The Yomp

On Sunday, I took part in the YOMP. Last year I completed the 23 mile course in 5 hours 47mins, mainly walking and the odd bit off running (in heavy walking boots). I did however receive the 'Hellgill cup' a few months later in the post for the fastest 16 and under male in the full Yomp. This year I had the intention to mainly run it.

I arrived quite late and registered. I was stopped on my way out by women from mountain rescue telling me that they're would temperatures on the summits of -5 with gusts as well so I needed a following list of items which I hadn't brought. One of the other people from Kirby Stephen Mountain Rescue took me across the road to their base where they happily leant me a waterproof jacket and a 'Lowe Alpine' Bum bag. I was treated particularly nice seen as I had been so stupid to come so un prepared.

I set off not long after. I ran the first half relatively well, mainly walking on the steepest parts as 'tactics', so I didn't exhaust myself for later. After running down Wild Boar fell and checking in at the half way point I had clocked a time of 1 hour 55 mins, not a bad time really, considering it was the steepest part of the course. After that though I was lacking energy. Running on any ascent at all seemed to be pretty difficult and even the flats were getting harder. I hadn't had very much for breakfast, only a cereal bar, mainly relying on the fact I had stuffed myself on Pasta the night before. However I soon needed more energy and my hands were so numb, if I touched one, I couldn't tell if it were my hand or my fleece without looking. This made it very hard to open up my Bum bag and get out the 'fun' sized mars bars I had picked up from the refreshments after registration. Luckily they're were plenty of Marshals about and one very kindly took of her wooly mitts and got them out for me. When I saw them I remembered reading the book 'Feet in the Clouds' by Richard Askwith, where he was handed to 'fun sized' Mars bars by his friend after a long run over the Lakeland fells, with the comment "They would be a lot more fun if they were twice big." At the point I read that I remember thinking "Why bring them instead of a full sized one?" Yet here I was opening two 'fun sized' Mars bars half way up a hill in the cold. The temperature seemed to be more like 5 degrees C with a wind chill of about 3 below. Which probably makes sense seen as it was about 9 degrees C in the valleys.

By about 3 quarters of the way through the course, I was reduced to no more than a walk and a little trot down the hills. Even walking up the steep bits was tiring enough and Running on the flats was exhausting. By the time I got to Nine Standards and the guy said the rest is downhill I suddenly heard myself go 'Yey!' I was soon annoyed at myself for sounding so incredibly wimpish. The Down hill bit was much harder than I'd have thought. Pains in my stomach had me walking quite often. Luckily they're was one last check point where I could take a swig of water and that seemed to help the pains a bit, so I could at least run with it. It was about 40 minutes before i had made it to Kirby Stephen. And a further 8 minutes before I was back at the School. With an over all course time of 4 hours 52 minutes.

So I had a time I was relatively happy with and in theory the fastest 16 and under. However when I asked the organisers said they couldn't present me with the Hellgill cup, as they are not supposed to encourage competitive running over that distance anymore. However they might quietly send it me in the post like last year.

Thanks for reading,

Ethan

Finally...... My First Trad Climb.

This Tuesday I met up with Adam, we were planning to get the train from Appleby down to the Dales the next day and do some sport climbs. But as Adam was staying at my house the night before to get a good start in morning. I was keen, while adam was here, to head up one of the routes at Jackdaw Scar, and do my first ever lead of a trad route. In traditional climbing the climber has to jam bits of gear into cracks in the rock to attach the rope to as he/she goes up the rock face. This requires above anything a sound mind. It isn't like sport climbing where bolts have already been drilled firmly into the rock ready to clip straight into. When you're climbing a trad route you as the climber have to look out for yourself constantly. A badly placed bit of gear could rip straight out of the rock in the event of a fall, potentially leaving you to fall to your death. 

A photo taking from google images a hex placed in a crack

I chose a fantastic looking route called 'Kirsten Wall'. It is graded as a 'Hard Severe' this is arguably quite a hard grade to lead my first ever trad climb on, I had top roped it once in the past placing gear as I went up, but I remember having to hang on the rope at points whilst I fiddled around getting gear in the rock. However since then I had practiced my gear placement quite a bit and I was now putting it to the test. But this time if I got tired I wouldn't be able to hang on the rope as it wouldn't be attached at the top. I would have to down climb and rest on a bit of gear that might not even hold.
For some reason though I didn't think about this outcome to much. I knew if it came down to it I could get out that kind of situation, but for now needed to stay positive.  

