Lest We Forget: Remembrance 2013

A frosty start from Honister

The crowds coiled their way around the slopes of Green Gable like a rainbow-coloured ribbon and the snow-capped peaks sparkled in the sunshine like polished icing. It was a perfect day to be heading to Great Gable for Remembrance Sunday and as ever, the crowds were out in force.

Great Gable was gifted to the National Trust by the Fell and Rock Climbing Club. In 1924, a bronze memorial was placed on the summit cairn to remember those members of the Club who died in the First World War. Each year on Remembrance Sunday, hundreds of people head to the summit, where a short service is held to remember all those who have given so much for our freedom. 

A colourful ribbon of people

On Remembrance Sunday it is all about the occasion and the atmosphere rather than the views but the long-distance views towards Buttermere, Crummock Water, Ennerdale, Blencathra and the Langdale Pikes were spectacular and certainly added to the atmosphere. 

I was walking to the summit with a few friends, Ray, Andy, Stuart, Jimmy and Cindy and we chose the route up via Green Gable from Honister. I have been on the summit of Great Gable many times but each time I have been unfortunate with the clouds and not seen the views. Today looked like I was finally going to see what I had been missing. 

Buttermere Valley & a cloud banner

We kept a steady pace as we skirted the slopes of Brandreth and towards Green Gable. I kept stopping to take photos as the views that started to open up were sublime. The warm reds and golds of autumn were spreading across the mountain slopes in a striking contrast to the blue sky and the snowy peaks. Buttermere Valley had a cloud all the way across it as though the peaks of High Stile and Grasmoor were holding a banner of cotton wool.

Great Gable in the cloud with a queue of people

Scrambling over rocks and boulders, we reached the summit of Green Gable and saw several other routes converging from the Brandreth, Aaron Slack and Moses Trod paths. From above we must have looked like ants heading to an anthill. Sadly at this point, the cloud came in and it looked as though Great Gable would cling onto its cloud factory once more.

The last section of path to the summit of Great Gable is a rocky scramble and with so many people heading the same way it becomes a bottle neck and you actually queue to get there. I think this must be the only occasion that queuing to get on a mountain not just happens but is totally accepted as part of the experience. It really is part of the experience though and there is always a sense of a shared aim.

Colourful crowds

This year, with the ice and snow, the scramble was tricky in places and the going was slow and often not elegant but before long we were arriving at the summit along with those who had made the ascent from Styhead and Wasdale. With multi-coloured hats and jackets, it was a colourful place to be and there must have been several hundred people there. At this point, arriving rather out of breath from a swift ascent from Honister, our friend Phil joined us.

We will never forget

With the cloud enclosing us, a few words were spoken by a member of the Fell and Rock Climbing Club and then the two minute silence was held. It was thought-provoking and memorable, with only the occasional dog barking. At the end of the silence the crowd applauded and it sounded like deep rolling thunder rumbling up the valley as there were so many people. It was simply awe-inspiring.

Views at last!

The sun was trying desperately to burn through the clouds so as the crowds dispersed we decided to wait on the summit for a while to see if the views appeared. We were not disappointed. The clouds slowly cleared towards Wastwater and the Wasdale fells of Kirk Fell, Pillar and Yewbarrow. The deep blue of Wastwater in the emerald green valley was beautiful. The Scafells and Langdale Pikes slowly emerged from the grey and finally I saw what I had been missing for so long. Great Gable has some of the most stunning views I have ever seen, especially at this time of year.

Wasdale

We headed off the summit, which was much quieter by then and down the tricky slope. I donned my micro-spikes for the occasion and got to the bottom unscathed. We returned via Green Gable again and back to Honister. A really lovely walk with spectacular views but more importantly a superb and poignant occasion. 

At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.

See more photos here

Read about Remembrance 2012 here

Blue Skies Over Yewbarrow

Yewbarrow

Bell Rib on Yewbarrow

Since I first climbed Yewbarrow in January 2011, I have claimed it to be my favourite mountain.  However, until October 2012 I had not climbed it again.  I have admired it wistfully in the distance as I climbed fells surrounding it and walked and driven passed it on the way to and from Wasdale Head but never ventured near the summit again.  Climbing Yewbarrow in 2011 was perfect in every way – it was a lovely sunny day with blue skies as far as the eye could see, the scramble of the ascent and descent and the long ridge route across the top, combined with making a momentous decision on the summit means it has been unbeatable.  My first ascent is captured in my book “From High Heels to High Hills”.  If I am honest, I suppose I was a little worried that having such a perfect memory of Yewbarrow, I would be disappointed a second time.  Surely it could not be as amazing as I remembered?  

