animals ranging from cattle to horses and dogs.  Also a tent with poultry and wildfowl that was slightly noisy but the range of birds there was remarkable.  We spent a lot of time in the poultry tent cos we both love chickens and want to keep them when we relocate.  Anyway Kelly got her camera out and started shooting straight away.  The cows were obviously the pride and joy of many of the farmers with a variety of breeds and functions.  Kelly especially liked these as she once owned a cow when she was younger and she spent about an hour looking at them. 
Also on show were a selection of tractors and old motor vehicles which people obviously took great care and time to restore.  It amazes me how much patience some people have in the restoration business, the smallest detail is researched and painstakingly brought back to life after sometimes, many years of neglect. 
The highlight of my day was lunch, Kelly went for the option of ham and Cheese toastie which was quite nice apparently, which for the fussiest eater in the world was quite a compliment.  I however took a chance and paid best part of 3 quid for a bog standard chip buttie with a splash of gravy, for which i had to explain what a splash of gravy was and why i wanted gravy on my chip buttie.  The lady who served me said, "It'll make your bread go soggy" to which i explained that's why i want just a splash, not soaking.  Still got stung for the full price of the gravy even though i got 1/5 of the amount, robbing gits.  Anyway the chips were the ones you get that have a skin, but no fluffy potato inner.  I was gutted, but still ate it, once a Squaddie, always a Squaddie! 
So, full of grease and bread i wandered off to explore the rest of the show.  My favourite was the dog show, i love all animals but dogs are one of my favourites.  Love the game/gun dogs and always pester Kelly for a Springer  Spaniel or a Border terrier but she's having none of it.  There was a cross between a Chiwawa and a Jack Russell which although about 8 inch tall wanted to fight all the other entrants.  A cross Poodle and Golden Retriever got best in show which was nice, but there was a black Springer Spaniel that was equally deserving but didn't get near.
Anyway we left both wanting to attend another show, both enjoying it apart from the 7 quid each to get in, and 6 quid for lunch.  But hey I'm a tight Yorkshire git and like my food.

So we left happy and headed off back towards Appleby village centre which i thought looked a lot like Barnard Castle, very picturesque and touristy.  But i was really shocked, i always here and watch stories about Appleby horse fair which has a bit of bad press, but the town centre is very nice and has a very nice riverside and buildings.   Had to drive to Penrith for supplies (vodka and wine)  and dropped back to reality with Morrison's supermarket and tracky bottoms tucked in socks, if  you know what i mean. 

 So we headed back and met Alison at the caravan and headed off the Pooley Bridge for a pint and some food.  I would recommend Pooley Bridge Inn for food but they don't let dogs in which is a bit of a downer, especially in the lakes where a lot of people take their dogs.  But hey ho we had a great time and i think Kelly wants to go to more shows. 

Riots

This wont be a long blog as I've only been working and not doing much else.  However i do feel i need to say something about the riots.  I can remember the riots in the 80's, i was a lot younger then but still couldn't understand why they did it then.  I wasn't an angel but i was respectful, if a cop looked at me I looked down and felt small, very very small.  My respect was down to my parents, both very much working class, dad was in the steel industry and mom was a dinner lady, so not much money coming in but they did their best and had to save for birthdays and Xmas.  I respected this and respected them. The early 80's was quite a tough time and jobs weren't easy to come by.  I left school in 1983 with one O level and even then wish I'd done better.  I had no money and no transport, i ironed a shirt and trousers and put on my best togs and walked into town.  I went to ever single shop, stall and business and asked if they had jobs going.  I must have done this for weeks, going into the job centre every hour to see if anything had come in.  I did not blame anyone or anything for my struggle to get work.  I felt ashamed that i didn't have a job and it was only the first 2 weeks of leaving school.  I was friends with a few lads who were in the same boat but decided to turn to criminal means to find money.  I will admit, i did a few things myself but the guilt was unbearable so decided i need a job.  After numerous interviews i finally go a YTS position in the water board, i was delighted.  At this time, one of my friends went to prison for burglary and for some reason i felt a massive weight off my shoulders.  He was away from me and i could crack on with life, I've never seen him since.  His parents were uncaring and unemployed.  He had no role models or reason to work as his parents took everything from the state and his dad was a criminal so he thought it was OK to be the same. 
I looked at him and saw the 'people' i see on TV now rioting in the country.  It's not because they are hard done by or stop searched to many times, it's because they are lazy ignorant and don't want to work as they can earn enough from the state. 
I was having a coffee with my future mom in law about the miners strike, i had left school and the water board i worked for had to close as the union had come out in support for the miners.  One day i went to Orgreave and watched the miners fighting with the police, i felt so embarrassed to be working class when i saw the miners rolling telegraph poles set alight at the cops at the bottom of the coking plant hill.  The cops just stepped over it and stood straight and proud.  The miners were drunk and smoking and i looked and thought no pride, no allegiance and no connection to these people.  If they had any pride they would have done what i did and looked for work, it was this occasion i realised i was working class, but not a socialist. 
My dad was a labour supporter but wasn't a socialist, he just believed it was right to vote labour as he worked in the steel industry.  But he was never a socialist, his views were very British.  He was pro Jewish (which is probs where i get it from) but believed a man had a right to work, but didn't think it was a god given right. Basically you had to find your work, not be given work.  My mom was the same and on numerous occasions said to me "get out there and find it, no ones gonna give a job to someone who's not bothered".
I see Tweets about the riots stating the 'kids' have a point and there's nothing been done for them, so they have a point!?!?  No they don't, they are molly coddled by a country who don't wanna offend them.
The riots in he 80's had no point as far as I'm concerned, neither do these riots.  But what do i know being 'working' class, not sponging looting class!!

