Failures on Grit

It's hard to write that title out. And I think I'll find it even harder to write this blog post. Right now I would be traveling around the Peak District armed with a couple of bouldering pads and a rucksack full of camping gear. It was going to be my holiday. A holiday I felt I deserved and needed. After a week on the amazing lines of Stanage, Burbage, Froggatt and so on, connecting with the history and culture of the Gritstone climbing scene and most importantly connecting with the rock, perhaps right now as I strolled through the moors of the peak and slept amongst the boulders and caves I would no that true meaning of freedom I have only ever felt glimpses of.

After months on end of that lack in confidence, of seeing my dreams in front of me seeming further and further out of reach, I thought it would be about time that changed and the answer would lie in the Gritstone Edges of the Peak District. The place where I discovered who I was in the middle of a time of loneliness and self-doubt. I needed that place again, perhaps now more than ever. It had done so much for me and I was asking for a whole lot more. I was going to the gritstone to find a motive, some inspiration, some self confidence again, and most of all success. Perhaps that was where I went wrong with it all. Months of trolling through the guidebooks, looking for the right routes and lines. I could see myself on them, and I could feel myself climbing them. I could already feel that connection with the rock just from the photos and I could feel the success of topping out. But thats the only thing, with the goals I have in mind, success is achieved through many more failures, and my problem was I feared failure.

           It came some what of a shock to me when on the morning of leaving for Hathersage, I found a public post on Evan's facebook page, announcing to anyone who stumbled across it how he would be going down to the Peak District for '2 nights'. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding. This couldn't be the case. We had jokingly called it 'Gritfest' through texts and facebook messages. It all seemed amazing; a week (at one point 12 days) of living amongst the grit, climbing and chilling. My head could maybe reach the place I wanted it go, and I could climb to my full potential. All self-doubt and anxiety would be a thing of past in just a weeks time. But reading that facebook status was like having a double decker bus thrown on me from a tall building. I couldn't describe to Evan what this time on the rock meant to me. It didn't to him and that was that. I wanted to plead with him even beg him to stay for longer, but my pride wouldn't allow it. After all it wouldn't have worked anyway. Climbing was climbing to Evan, something that brought adventure, joy, fear. Perhaps that’s the best way to have it, but to me that was just the bit on the surface, and whether it's healthy for it to or not, to me it meant everything. It was where I could learn the true meaning of happiness, achieve total freedom, it was my drug, maybe even my faith, it has become the only thing I think about and the only subject of conversation I can concentrate on and have genuine interest for. All together how much time on the actual rock had I spent? It surely would only amount to a week or two if all the bits in between were taken out. Perhaps that’s why I'd gotten so low this winter. Those precious hours of my life I'd spent on the rock were all I had to cling onto over the season. I was scraping the dregs of the barrel for the left over bits of happy emotions which remained from the autumn.

I needed proof. Proof that the feelings existed and wasn't all made up in my head, proof that I was actually a good climber and had any potential at all. I was willing to put my all into it, all I needed was time. Time I all of a sudden didn't have. I felt anger, rage, and so much sadness. I couldn't believe how selfish Evan was for taking all this away from me, but he wasn't, truth be told all he was doing was going mountain biking at the weekend. It was me who had blown it all out of proportion. I tried to describe what this trip meant to me, but he just said that it shouldn't. Perhaps he was right. Then again whether he was right or wrong it really didn't matter the fact was that it really did mean so much.

We showed up late on in the afternoon at Stanage, to find the place covered in snow. Whole sections of the crag buried, quick easy paths along the bottom of the crag now turned into thigh deep powder. The routes that weren't covered now had water dripping down them. Only a few remained climbable. Evan's morale was almost as low as mine. He didn't see the point in hanging around with all the snow. "Don't get all pessimistic just yet, we haven't seen the crag." I said

But he mimicked me in an exasperated tone and had a go at my optimism. He was in a bad mood because he'd driven down a long way. Was that all that bothered him? He was talking about going back up to the Lakes and doing some stuff in the mountains. It would achieve nothing as far as I was concerned, I would still be walking away with the dreadful self-doubt I came with, but then with a new lack of hope on top of it all. I seemed stupid to him for wanting to stay. I knew then and there he had nothing to prove like I did, being here seemed like all I had left quite frankly, I couldn’t leave. In reality he just wanted to make the most of his time off. To him it was just a case of making the most of the weather conditions. To me it would be admitting defeat and I couldn't cope with that. If he even had the slightest idea of how I was feeling he wouldn't be mocking me for my optimism.