          I started up it relatively easily. I was feeling very ready. I had been waiting for this moment for quite a while and it was finally happening. After placing a nut, I climbed up the first section onto the sandstone ledge. Above me stood 12 metres of Limestone. It had numerous cracks in it. I still wasn't sure whether I would get up it. I remembered the mess I made of it on a top rope only a month or two ago. I soon blocked the thought out, if I wanted to get up it I needed to be as calm as possible. I knew that I could climb the route. I just needed to make quick, reliable gear placements and most importantly stay cool and keep a clear mind. I jammed a hex in the crack, I was confident in the placement and I knew that if I did fall on to the sandstone ledge at least I wouldn't topple further of that and fall a further 4 metres onto the hard nettle filled ground below me.
          It wasn't long before I had placed another two bits of gear and was already getting a decent way up the route. I was finding plenty of resting spots. I was certainly nervous, but at the same time very calm. I was soon half way up. I was in a good position and soon the excitement of completing my first trad climb was beginning to kick in, this reduced the nerves even more. I felt a strong connection with the rock all of a sudden. I had never felt this before. This is something that certainly indoor climbing and even sports climbing has never given me. I thought of all the trad climbers I had read about. Chris Bonington, Don Whillans, Dave Mcleod and so on. I though of a time when all the gear, clipped on my harness ready to use, simply didn't exist. When chock stones would carefully be jammed into rocks, and of the climbers who would steel 'genuine' nuts from train tracks to use as gear at the crag. I suddenly felt part of not only a tradition but a culture. I continued on. I was approaching the last few moves. I placed a hex in the rock, it seemed a descent placement, not great but the best I could, I climbed on and got to another good resting place, I was trying to slot a nut in a horizontal crack, but I couldn't quite see it. It wouldn't go in and my left arm that had been holding on to the hold above me was beginning to fill with lactic acid. I still didn't panic. I simply just switched hands, shook my arm a bit and when I had gained back some strength in it, I continued to try and get the nut in. Suddenly it just went straight in. I gave it a good tug to see if it would stay, and it did. I only had one more move to the top. I just went for it. On top of the crag was a big tree with a huge root growing directly above the route. My hand touched it. I had done it!
Adam walked up round the back of the crag and gave me the belay device. I attached the sling to the tree at the top and abseiled down the route taking the gear out the rock on my way down. The abseil in itself was thoroughly enjoyable. I had just done my first ever trad climb. Not a complex route, but an important one for me. One I will always remember. 

I have recently done a whole load of other things that I haven't had time to write about............

• Ran a kendal 10k race a few weeks back
• Couple of runs up Murton Pike
• Run up Langdale Pikes at Langdale charity Folk Festival
• Saw a Chris Bonington Lecture at Keswick Mountain Festival
• Joined Howgill Harriers running club
• Practiced placing gear around Jackdaw Scar
• Numerous time spent on boats in rivers and lake in the hot weather
• Sport Climb in the Dales with Adam the following day

