 |
| RAINBOW OVER DERWENTWATER |
 |
| CLAIMING THE SHELTER ON A MISTY HELVELLYN SUMMIT |
 |
| HAY STACKS FROM SEAT |
 |
| A VERY DETERMINED 75 YEAR OLD ON HAY STACKS |
 |
| WILD-CAMPING BY GRISEDALE TARN |
Those Lake District
maps I purchased at the NEC Outdoor Show are now looking distinctly tatty
following some heavy use. From 21-29 April I climbed 39 Lake District mountains
over 2,000 feet (including Scafell Pike, Helvellyn, Skiddaw, Great Gable,
Pillar and Blencathra) and 7 significant lesser fells (which included Catbells
and Hay Stacks, the latter being the site of Wainwright’s final resting place).
I met a group of
four friendly postmen at the fog-bound summit of Helvellyn. They handed me a
Union Jack and proceed to photograph me as I victoriously claimed the storm
shelter. Does this mean I can now live there? If so, were they there to deliver
my very first letter?
Most nights were
spent sleeping in the back of the car, inconspicuously tucked away at the back
of various car parks or down country lanes. Other nights were spent snuggled up
in my nice new Mountain Hardware Lamina 20 sleeping bag and my even nicer new
Hilleberg Unna tent next to Grisedale and Styhead tarns. Bliss. The Aarn
Natural Balance bodypack that I acquired to carry all this stuff proved itself
well up to the job, except that the slotted adjusters on the sternum straps had
an irritating habit of partially unclipping themselves from the shoulder strap
webbing from time-to-time. I will need to devise a fix for this. However, I
came to the conclusion that if I can haul 18kg up the highest mountains in
England then I should manage be carry this weight along my planned JOGLE route.
I was particularly
impressed with a 75-year-old gentleman I met on the slopes of Hay Stacks.
Although a bit wobbly, he was determined to climb this particular fell. He was
wearing a helmet, and explained that this was necessary as he occasionally fell
over and hit his head. No kidding. This chap has got to be given full marks
for sheer dogged perseverance.
Sadly my trip was
curtailed two days early when news of my Dad’s death reached me. He had been
ill for a while with bladder and prostate cancer, but the speed with which he
deteriorated during my absence surprised me. At 81, he lived to be a good age,
but the family will miss him, Mum more that anyone. It does add greater meaning
to my trek, but I am sure that he will keep an eye on my well-being while I am
walking.