Thankfully one route I wanted to do was dry. Flying Buttress Direct, a fearsome overhang. It looked harder here than it did in the guide. I was a bit concerned as to how I’d do. I just needed to hop on it. If there is one bit I don't like about climbing routes it is the whole, silent anticipation you get before the climb, when the unknown lies ahead, and success is on the other side of a thick brick wall. I would be ok once on the rock. I tied in and set off. I made my way up the unprotected question mark slab placed some gear at the break and went onto the overhang, sticking the heel hook on. I had seen so many photos and videos and read so much literature about the position I was in. It was comfortable and easy. I placed a cam, it looked a bit dodgy, but I went on up before the pump got to be too much. I moved up onto the second step, and then reached for the third. What!? I couldn't reach it. How was this? ‘I’ couldn't reach it? I made two or three lunges, but my arms gave out, I hung onto the cam. 

"I've lost the flash!"

Evan thought this was a stupid thing to say. It was the kind of bollocks you here on ukclimbing.com and that was all. He was wrong, it meant much more. Climbing a route first time, shows you have the skill, the focus, the strength and most of all the ability to get it done then and there. I was upset I didn't have that. 

"I'm F**king useless and pathetic. I'm just s**t!"

I let a glimpse of all the doubt that had been filling my head over the last few months blurt out of my mouth in front of Evan. I felt sorry for him, having to listen to it. It must have been sickening to hear, and most of all made such little sense to him. I had already admitted defeat. Thankfully the joy of being on the route spoke out soon after.

"I tell you what though Evan, it's beautiful!"

I gave it another go, placing my heel on the second step, but pulling up I popped the cam.

"Shit!"

And what a ball ache it was. My next bit of gear was at the break, I was now having to hang off my arms, lowering down to the first step, so Evan could take the rope in to avoid a violent swing onto the question mark slab below. Another attempt after that led to yet another fail, the 4th attempt, led higher up to wet rock, above the worst cam placement I've ever placed. It was the kind of placement you see in the text books as a bad example of a cam placement! I started to freak out a bit, as I tried to get another bit of gear in, on my already pumped arms. I remember wondering if that was it. The climb was well protected, just I hadn't protected it well. Was I going to be another statistic? I decided against the gear placement and realized I'd just have to risk the cam. I lowered onto it with anticipation........ it held. I backed it up while hanging on the rope. I lowered down. I was full of self doubt. After all it was only a HVS and how much of a mini epic had I just had on it. It was now protected to near the top. It seemed ridiculous, if there was an easy way of taking all those bits of gear out the rock and placing them again on the way up I'd have done it, that way I wouldn't feel like such a cheat. I was now going to give it another go. I climbed up onto the second step and reached for the third, I missed it, I was thinking about failing again, I was going to lean back on the rope, when I heard Evan shout. "Go on, try again!" This is exactly why I like climbing with Evan. He drives me on while I'm on the rock. He encourages me, he gives a confidence I often lack and he rates my climbing ability at times I don't. I gave it another lunge, and my hand stuck. I made my way on up. After that I couldn't remember what happened I just remember topping out. I then abseiled down to retrieve the gear. 

Evan got a lead in and his optimism soon rose again. But neither of us were in the mood to find Robin Hoods Cave as planned. We went down to Hathersage and booked into the Youth Hostel for a further 2 nights.