Thanks for reading,

Ethan

"Hills", "Fells", "Mountains" and Blog Addresses

You may have noticed for a short time I had changed my blog URL to 'ethans exploits' rather than 'fell feet'. I was a bit worried about calling my Blog URL 'fellfeet' as I thought it was becoming irrelevant, as I wanted to write about my climbing and running just as much. I was also concerned that when I go climbing and mountaineering in other countries, the term 'fell' is a typically English term for hill. In fact it is a bit of a strange term isn't it?
            Many English outdoorsy types would call smaller hills a 'hill' and larger hills a 'fell'. Then you get people who say that hills in Britain are to small to be called a 'mountain' even though there is not a specific height where a 'hill' becomes a 'mountain'. On the total opposite end of the spectrum you get people who would give all 'mountains' the term 'hill' even Everest.
           For a time I wondered what to call the hills in Britain. Speaking to some people I would sometimes feel I was over exaggerating if I called a British hill a 'mountain'. Yet on the other hand the experiences I have had, in the hills of Britain (mostly in England), have never seemed small or insignificant. I think there becomes a point when a British hillwalker or runner starts to lose interest in the height of the hill they stand on. I know I am not as fussed anymore. When I stand on the summit of a mountain in the Lake District, I don't think "Well how high's this one then". I don't get the map out just to see what the altitude is. I look at the views and I see the distant peaks. I name the fells I know and love and get pleasure in knowing that there are still plenty, sitting above or below where I am standing, that I do not know and have yet to summit. And sometimes  I'm overwhelmed simply by the silence. Where else in this country can you hear absolutely nothing at all other than the sound of the wind and your own breath? It makes me feel like an accomplished human being. No matter what height the summit is I stand on I know that there are plenty of people my age and older, sitting at ground level in a sofa playing on a games console or watching TV.  I think that is the pleasure of the British hills. Yes, it's true, by international standards our mountains are nowhere near the biggest. I look at some mountains in parts of the world, like ones in the Himalayas and the Alps and they scream the word "challenge" at me even just by looking at the photographs. Perhaps, to the eyes of a sherpa or an alpine guide, a Lake District fell shows little challenge. Our typical mountain is round and covered in grass and bracken, while their mountains are pointy and covered in ice, snow and rock. But there is certainly at lot of challenge to be had in the hills of Britain, it sometimes just has to be discovered. The challenge can be just as big to one person, who is walking up one hill on a clear day, to someone else who is running over many tops in a complete whiteout. And even if sometimes a small walk in the hills doesn't seem particularly energetic, is it ever without adventure?
        There is something for everyone in the hills of Britain. And I call them "fells". This isn't because I think they are too small to be called a "mountain" or because they're too big to be called a "hill", it's because they are unique and they deserve their own name. So I decided there is no reason at all not to call my blog address 'fell feet'. And if I am in a different country and if the question somehow pops up "why did you call your blog 'fellfeet'?" Then I shall say "because that is what the mountains in England are called and they're where I found my feet for adventure."

Thanks for reading,
Ethan

P.S it did also occur to me that when 'Ethan's Exploits' is written as one "ethansexploits" it could well be interpreted as 'Ethan Sexploits". I looked the term 'sexploit' up in a dictionary and here is what I found...........

Sexploitation
noun informalthe commercial exploitation of sex, sexual attractiveness, or sexually explicit material.

Arguably the wrong word to use in the address of a blog about outdoor activities?

Climbing at Coudy Rock - Appleby

The sky was one of mixed messages. Every so often we would feel the sun beam down on our face, we would look up and find an amazing blue sky directly above us. Instantly I would find myself envisaging a great day out at the crag. But it wasn't long before I caught sight of a nasty looking cloud gracefully drifting over towards, like a lioness sneaking up on an gazelle. Perhaps this wasn't the best day to go out, on what was after all a sandstone crag. It would be dirty enough as it was, even if it did remain dry. However we were only going to Appleby so it wasn't going to matter too much if it did start chucking it down. I had heard a lot about Coudy rock, a crag just by the river eden with various sports routes bolted up it, and I was quite excited about the thought of finally going to it.

Sports climbing is a relatively modern style of climbing, where bolts are already drilled into the rock, ready for the climber to attach the rope to via quickdraws. It is becoming increasingly popular in the UK and is considered the main style of climbing in many areas of europe. Climbers don't need to worry the same about the safety of the route as they would in trad climbing, where climbers place the protection themselves by jamming gear into the rocks. In sports climbing, climbers can concentrate on the technicality of the climb, without concern for how well protected they are.

