Nov 25/26 - Unable to make Recce No.1 due to the memorial service of my cousin, Maxine, Nick kindly volunteered to accompany me on an additional foray north despite his battering the weekend previously. In his words: "[the weather] couldn't get any worse, so why the hell not." Oh how wrong he was.
Reminded that life is too short, we decided to throw caution to the wind, ignore the severe weather warnings and camp. A shocker of a delay on the forever chocker M6 saw us park up at Threlkeld at 2am on the Friday night and pitch tent an hour later up the trail towards Great Calva.
Rising at 9am to a sensational and surprisingly clear view of the Lakes from our perch on the flank of Blencathra we headed north up between Skiddaw and Blencathra to join the BG trail on the west side of Great Calva.
Were it not for an unfortunate slip on the river crossing between Great Calva and Blencathra, after finding our way cross country down the eastern side of the former, Nick's boots would have remained dry as the weather continued to hold.
Having found a good line up the back of Blencathra, we discovered why the summits were cloud free. The wind was really quite remarkable. Mental notes were made to cut across below the scree to the summit in future (shorter + less wind) but the views were too good not to take the slightly longer route and follow the path up the crest and traverse the ridge to the summit.
Given the 23 hour BG time schedule allocates 30 minutes for the descent of Hall's fell from the summit of Blencathra, we reckon this section may require some practice. Full-on scrambling, akin to Crib Goch in places, significantly slowed pace and neither of us were happy with the thought of such an undertaking at night and possibly in wet conditions.
Also in need of re-reccying is the slog from the foot of Blencathra across the valley and up Clough Head. We took a route through the golf course which worked marvellously until a thick band of trees and then a high wall highlighted the error of our route choice and helped incur significant delay.
From the top of Clough Head though the Helvellyn range can be rapidly rattled off, subject to howling winds, horizontal hail and sub-zero temperatures. Struggling to stand, we called it a day at 5pm having knocked off Great Dodd, Watson Dodd and Stybarrow Dodd. Unfortunately, however, flat land either side of Stick Pass is not at a premium.
Soaked through and suffering from the cold we had no option but to pitch the tent quickly and warm up. Fortunately my sleeping mat has a certain amount of grip, enough anyway to combat the angle of our perch. Nick, however, spent the night in the bottom corner of the tent. He loved it I assure you.
With the dawn we donned our wet gear and warmed down by climbing up to regain the ridge line and traipse over Raise and Whiteside. From this final peak we descended to the valley, hitched back to Threlkeld and journeyed home to the overtures of Man Utd v Chelsea. Maxine would have been proud.
Christmas is always a difficult time of year for the professional athlete. Temptation is a terrible thing and greed is a bastard. I am pleased to report that none of our team succumbed to the perils of profligate behaviour though. Booze may have been in abundance (photo 1 - left) but its effects were well harnessed (photo 2 - below).
Cometh the New Year, cometh the man. I bet Steve has never swum in the 2 foot deep waters of the Welsh wonderlands, ventured up and out into the driving hail on the Welsh hills like Williams for run after run, braced 80mph gusts on the Lakeland fells for "feet time"like Ian or battled the gales in Fort William to reach the Co-Op for more mince pies, like Caspar. In Caspar's defence the weather north of the border was so bad that the Scot's cancelled Hogmonay in Edinburgh. By his own admission though, that may have simply been because they were tight.
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