After receiving a tip that Froggat, might be a better bet for less snow, we went down there on the Wednesday. The walk up was nice. It went through trees and bushes and paths with roots cutting across them at unsuspected interludes. It reminded me of the path up to my Grandma's front door. But now it didn't stop and stretched on and on. I let my mind wonder deep into the Past, as I strolled on up the hill, sweating in the morning sun. Froggatt was beautiful. It was an escape from the busy road below. A small crag in comparison to Stanage. It was about quality not quantity. It had lines put up by generations of climbers. From Joe Brown’s Era to Jerry Moffatt’s. We strolled along the crag looking for lines. I found one that crawled up the pinnacle. Ouepidus Direct E4 6a. Well within my technical capabilities, but a huge step into the unknown. The climb consisted of an 8 metre section of unprotected technical climbing until a break, which will take the right cam easily (a cam we didn't have). Once the climber reaches this spot they no longer have the concern of the ankle snapping drop below them. Easier climbing on safer ground leads to the top of the pinnacle. I looked up at it. I had two crash pads laid out below. This would obviously reduce the seriousness of the ascent but to what extent. It would reduce the impact of a fall but would it make it safe. I spent the morning bouldering it up to just above half way, it then started to seem like a long fall to take, so would jump off before it got too much. I was nervous about the climb. It seemed out of my league. Then some other guys came along with an interest in the route too. We put a top rope on it. I fell just above the flake, due to the wrong choice in sequence, but got it after a rest. I never did string all the moves together on the top rope, as they had left before I came back. I didn’t give it a second thought after. It seemed very doable and that was all I needed to know. I went of to do a climb called Bacteria Cafeteria graded E1 5b, an incorrect start, missing out possibly what was the mental crux (I found out later), and a couple of falls due to getting pumped, wondering off route, didn’t give me any of the proof I was looking to get from the week. But there were two gains to be had from it. I had no fear about falling on it. And although I fell twice, the climbing felt really easy, though what route I did I do not know. I had gained confidence on the lead and that was all that mattered. The day was rounded up with a tricky, wet HS led by Evan. We then went to the Little John for tea.

The next day we went to Stanage. It was my last day to prove myself to myself. I’d had no successes over the week and perhaps doubted myself even more now than when I came. I had the wrong attitude. I chose a climb called Black Hawk Bastion E2/3 5c. I spent the morning on it trying to psyche myself up to do the crux move, which would have lead to a nasty fall against the rock. I didn’t commit and bailed out. Looking back on it I don’t know why I did. I could have probably done the move quite easily and the fall although not very nice wouldn’t have been too bad. Perhaps I was looking at the statistics, the failures of my week. The evidence would suggest I wasn’t ready for this climb yet, so I didn't climb it.

It was then off to look at the Right Unconquerable. The first 6 feet buried under snow I was reluctant to climb it as it wasn’t the whole route. I then decided that the first 6 feet probably wasn’t a particularly challenging part anyway and I liked the look of the route. At HVS 5a it would be the easiest climb of the week. It looked so easy. I got on it. I had seen Geoff Birtles climb it on a video. I knew how it should be done and that was how I did it. It flowed so easily, the moves felt so natural and at ease. It was one of those climbs that had the elegance and rhythm of a dance. Before long I was up below the final ‘Belly flop finish’ I started to place my last piece of gear before the top. It took longer than expected. I was trying a few nuts, when I dropped my set. I then got the other set of nuts off my harness and tried to fit one. I got one in, but it was at a weird angle. I was already starting to feel the pump before hand but now it was getting bad. I finally managed to fit a better nut in but I was now ridiculously pumped. Lactic acid was filling up in my arms and I was struggling to stay on. I looked down at Evan who was attentively belaying. I mouthed to him “PUMPED”, as if I didn't want to say it a loud, revealing my weakness to the route. I was trying to shake off. Switching hands, hanging on one while giving the other a rest. It wasn’t working I would just have to go for it. I knew I didn’t have the strength, but all I knew was if I was going to fail on this route I wanted to fall, rather than hang. I moved my hands up onto the top ready to pull up, they slipped off. I couldn’t believe it. This had beaten me too. I ignored the dreaded feeling of failure. It was a beautiful route. I’d climbed with not one thought of fear and all the moves were well within my capabilities. At one time (though very long ago) this climb was one of the hardest around. Attempted by many, it was the legendary Joe Brown who climbed it finally in 1949. Having got up it with no gear in. Perhaps that was my problem, hanging around placing gear. Well it saved me then anyway it was worth it most the time. I waited till the pump went before executing the final top out move with the belly flop. It was a beautiful route and I was glad to have climbed it. I would move here one day. And I’d climb it again and again, it was that beautiful. How could that have been a failure it felt so good. It felt so right. Is it possible to fail on a route you found really easy? It seemed so. I was confident that I could have climbed it again better. If I could just do the Left Unconquerable perhaps I could go home having gained something. But we were out of time, I couldn’t. That was that. We racked up, and walked down off the crag. Evan went home.