This is the post i thought i'd lost :-)

Couldn't believe it spent the whole week trying to sleep off nights in the heat of a fairly good spell weather wise,woke up Saturday morning and shock horror, chucking it down with rain. Typical, my first of two rest days and it's raining. To make matters worse Oliver stayed over and was looking forward to going to the beach but ended up spending the morning in the house. Which wasn't to bad because at least we were together.
His reading is really good and I can't believe he just sits and reads paragraph after paragraph and is also trying to pronounce the names of Dinosaurs.
Kelly was at work but had the next day off so Saturday was fairly uneventful but at least Kelly was off Sunday so fingers crossed for good weather.
Sunday morning, rain! Chilled all morning but then decided to go to the indoor climbing wall at Newton Aycliffe. We've been going there for quite sometime now and it's a good work out. We're not Adam Ondra by any stretch of the imagination and for a start I'm scared of heights which limits me some what,but we have a laugh and a good couple of hours trying to beat each other on different routes or problems on the Bouldering walls.
I used to climb when I was in the army but it was limited as I was away a lot and didn't get chance to carry it on. Also I was once at the climbing wall in Edinburgh and had got to the top of a particularly trick route and was having a well deserved rest whilst my belayer had me locked off safely. I was preparing to be lowered down when I heard a 'whoosh' of fast moving rope and a sudden scream of pain from across the hall. I looked across and saw a bloke lying almost motionless on the deck and his belayer screaming looking at his hands. My buddy let me down a little bit too quick for my liking but once I'd untied myself we rushed over to the pair now both in obvious pain. Ambulance arrives and they're both taken away. My SSM went with the pair (don't know why) and tells us all later in the day of what had happened. Both the lads were accomplished climbers and had come to the wall for the day to train. The one who was climbing had reached the top and the belayer was preparing to lower his mate. However, the belayer had a moments lapse of concentration and in that moment, his mate slipped, plunging about 50 feet to the floor, and the wrenching 'pop' we heard when he hit the ground was his pelvis snapping in half. The belayer tried to grab the rope but the speed of the fall caused the rope to rip through his hands causing horrific friction burns to both hands. That incident slightly un nerved me to say the least.
Anyway, we have good days at the wall and normally go home knackered ready for a drink or two. Kelly is the better of us as she doesn't have as much weight to lift as me ( that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it). We both prefer out door climbing but unfortunately we are at mercy of the weather and can't always get there.
Kelly has informed me this blog is a bit dull as I haven't uploaded any pics yet, unfortunately I don't know how to so she'll have to try when she gets in from work. Bye for now

At last our car is at the dealers.......

After picking up a courtesy car on Friday as mine was 3 weeks late, ours has arrived and the dealer is very apologetic and we get mats as an extra :-).
Anyway i took the weekend off and on Saturday we went out with the new camera to Durham city and Haswell.  First Haswell, it's a small(ish) village not far from the A19 and about 20 minutes from Durham.  It was a thriving pit village but has changed a lot. 

The Haswell Colliery was sunk in 1835, and sent the first coals to Sunderland by rail in 1837. The seams  worked were the Five Quarter, at a depth of 558 feet; Main Coal, 663 feet; Low Main, 812 feet; and the Hutton, at a depth of 1931 feet. During the last few years, from twelve to fifteen hundred persons had been employed daily at the colliery, and nearly 400,000 tons of coal were raised annually. The colliery was held on lease by the Haswell, Shotton, and Easington Coal and Coke Company Limited, who possessed the coal royalties from the colliery to the sea, including the adjoining under sea coal.

One of the most fatal explosions on record in the north of England occurred in the "Little Pit" in this colliery, on the afternoon of Saturday, September 28, 1844, when no fewer than ninety five lives were lost, either by the explosion itself or by the after damp.

The pit closed 31 Dec 1896 as it was deemed 'unprofitable'.

My mother in law shows me pictures of the village up until as recent as the 70's.  Th village has changed so much and looks totally different.  She and Kelly tell me stories of when the Church Brigade was a major part of the village life, parades and annual camps in the lakes with local companies competing against each other in various sports and activities.  Now the camps are fewer than a hand full of people which is sad, as an outsider the commitment is still inspiring but maybe will finish in ten years.
I'm from Sheffield, mining was a major part of life but generally steel was the main employer.  There was Orgreave mine and coking plant which saw major trouble in the strikes in the 80's. I can remember going to Orgreave and watching the fights between the striking miners and the police, miners rolling fuel soaked telegraph poles set alight at the police and the cops actually diving over them and then standing in rank once back on their feet.
Remember being in the local pub and blokes coming in with what we called 'Pit eye liner', this is the residue of coal on the eye lids which didn't always come off with normal washing, i think most blokes were proud to sport it to show a honorable profession.  Wonder how that honour feels now after 30 November 1984 and the death of the taxi driver??!!
Anyway, i do seem to go off on a tangent but Kelly did get some good pics which she wishes to be kept unpublished until ready to show.
We had a walk up the side of the Wear in the heart of Durham, not many people out on boats etc but still a nice day.  First time i'd been to the cathederal and what wonderful place.  A massive structure which is still in good nick(ish).  Apparently it costs £60,000 a week to maintain but i reckon worth every penny as it is still a good attraction and there were lots of tourists there.  I did get to see the Haswell Miners Banner which is proudly displaid and heard so much of it from my mother in law who is passionate about her history and her village.