We arrived at about 11:30. I uncoiled the rope and lay it out on the ground in front of what appeared to be an easy route. I was going first and I seemed quite calm about the whole thing. The route can't have been more than 7 metres high and looked like it had many nice big jugs to hold onto. I tied in, stuck my ipod on and headed straight up. It would seem I didn't even take into account that it was sandstone and it was covered in dirt and lacked many jugs, in fact most the holds seemed to be slopers and to make things worse small overhangs (although not having to much effect on the difficulty of the climb) obstructed my view of the holds above and it wasn't long before I was heading back down to take my ipod off and start treating the climb more seriously. After about 10 minutes battling with the route, I finally made it to the top. I descended quickly and we soon move on to the next route along, this time Adam climbed. We continued to work our way left along the crag, until we finally got onto the main wall. Here the climbing suddenly got interesting. The main challenge was in the actual route, instead of it being in the dirt layering the rock or grabbing a handhold that wouldn't brake away. These routes had been climbed a few time and chalk marks were all over it from where other climbers had been.

The day continued in this fashion, we lounged around on the grass looking at the river, in between climbs and then would head up the odd route. The rain didn't come and the sun would occasionally come out from the clouds and warm up our backs. Dad came along later with the camera and took some photos. I thought about teaching him how to belay on a top rope, but then remembered that he goes loose at the knees when people are in high up places, and thought it was best to teach him another day. After all I thought he was doing well taking photos without panicking about how strong the rope was or any of the other things that could possibly happen.

Thanks for reading.

Climbing with a Cold

I was running fast, as I veered away from my house and set of down the track, but not quite fast enough. I finally got onto the road and continued to run, it was suddenly starting to feel much harder. I had only just begun the run. A mere 2 miles of running on the flats and then downhill had slowed my pace dramatically. As ventured along the road and into the village, it almost felt like I was running up a long, steep hill. I was trying to think of any other reason why I was feeling like this. "Perhaps I had started to fast" or "Perhaps I didn't drink enough before setting off?". But it was no use searching for any other answers. I knew why and I would have to except. I had yet another cold, despite having only recently recovered from my 4th cold of the winter. I had been trying to tell myself it had just been a sore throat or something. I had just had a great few weeks of running after school. Runs ranging from 2-13 miles and on all of them I had been pleased with my performance beating my regular 1 hour run by a further 2 mins.
Now I would have to rest and hope I would be fit again in a few days. I ran back up to my house at what felt like a snail's speed.

Jackdaw Scar

                I decided that if I couldn't run I would climb. After all that is what I really love doing, but I just don't get the opportunity as much. There is a lot to be said for leaving your house and running out through the fields as the sun sets on the distant fells, but for me nothing quite competes with climbing, when it comes to focusing on the task ahead and keeping a clear head. The nearest crag is 'Jackdaw Scar' I have been there a few times, hoping to find some boulder problems to create. But the Sandstone base of the crag doesn't provide anything of particular interest when it comes to bouldering and I find myself often gazing up at the higher limestone in frustration and going away with an even stronger burning desire to get hold of some nuts, cams, hexes and slings and start trad climbing. However this time I managed to do bits of climbing on the crag. The routes didn't offer very much in terms of training, but offered me a lot mentally. A chance to unwind after school, listen to the running water from the beck and breathe the fresh air. They weren't particularly technical but required that focus and state of mind needed in climbing.  So after feeling low for failing in my run, I had found my high for the day at Jackdaw scar, a perfect place to spend the evening, and feel closer to nature despite being no more than 60 metres away from civilisation.

My next bit of adventure was at Hutton Roof with Adam. Hutton Roof is a limestone crag not too far from Kendal and offers some great boulder problems. It has quite a few trad routes up it too, but it's only about 8 metres high so many of these can be climbed un roped with a crash mat underneath you. The crux of the climb was almost always in the first 4 or 5 metres and after that the angle relents to about 75 degrees with large handholds. My cold was now beginning to affect my general energy levels and I often found myself lying down in the shade after each climb and would leave Adam to wonder round trying out other problems for a while before I picked up the enthusiasm to join him again.

I spent the next few evenings after that climbing around Jackdaw Scar again. Then at the weekend joined Adam at Kendal Wall. We spent quite a decent amount of time bouldering before tying into the ropes and doing a few routes.

The day after I met up with Fergus and we went for a short stroll around the back of Dufton Pike up to Great Rundale Tarn, before strolling back down to the pub in Dufton for a coke. It is a bit odd that I should have had a cold this week. As even today which was supposed to be one of the worst this week, it hadn't rained for over a week and the sun was still shining brightly.