With out any further thought I booked another night at the Youth Hostel. I couldn’t leave. I would leave with nothing. But there was nothing to stay for. I had no one to climb with. The next night the hostel would be booked up and I would have to spend the weekend in Robin Hood’s Cave on my own. I’d made my decision to go back tomorrow.

I walked up to Millstone Edge alone. I gazed at some of those classic hard routes, as water pored down them. I looked across the valley as the sun set, just about holding back from tears. The results were in. I had failed. But it was how I chose to cope with it that really mattered. I started to contemplate it. “Failure.” I let thoughts of failure fill my head, I stopped fighting them, I just let them role in from every direction. I started rubbing noses with it, I began accepting it as a friend of mine, I held out my hand with dignity welcoming it further into my life. I would have to get to know it well, so when we cross paths we greet with a smile, and I feel no fear. It can help me if I let it, for it takes me to my other friend every once in a while who perhaps I don’t know quite as well …… “Success”.

Castle Rock

On Friday I went down to Castle Rock with Evan where we did a few climbs. It was a bit chilly today and we wrapped up warm. The first climb of the day was 'via media' graded severe. The first pitch was simple, but it took a while setting up a belay. The second pitch was more complicated, and could have been much more enjoyable were it not for my cold hands. The top gave great views of Skiddaw, with a thin scattering of snow around the summit. We then went down and decided to leave a VS with limited gear placements, as the temperature had seemed to drop even more and my teeth were beginning to chatter. We headed over to Yew Tree Climb a v.diff. I started leading and got up to the yew tree 15 metres up the pitch ready to place my first runner around the tree, only to realise I'd left the slings at the bottom. I therefore had to down climb to collect them, before working my way back up to put the sling round the tree, before doing a long run out all the way to the the top. While setting up a belay at the top a  few snow flakes were carried through the wind, and not long after that the temperature rose again. We then did the last climb of the day. A severe+ on a slab called 'Slab Route'. I was now warm and this was by far the most enjoyable climb of the day. Easy but technical climbing all the way to the last 3 metres where the wall goes vertical and a few bold moves lead to the top.

All in all a magnificent day unfortunately with no photos though.

Ethan

What I've been up to recently.......

Have been up to various bits and bobs recently. The weather has been fairly restrictive in terms of getting outside climbing but I have been doing quite a bit at Kendal wall. Have also been doing a bit of running. I also took part in slightly different activity to usual with Calum and Fergus, camping in the forest (the natural way, despite the saucepan pasta). I have the odd photo below if you're interested.
Have also got hold of a second hand bouldering mat for when the weather picks up a bit. Headed down to Coudy Rocks in Appleby on Tuesday, but the boggy ground meant my shoes were too slippy on the rock to do anything other than easy grades, with large foot holds. Still at least I completed one boulder problem even though it was rather easy 'In the Corner' V2, I filmed it though so put it up.

An evening run across the pennines.

This is one of the joys of living in Cumbria. A 10 minute drive/40 minute cycle and I am at the foot of the North Pennines. Certainly one of the countries most spectacular and quite probably most underated mountain ranges.

Joely (my sister) had a friend over called Hannah. Hannah goes to the same uni as Joely in London but is from Norway. I took them up Scafell Pike. It was my 5th time as the highest person in the country but there first.

The mighty buttress of Sca Fell Englands 2nd highest peak taken from Scafell Pike

Preparing tea

We all decided that we would try and 'live off the land' for a night. You can tell by the photo that we weren't quite successful, as I'm pictured next to Fergus cooking pasta but it was over a camp fire though (however that was lit using a fire lighter and some dry kindling from back home)! But it was hard enough keeping it going in these camp conditions. Me and Calum finished our shelter after tea (pictured below). They were surprisingly water tight. We were quite envious of fergus at first as he had a very comfy bed of moss, while we had only fern. But I was secretly rather amused to find that our simple bed of firn had dried out by the fire, while Fergus' moss held its and then soak his sleeping bag when he lay on it! Thanks for a great night guys and the photos Calum (better late than never!).

The completed shelters

Sorry I had to remove the video to stop it messing up the page!

The rain had finally stopped, so I went to Coudy Rock in Appleby to try and use my bouldering mat, before it came back again. The rock was dry, but the ground certainly wasn't. This meant my shoes weren't dry enough to do anything too technical and grippy. But I did manage to do 'In the corner' a nice little V2 with usable foot holds. Only slipped once! 

