There was some apprehension as we headed up the A1 on Friday night. Reports that gale-force winds had closed the A66 to high vehicles, and rumour that worse was to come, meant that most of us were guarded about our plans. What were we going to be able to do?
The poor weather forecast was added by an additional bad omen - we arrived late, to find ourselves locked out of the youth hostel. Luckily, the warden was around to let in the (very apologetic) advance party, who then had to wait until almost 1am to admit the minibus group.
Reluctantly awakening after a short sleep, we breakfasted and began discussing objectives for the day. With a smaller group than usual, this should have been quickly sorted, but no - Parkinson's Law says that faffing extends to fill the available time. Accordingly, once we were thrown out, our plan materialised. Polly was to take a group around the Coledale Horseshoe, taking in Grisedale Pike; Austin agreed to do Hall's Fell on Blencathra; my group were to climb Blencathra by Sharp Edge, wind permitting.
Polly drove our group - Chris, Thomas, Kate and myself - to Threlkeld, and we walked through farmland by the river to reach Scales, where the Ascent Proper begins. The path rises gently around the hillside, steadily gaining height with little effort. Reaching the head of Mousethwaite Comb, we got a taste of the wild country behind Blencathra, as the roads and fields disappeared from view. Sitting by Scales Tarn for lunch, we looked up at Sharp Edge, and the antlike figures moving along it. The weather was dry, and on this side of the mountain it was quite sheltered, so there was no question about doing it. We were soon on the ridge, where the rock was cold and hard in our grasping hands. All too soon though, it was over and we found ourselves on the summit plateau.
There's no shelter to be had at the top, so we barely paused at the summit, looking down at Austin's route, before continuing along the ridge. We chose to descend Gategill Fell, rather than our original idea of Blease Fell, as the former looked more interesting, and in no time we were back at our starting point in Threlkeld. There was plenty of daylight left, so we nipped in to the village pub for a quick pint before walking back to Keswick along the old railway.
After this quick pint, and a second (and, it has to be said, a fair number of slower ones), it was dark enough that walking back was an unattractive proposition, so we phoned the hostel and suggested that the others might like to join us. Join us they did, but not to drink! Polly and Austin came and dragged us back to the hostel before disappearing into some Keswick alehouse. Gratefulness towards them came to me in the morning, though! How ill would I have been if we'd stayed all night?
Sunday morning was as disorganised as Saturday; perhaps the hangovers were a problem? The view from the hostel window was unpromising: the previous day's fine weather and light wind had completely gone, being replaced with strong wind and steady rain. The river was hammering past, and the park opposite was beginning to flood.
In the light of these conditions, sights were lowered. I proposed High Rigg (a blatant bag, I know) and was joined by Austin, Kate and Marcella. Chris took the lead of the keener people, trying their luck on Clough Head, while Polly's group did a low-level route finishing in the Keswick tea shops. Pat stayed in the hostel, suffering from the flu. Better luck next time, Pat!
Even though the pinnacle of our walk was only 350m or so, it proved a demanding day out, being continuously buffeted by the wind, and having to negotiate various puddles (easier for those of us with good boots). An advantage of being on the lower fells was that it gave us views of the waterfalls spilling down the surrounding hillsides - including Sandbed Gill, which is a scramble for a better day.
Finishing near Castlerigg, we felt obliged to visit the stone circle (Austin and I had been there before, but only in the dark, walking back from the 10th Anniversary Dinner in April). Entertainment was provided by the river running along the road - the day's rain had certainly been persistent. Later we heard from the minibus group (in Wetherby, as we both stopped there for food) that Keswick had suffered lots of flooding. Certainly not a trip to be remember for the sunshine, though I think everyone who went walking enjoyed it regardless.
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