Today I did a bit of bouldering at Kendal Wall, as it it was now the official first day of my Easter Holiday. I could perhaps have gone for a run when I got back as I wasn't feeling as bad, but I was pretty tired from the 2 hours of climbing I had just done. Tomorrow though I will don my trainers and head out, I'll see what I can do, it might just be that my performance is fine and I can keep running for a good few miles up onto Orton Scar or I may have to make do with a lesser run until my Cold leaves me completely.

Thanks for reading.
Comments as always, are very welcome.

Ethan

A week in the life of Ethan

I have realised I haven't really been posting regularly and I think it is because I haven't really viewed anything I do in my normal week to significant but I suppose it might be of interest to a few people........

I'll start with last Saturday........

I went to Kendal wall at my usual time of 3:30pm. I get the bus from Orton and get a fantastic view of the Howgills, from the high road up to Kendal. I arrived and had a bit of a boulder before meeting up with Adam (climbing partner). We went into the main hall to do some routes. I was very pleased to have lead a 6b+, although I had to hang on the rope 2 holds below the top for a minute (to try and get rid of the lactic acid eating at my arms), before completing the final move to the top. Feeling good after this, I thought I would attempt to lead a 6c+. I struggled to even start this and after falling of on a sloper before getting to the 4th quickdraw, decided it was better to spend my time on a different route, so I did a quick 5+, just to avoid a mental block about climbing that line, before moving on to the huge over hanging 6b. I got a bit of the way up but after a few falls decided to come down. It was very nearly time to go and my arms were almost dead, I had decided it was one for next week.

I was pleased to be picked up of the bus in a 4litre Jaguar, that Mike and Val who were staying for the weekend owned. I think my blog entries need a picture in them to make them more exciting so here's a pair of cool (but rather random) pictures Mike took on Sunday of me losing in a race to the other side of the river against Val (I thought my route would be quicker but it turns out legs are faster than arms).

 On Monday I went for my usual run up to the road on Orton Scar, after school. Although it's only 7mile it is a great bit of training as it involves a lot of uphill in it. 

By the way this entry will only involve the active things I do in my week, otherwise there would be a lot of 'what I watched on telly tonight' kind of thing and 'What I had for lunch today'.

On Tuesday (After school) I went for a run to Jack Daw scar in Kings Meaburn and back. I took a new route through fields on a badly marked public footpath, which involved me getting lost and wading across the river once or twice and at one point trying to run out of a farm yard I'd ended up in accidentally. Luckily the farmer didn't spot me and mistake me for a thief, fleeing off into the distance. 

I finally ended up at Jack Daw Scar, after sticking to the river like glue for 3 miles. I decided to run back on the road as it would have been stupid to head back the same way. I arrived home with wet trainers and socks, but I had, had quite a nice little adventure for an after school run; wading across rivers and worrying about being shot by angry farmers all added to the excitement of taking a new route without a map. Jack Daw Scar is actually a nice little cliff with quite a few good routes up it, ranging from I think Severe to around E3, I would be very keen to go climbing on it in the summer, if I had the equipment.

On Wednesday at school (and you won't often here me talk about school on this blog) I was given a little note from a teacher that one of her neighbours had written to me. This wasn't just any neighbour however, it was Leo Houlding one of the best Rock Climbers in the country and possibly the world. When I got home my 60m Edelrid Python climbing rope I had ordered arrived in the post, this would give me the length to climb on the main wall and the King Kong wall at the climbing wall. I then went to Kendal wall and did a bit of bouldering up in the Green Room and Marmot Loft.

On Thursday I did nothing of note (Lets call it a rest day).

On Friday I went for a short run (short because I forgot my head torch and had to come back early).

And today (Saturday) I finally got the chance to go to Kendal wall and use my new rope on the higher walls, only to find that there was a competition thing on that took up most of the main wall and the higher walls. So we just did some bouldering instead.

That's quite a typical week for me really (apart from Leo Houlding writing a note to me). So you now know that I am doing something when I haven't written for a while, just all of little value in terms of writing.

