Sunday 13th & Monday 14th July 2014
Lake District
Claire had a day booked off work for Monday and the weather forecast wasn't too bad, so we decided to have a couple of days hiking somewhere. We decided to break the tradition and do a wild camp on the hills rather than stay in George, and after what seemed like several hours of research we decided on the Lake District.
We set off at 7am and arrived in Wasdale at about 10.30am to start our walk. Wasdale is in the far west of the Lakes, and is home to Wastwater, Great Gable, Pillar, and the Scafells amongst other things. You can also see the sea and Sellafield nuclear power station from the hills, and something across the water that might be the Isle of Man.
Our route was taken from an old Trail magazine, and took us across the moors to Haycock, and then across to Scoat Fell and Steeple before the last summit of Pillar before camp. The first part was tough going; a combination of on and off rain, boggy rough ground underfoot, and a lot of uphill. By the time we'd made it to the summit of Haycock the rain had stopped and the clouds had lifted - just like the forecast said they would!
We made our way across the tops to Scoat Fell, where we just had to take a slight detour across to the summit of Steeple. I was looking at the map on my phone and talking out loud, wondering which pointy bit was Steeple, when Claire decided to ask a passing couple, one of whom was wearing traditional woollen walking britches, where Steeple was. I was mortified, and did my best to pretend not to be with her, as we must have looked like some of the ill prepared hikers I've slated in previous blogs. We just about managed to redeem ourselves by getting to the summit before them and having a better camping stove to make a drink with when we got there.
Claire had started to complain that her supposedly recovered knee was hurting again, but decided she could make it to the final summit of the day - Pillar. Despite the description on the route card of all sorts of trials and tribulations, the ascent of Pillar was the easiest of the day and I was soon standing on top of the trig point in my usual fashion. The skies were clear with the best views we've ever had in the Lakes, although it was much colder than we'd expected for July.
It took us a while to make our way down to Black Sails Pass, where we planned to spend the night. It was steep, we were tired, and Claire was limping. We got there at about 6pm, found a spot to pitch our tent, and then put all our clothes on and boiled some water for our dehydrated pouch meals, which are actually a lot nicer than they sound. We'd under estimated how cold it would be (because the previous day it was like a sauna), and were squeezed into the tent in our sleeping bags by 8.30pm. There isn't much room in our backpacking tent (one of the drawbacks of lightweight tents) and we had to sleep top to tail. Fortunately Claire's feet were safely enclosed in her sleeping bag so I came to no harm. I started reading my Kindle but soon started nodding off.
I slept fairly well - no worse than I normally sleep in George the first night anyway, and woke up to the alarm clock at 5.30am. The weather forecast was for clear skies early on, with clouds coming in and rain mid morning so I wanted to make the most of it.
Claire's knee was not right, and we'd decided the night before that she wasn't going up Great Gable. Well, I'd decided. She wasn't so bothered about not going up the hill, but the fact that I was going up on my own and "abandoning" her to make her way down to the valley alone. But having spent a cold evening and cramped night on the hillside, and endured the worst porridge I have ever had for breakfast, I didn't want to give up the reason we'd camped in the first place, so decided to endure the inevitable grumpiness and guilt trips that would no doubt follow and go up alone.
It was a beautiful morning at 5.30am, with hardly any clouds, and the sun shining through the pass between Pillar and Kirk Fell. I started off by going up Kirk Fell, which was hard work on my achey legs, but provided some good early views of the surrounding fells and the challenge of Great Gable, which looked no less intimidating than it had done from a distance yesterday. I realised on the way up that I'd left a pork pie, of which half was rightfully mine, back at the tent with Claire. I didn't think there was much chance of my half being saved for me, but spent quite a lot of time thinking about it anyway.
Kirk Fell had served as a good warm up as the climb up Great Gable was much easier than I expected. Sometimes steep ascents where you have to use your hands a bit are easier than the relentless plodding ones. I emerged onto the summit at about 8.15am rather surprised to be there so soon, without any false summits on the way. The clouds were starting to roll in on the surrounding hills, and the Scafells were looking very pretty with a coating of fluffy white clouds round the top. I had the summit to myself for as long as it took to take in the views, take some photos, and eat round one of lunch by the war memorial plaque. Just as I was polishing off my Mr Kipling lemon slice, another lone female hiker arrived at the top. She didn't stay long though, and was on her way down before me.
All the routes down Great Gable were steep, and by the time I'd reached the valley floor my legs were like trembling lead weights. Right on cue, the clouds had crept in and covered the summits, and it had started to spit with rain. I made my way to the Wasdale Head Inn, where we'd arranged to meet. But when I arrived, there was no sign of Claire, and I had no phone signal and hence no way of knowing if she was still on her way down, collapsed in a ditch, or ahead of me and on the way to retrieve the car from the other end of the lake. So I did what any normal person would do and went into the shop to buy an ice cream while I thought about my options. Fortunately, as I was contemplating the ice creams, Claire arrived from collecting the car. As expected, she had gleefully eaten the whole pork pie, and was too full of pie to have a ice cream.
The drive home was uneventful. Claire fell asleep, and I had to stop at Lancaster services as I was struggling to stay awake. Some coffee, crisps and a sort of scotch egg baton helped and we made it home in one go after that.
Aside from the knee pain and grumpiness, and the cramped night, we enjoyed the wild camp and will do it again. We are on the lookout for a better tent though as apart from the size, we weren't confident that ours would have been much good in bad weather. And next time I shall make sure I have my own pie.
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