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

Exploring the North Pennines

Last week I decided not head up to Cross Fell because of bad weather, I was a bit annoyed that I didn't go on but knew that I would get little pleasure out of it on my own on a day like that. Fergus joined me for Murton Pike but went back after that, as the fog was low and he couldn't stay the night anyway. I did a  loop around High Cup Nick with minimum visibility. So I was keen to get on up to Cross Fell this weekend, this time in the company of Fergus and Rex.

  

This week I planned to go around High Cup Nick and onto Great Dun Fell and Cross Fell. We set of from the farm in Murton at about 10:10am. This time rather than walk around the edges we walked through the valley. Rex was over joyed to be out and about in a new place and expressed his excitement by running around and demonstrating his remarkable athletic ability, which always makes me feel slow and lazy and generally seems to put most human bodies shame. I was keen to have a nosey around a bit more and possibly climb a gully or two. I saw one and it looked fantastic. It had a huge boulder that had fallen and jammed itself between the two walls. I asked Fergus if he could hold Rex while I went up. The rock of High Cup Nick is very Brittle so it's important to take care when selecting hand holds. After a few minutes of simple scrambling I was on the top. I walked to the edge and looked over the cliff to see Fergus and Rex waiting patiently and looking quite small. I shouted hello to them both before making my way back down.

We then worked our way along the bottom of the cliffs until we came to the rock fall at the end of the valley, where we went up the large gully onto the top. We then walked along the western side of the cliff tops until we came to the drystone wall which leads all the way to the bottom of Dufton Pike. We hand railed along it for 20 minutes or so. If you have been reading my blog since it first started you will remember the walk I did in the Lakes with Fergus in June. Despite knowing his boots were a size to small for him he came along anyway and although it slowed him down quite a bit he managed quite well considering the pain he claimed

to be in. He said the first thing he would do when he got back would be to buy a new pair of boots. Here we were 4 months later and Fergus is still in the same old pair of boots. So a frequent topic of conversations was yet again complaints of pain in his feet. Despite being 1st October the temperature must have been about 25 degrees celsius at this point in the afternoon. I was walking quick and was a bit reluctant to stop, as I wanted to get to the bothy before night fall. We had joined the Pennine way at the bottom of Dufton Pike and were heading for Knock Fell. We were both dehydrated and Rex was also hot. I decided that it was worth having a nice break by a river to fill up on water, let rex have a paddle and finally allow Fergus to rest his feet. After half an hour we continued. We kept going on the long walk to Knock Fell. The three of us all sat down admiring the distant Lake District fells as they stood proudly over the Eden Valley, the sun gradually creeping down into dusk. I put my arm around Rex and realised this was one them moments that you look back on with a smile across your face. A short time later we made it onto Knock Fell. I gave Rex his tea, as he seemed to be lacking his usual energy. The big 'Golf Ball' on the top of Great Dun Fell, that can be seen from Blencathra on a clear day and from my house in decent weather, was now very close indeed. We came to the road that led up radar station on the fell. This is used by workers there and is apparently the highest road in Britain. After a short stroll up the road we were as close to the summit as we could get, with out sitting on top of the station or being done for trespassing. We walked around the fenced of area and then onto Little Dun Fell. Cross Fell was our final objective of the day. At 893m (2930ft) Cross Fell is the 9th highest fell in the country and the highest point of the Pennines or any other part of the country outside of the Lake District. We ascended relatively quickly and the view was amazing from the summit a few photos were taken before we headed of the fell and looked around for the hut. We couldn't see it for a while until I spotted it and we set off towards it.
In fairness I had told Fergus that the day wouldn't be as long or tiring as last time and it kind of was in the end. I find it hard to stop and stay still when I have a planned destination. I'd sooner get there and then relax.

This was my first time in a mountain bothy and I was very impressed. Greg's Hut is well maintained and well stocked and I immediately felt cosy the moment I stepped inside it. A few others came with even more supplies. I had brought some fire lighters but they burned out. They had some so we used them and I got the fire going well. There were about six staying altogether but five of them were scared off by us so went outside to pitch tents, but one poor soul had to stay as she didn't have a tent to escape to. Rex, who has a tail that reacts to noise kept us awake. I stupidly donated my camping mat to Rex so had to sleep on the hard wooden platform above the fire. We ate quite well though. I am trying very hard to not use dehydrated camping meals as there expensive and disgusting. Fergus had some lightweight super noodles but I can't bear to look at them, considering they pretty much the only food I ate on my 12 peaks challenge. I brought some pasta and some carbonara source and ate it quite happily.