When I arrived in Wasdale one weekend morning in October, my intention was to walk around Wastwater.  I love the scree path and for a low level walk it is quite challenging in places.  It was a beautiful sunny day and as I drove towards the lake with the screes crashing forbiddingly into the water I caught my first sight of Yewbarrow towards the end of the valley bathed in rich autumnal colours.  It had that “come and climb” me look about it and won me over.  Yewbarrow it was to be!

Great Door & the view to Wastwater

The first part of the ascent is straightforward on a grassy incline.  Each step you take you are rewarded by ever better views of Wastwater and the surrounding fells.  In the glorious sunshine that day, the lake twinkled and sparkled but the low autumn sun meant the screes were cast in dark shadows, making them even more forbidding.  Contrasts like that are one of the things I love about the Lake District.

Looking back along the ridge to Wastwater

From the top of the grassy slope, the climb changes completely.  From here, the ascent is on rocks and shattered scree with a few scrambles.  Then you have a choice to make.  A tricky rocky ascent in a gully to the right that takes you to the far end of the ridge or an easier path that brings you up further along it.  There is a story behind my first ascent at this point (I will not spoil the book though) but I decided to take the more tricky route anyway as I remembered the glorious ridge along the top to the summit.  It was a steep scramble to the ridge and a matter of careful planning in places and then there I was – on the main ridge at Great Door with views to the Scafells, Great Gable, Wastwater and the screes.  This is why I love this mountain.  Simply breathtaking and all amongst a sea of blue sky.

The Scafells from the summit

The ridge route over the top of Yewbarrow is about a mile, with the summit being about two-thirds of the way along it.  It is a joyful walk with such views to be had.  From the summit the wonderful views of Red Pike, Haycock, Pillar and Kirk Fell start to open up.  Even though it was October it was really warm and a lunch stop overlooking England’s highest mountain and deepest lake was something special.  The Scafells looked spectacular with white whispy clouds above and dark shadows cast over Mickledore.  A lot has changed in my life since I last sat on the summit of Yewbarrow and I could see exactly why this place had inspired me to chase my dream.

Crab claw on Stirrup Crag

I decided to descend via the Dore Head Screes but only if I could find the path (another story from the book) and to tackle Stirrup Crag.  This is a crag that you can avoid by taking a cut-off to the left but having done it before, I was confident I could manage it.  It is tricky in places, particularly going down rather than up though and at one point I had to stretch as far as my legs could to get to the next ledge, always conscious of the rocks below!  I have tackled Striding Edge, Sharp Edge and Jack’s Rake but this was a reminder never to underestimate any craggy descent.  It was more difficult than I had remembered.  

I got to the bottom unscathed (if a little muddier than at the top) and searched for the path next to the Dore Head screes to descend to the valley.  It begins with just a few indistinct pigeon holes and then turns into a more recognisable path (although it is starting to turn into a bit of a scree itself).  From the path you can see back to Stirrup Crag and an odd rocky outcrop that looks like a crab claw.  I am sure it has a more technical name though!

Great Gable amongst autumn colours & a sea of blue

The path was steep but with close views of Pillar and Kirk Fell and a patchwork of stone walls and fields in the valley to occupy my mind, it was not long before I was strolling along the valley floor in search of the Wasdale Head pub.  The clouds were creating shadows and patterns on the fells and Great Gable stood proudly at the top of the valley still bathed in blue skies.

Scafells over Wastwater

A beer in the warm sunshine by the river was a well-deserved respite and walking back between the foot of Yewbarrow and the shores of Wastwater with the sun making it sparkle was a perfect way to end a perfect walk.  I need not have worried at all about Yewbarrow living up to my memories.  It is simply wonderful and remains my favourite fell.  

More photos from this walk are available on my Facebook page.

Wastwater Screes

Piers Gill & An Orange Shovel

Wastwater (from a previous visit)

I have seen the dark craggy ravine of Piers Gill several times whilst on other walks or out with the Fix the Fells volunteers in the Lakes.  From the summit of the Styhead Pass you can see it in the distance and it looks forbidding but fascinating.  I still spend as much time as I can out on the fells as part of my Fix the Fells role so a drain run up that route from Wasdale seemed a perfect opportunity to have a closer look.  A drain run is a maintenance task to clear the path drains of any stones and debris to ensure the water is channelled away and also clear any loose stones from areas of stone-pitching.  I have done these a few times before (see “GirlFrom the South Heads North Episode 2”).  