Comments are welcome as always. You might have also notice the new look my blog has got. The main thing to notice is the box just below the navigation bar at the top of the page, where you can enter your email address and receive my new blog entries by email then if you want something else to notice there is a little survey box you can add an answer to. It is just a way for me to know a bit more about the people who read my blog (if there are any?). Also I have been told by my Mum to make it clear that the way to leave a comment is to click the button at the bottom of the entry that says "comment". I thought this was quite self explanatory but my Mum clearly thinks differently.

Thanks for reading,

Ethan

High Street with Rex

Haven't written in a while but have suddenly done a lot because of my half term holiday. I spent all of last week (Monday-Friday) at Glenmore Lodge on a Winter Skills course where despite there being little amounts of snow I learned a lot and had a great time. However I won't write about it, as it was more of a skills course and the photos weren't too great as it was often misty. What I do want to write though is about a little trip out I had with Rex.

Sunday morning was extremely clear and the wind was rather tame, so I decided to go for a little run with Rex. I had been thinking of running on the Lakeland fells for a while now and had decided for some time that High Street would be the main objective of my next exploit. I always wonder about long runs across the fells and about the endurance required. My regular run is usually a 7 mile run crammed in after school on Tuesday's and Friday's, I don't have much opportunity to run any other week nights and the darkness puts me off going much further. About a third of time I run I am running up hill, but it is still a relatively friendly ascent when looked at from a 'fell running' point of view. But even the best struggle to run up the steepest of slopes in the middle of a long distance run. But it is hard to find a happy median. Even when you have the energy to run up steep ground, is it economical to do so if you have a full days running ahead of you?

The last time I saw Haweswater it was on a small walk along the road in the rain with my family and the dogs (Zak and Rex). I didn't really appreciate such beauty back then as I was much younger, so was probably more concerned about getting wet and cold. But today I didn't see how anyone could have overlooked it. The weather was fantastic and the views were magnificent.........

I set out with Rex from the car park at the bottom of Haweswater and headed for the ridge up to High Street. The Ridge was long and rather steep and it wasn't long before I was reduced to walking up it. Rex on the other hand managed it well, only walking because of me, and still going for the odd sprint further up the path. I find this rather frustrating as I spend my weeks running and climbing while he lies around half awake waiting for his tea most days! However I think most humans would have struggled to ascend the ridge by anything other than a walk, so I didn't feel to put off while watching Rex pounce about in front of me. After all I was still managing to do a bit of jogging when the slope relented every now and then. It wasn't too long before we reached the summit and we had overtaken all the walkers in our site (I was glad it wasn't the other way around!). Hills such as Cross Fell, Great Dun Fell and Murton Pike dominated the sky line to the North of me sitting smug at the other end of the Eden valley, whilst hills such as Helvellyn and Blencathra stood out to the west along with the rest of the Lake District. And as for where I was standing 'The Roman Road' a track pretty much unnoticeable today which was used centuries ago to travel between the 2 forts of Brocavum near Penrith and Galava in Ambleside. Being a huge plateau the summit was also used to hold summer fairs on in the 18th and 19th century where the locals would gather on the 12th July to watch the horse racing and meet up with old friends, often returning livestock that had strayed away from their shepherd.

After a short break, the run was mostly downhill on to The Knott where I realised that I was limited to taking only 8 photos as I had left my memory card in the other camera at home. However I did get a couple of shots of a contented looking Rex once he put his tongue away and stopped searching for leftovers, that the Ravens flying overhead had clearly beaten him to. It was then on to Rest Dodd, which did actually look a bit of a rest as it was quite a bit lower down than the previous two summits but once getting to the bottom of it I realised I was much too drained from the big slog up High Street to run up it in one burst, so stopped half way up it for a bite to eat and a drink. It wasn't long before I set off down towards angle tarn (not the one near Esk Pike) and back down into Patterdale, where I slipped on a fleece and my walking trousers before the gentle stroll along the pavement to Glenridding where I had a quick look around before sitting outside the Traveller's Rest with Rex, who was having quite a lot of fun hassling people on the way out of the door. And I enjoyed watching him too as at least half the people who walked past him gave him a stroke, many passing comment about what a nice dog I had.

All in all an active Sunday and a nice end to the holiday I had just had.

Comments welcome.



Ethan