In the morning I had Ready-Brek and Semolina, which was quite a nice start to the day. Fergus had 'Cup o' Soup'. We then packed and after feeding Rex his Breakfast we left. I forgot to pack the Rex's Bowl. It's one of those red Sea to Summit X-bowls. If anyone's back up there before me, could you let me know if it's there still. We said goodbye to the other 5 who returned back to the bothy to cook breakfast on their stoves, and I tried my best to apologise to the women kept awake all night by Rex. She pointed out that what actually kept her awake was me commanding Rex to "Lie Down!". She even seemed to feel sorry for the dog, as if I was taking away his rights by trying to stop him wagging his tail in the middle of the night. On the way out of the bothy I couldn't help notice the beauty of the Pennine fells when looking to the north, I'll perhaps explore them some time. As for now all that remained was a quick descent into Blencarn before returning home.

A fantastic trip, with the company of two good friends.

Thanks for reading,
Please feel free to leave comments.

Ethan

Picos de Europa - Week 2

Monday 15^th August – Picos de Europa – Day 1

We got up at about 9:45 and had a breakfast of bread and honey. We arrived on a Sunday, so a lot of the shops were shut. We spent most of last night running round Potes trying to get food for tea and breakfast.  We thought the market would be a good place to start this morning. The market had various foods we could stock up on, such as olives, fruit and a piece of bread shaped like a tortoise shell (hardly the essentials in my opinion). After following Mum and Dad around the market for what seemed like an hour we were finally free of the place and into the centre of Potes, where we bought some maps and I found an internet café to publish my post on Matienzo. We then went to the butchers, where with the help of Andy and Julie’s Spanish, we bought our meat before returning to the cottage for a bit of lunch. Andy looked on our map and planned a walk we could do from a village called Colio, just a few km away. We drove to Colio (550m) and set off up towards la Riscos a col at about 1000m. On the way the views got even better, often the case when heading up a mountain. It was quite late and we hadn’t had tea yet. I was convinced I could get up to ‘Pico de la Paña’ (1356m) and get back down before dark but despite me trying to persuade Mum, She wan’t going to let me go up. But they did say they’d drop me off there the next day to explore the mountain range. We arrived back at the cottage and had a nice stew that Dad made. And then played a card game.

Tuesday 16^th August – Picos de Europa – Day 2

Pico del Acero Summit (1675m)

We got up at the same time as yesterday and had breakfast. After breakfast Andy and Julie set off back to their holiday cottage to spend the rest of their holiday there. After filling my 2 litre Platypus hydration pack and a 1.5 litre bottle, I was dropped off in Colio and set off up on my own, to where we stopped yesterday. From here I planned to head up to Pico de la Tarabiella, Pico de la Paña and Pico del Acero. Here I would get a good sample of what the Picos has to offer. When I reached where we stopped the previous day, I had to find my way around a herd. I set off up La Riscos and onto my first peak of the day ‘Pico de la Tarabiella’. At 1099m it was the highest summit I had been on, being bigger than any of Englands mountains. I then walked up the long grassy slope of ‘Pico de la Paña’ and after about 10-20mins I reached the summit at 1356m, now this was the highest summit I’d been up, higher than any of the mountains in England and Wales. I then set off down the grassy slope to the main col and then set off up the steep ground towards the summit of Pico del Acero. Looking at the map I was heading in the right direction but there was a bigger summit behind it. What was this? I decided to head on to the summit of what I thought was Acero and open the map up fully when I got to there to check where I was. I realized after a thorough check on the map that I was on the summit of ‘Pico del Acero’ at 1675m. This was now the highest summit I had been on to that date, higher than Ben Nevis and any other mountain in Great Britain. I descended with joy. When I got back I realised that I had packed another 2 litre bottle in my pack without even seeing it under my jacket. The amount of money you can pay for light weight equipment can all be a waste if you do something stupid like that. A 2 litre bottle of water ways little less than my 2 man tent. We went out for a nice meal in Potes. Before heading back to the cottage.