I was with the Western Lakes National Trust team and we met at the Wasdale Campsite at 8am on a beautiful sunny day where I was promptly handed my shovel with an orange handle and my working gloves, also orange.  How very co-ordinated (although I have not yet succeeded in my mission to find a pink shovel!)  As I put on my ski jacket (it was a cold day) and backpack, I got the impression I was possibly the only person in the history of Fix the Fells that had turned up to clear drains and paths in a bright white jacket (although they were lucky I did not add my bright pink salapets to the outfit – it wasn’t quite that cold).  But, everyone is used to me now so apart from requesting sunglasses to hide the dazzle, we picked up our shovels (which had not got any lighter since the last time I carried one) and set off.

Great Gable & Kirk Fell

Regular readers of my blog will not need me to say that this drain run was a little slower with me in tow and “Tanya stops” were frequent.  But on such a glorious day, it was a perfect opportunity to admire the views.  It was quite a long walk to the first drain and we split into two groups to cover two paths.  I set off with Steve and here started my battle with the question “What is the best way to carry a shovel up a mountain?”  Now I will be honest and say that until recently, this is not a question I ever thought I would need an answer to or indeed one that I would ask.  However, I spent the first mile of the walk with the shovel in one hand being held near the metal bit then in another by the handle.  Next I tried holding it out in front and then over each shoulder but it was always in the way and heavy (and the latter option just made me want to break into a chorus of “Hi Ho!”)

Piers Gill

My mind was soon distracted by the sight of Piers Gill however.  Where it ends and the gill starts to wash over the boulders and rocks it looks like many other rocky gills.  However, as you start to look up it, you can see dark cliffs and narrow crevices that look menacing.  The further up the path you get the deeper, darker but more mesmerising the gill becomes.  Your eyes are drawn to it all the time.  It is like something out of a Stephen King novel.

One of the drains - note the co-ordinated shovel & gloves

I was soon brought back to reality though and got my shovel to work clearing a very gravelly drain.  When the water starts running through it and away from the path, you get a real sense of achievement.  Steve did about three drains to my one but I am still learning the art.  We stopped for a coffee and admired the views to Great Gable and Kirk Fell.  Although the sun was shining, Great Gable seemed always to hold cloud on its summit like a cloud factory was at work churning out big white fluffy clouds that were then taken on beyond the valley.  The red screes of Hell Gill on its slopes looked uninviting but striking.

Cloud factory on Great Gable

Waterfall at the top of Piers Gill

Onwards we went and after a short steep scramble (here I confess I did not have my shovel) reached the deepest and most vertical-sided part of Piers Gill.  I was brave enough to lean over (whilst kneeling) to take a photo but you really cannot get the real feel for how magnificent if daunting it is from the photos.  People have on occasions had serious accidents and even died in the ravine thinking it is a path.  It is no place for walkers – there is no path and it is dangerous.

On reaching the top of Piers Gill (and being given my shovel back to clear more drains) we headed down to meet Iain and Barry and help finish that section of path.  Lunch was below the summit of Lingmell with Scafell Pike behind and Great Gable in front.  Having kept my jacket clean all day whilst clearing muddy drains, I promptly spilt coffee on it.  A handy tarn cleaned it up quite well though.  

Pulpit Rock & Scafell Crags

We headed to Lingmell Col and Mickleden so I could see the work planned for that area, which is understandably one of the busiest as people try and reach the summit of the highest mountain in England.  The Three Peak Challenge (where people climb Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon) has increased this traffic.  

On the route we headed to the foot of the Pulpit Rock and Scafell Crags, which are both vertical rugged cliff faces with areas of shattered scree.  To the right was the start of the Lord’s Rake ascent to Scafell.  This is a route I really want to try, although it looks pretty challenging!  After clearing another drain or two, we headed back down (shovel on the left, on the right, swinging – honestly how should I carry it?).  On the lower slopes, the path crosses a large gill (and given the recent rain it was pretty wide and fast-flowing) where only boulders stand between you and being carried down the river.  Steve and Iain hopped across nimbly and then pretended to be inspecting a piece of path so as not to put me off my crossing.  Not so the group of five guys on the bank behind who I knew would be watching my crossing attempt.  The reason I knew is because I would have been watching too if I was sitting there!

Lingmell Gill

I cautiously made my way to the middle of the gill but then there was a really long step to the next rock.  I looked around in earnest for an alternative but did not find one.  It had to be this rock. It looked slippery.  I felt the eyes of the people behind still on me and looked down the river to where I would end up if I did indeed fall in.  It could be anywhere – depends what rock I got wedged behind.  Then I found a use for my shovel that meant I cared no longer how heavy it was.  I stuck it firmly between smaller rocks under the water and leaned on it to get across the big step.  Hurrah!  Success!

Looking down to Wastwater

It was a great day.  Hard work but a great team and I will always love going out on the fells to help fix them.  I just need someone to invent a lightweight shovel (with a pink handle please!)