Wednesday 17^th August – Picos de Europa – Day 3

Mum and Dad on Cosgaya Walk

We got up quite late and after having breakfast headed through Potes and into Cosgaya. We parked at a posh looking hotel in our dirty car and got out in our scruffy holiday vests and shorts with the intention to eat there. Suddenly a waitress came out with concern and asked us to move. We told her we were planning to eat there and thinking very sharp and quickly she said it was fully booked. We were more than happy to leave this posh expensive hotel and move on to a bar, full of scruffy locals and tourists where we felt much more at home. After that we went for a small walk, described In the guide book, following the Rio (River) Cubo uphill, then crossing it and descending the other side. There were plenty of ripe blackberries to enjoy on the descent. When we got back to the car we headed on to Fuente Dé where a lot of tourists were found queuing for the cable cars and eating in the café. The reason for coming here was to have a quick look at where I planned to go the next day. I wanted to do an ascent from Fuente Dé to Peña Vieja. Most walkers and climbers would get a cable car for the 800 metre ascent to the top station at 1800 metres and then head for the summit. There were many reasons I could give for not wanting to take the cable car: saving €15, not having to spend the morning queuing, but to be honest the main reason, if not the only reason I didn’t want to take the cable car, was because I wanted to do it the hard way. Climbing a mountain over 2500m and doing only 800 metres of ascent seemed like cheating. Fuente Dé was still at an altitude of around 1000 metres but it was the lowest place I could start the ascent from that wasn’t miles away. I was still unsure what route up to the cable car station I would take, as I looked up at the frightening cliffs reaching endlessly up through the cloud. But I still wasn’t going to take the cable car unless there was no other way on foot. We set off home and I went to bed at an early time in order to get up for a long day. I had an idea to go up roughly where the cable car went as there looked on the map a way round the cliff faces that way, but there was no path marked.

Thursday 18^th August – Picos de Europa – Day 4

I awoke bright and early to see the skies covered with cloud. Rain looked imminent. I remembered reading that quite often mist filled valleys are likely to mean the peaks will be above the clouds and give a great view. Despite knowing this I decided it would be best not to go up Peña Vieja today. I couldn’t help feeling that I stood a better chance the next day. Me and Dad drove into Potes to get some information on the weather at the tourist info centre.  It is hard to tell what the Spanish weather forecast is trying to say. It is very quick and brief and the tourist information just had pictures to say something along the lines of what the telly said. We realized on the back of a leaflet that the visitors centre in Tama seemed to be of some use to those who were planning on venturing into the mountains. Seeing as Tama was 3 km from our cottage it seemed worth a visit and it was very good. They had a big 1:25000 map on the wall and on it was a a route marked up to the cable car. It went through a gully called ‘canal de la Jenduda’. One of the staff showed me some photos on his laptop of the mountain. It looked fantastic. 

By this time in the day the clouds had disappeared and we decided to go to the coast. We set off at about 2:00pm traveling deeper and deeper into the cloud the further north went. When we got to the coast, it was windy and a bit chilly. We stopped off for lunch at a restaurant before heading back to the cottage, stopping off at a cove on the way. When we got back we ate in and watched a film on the DVD player.

Friday 19^th August – Picos de Europa – Day 5 (The ascent of Peña Vieja)

Ascent through Canal de la Jenduda

I woke up early and had a big breakfast. The clouds were looming but I had a good feeling they were going to clear. We set off for Fuente Dé and arrived at about 10:30am. The map there on the wall showed the same route marked on the map in the visitor’s centre yesterday. I started my ascent at 11:00am. I was confident that the gully would be safe, but I wouldn’t be able to see it fully untill I was standing at the foot of it. Using the trekking poles I worked my way up the scree untill I arrived at the Jenduda gully. Even at the foot of it, it was hard to see what lay ahead. A storm last year had caused a lot of rock to fall in it. As I headed up the gully I realized it was bits of scrambling over rock and carefully making my way up the scree. I was already glad I picked this way, it was far more fun than the cable car could ever be. There was a bit of rope attached to the other side of a huge boulder blocking the path. It soon became clear I needed it to pull myself up and around it, but I couldn’t see what it was attached to on the other side and I the rope looked quite old. So I just did it any way and it turned out all right. As I started to reach the top of the gully, I saw a man coming down. I was already beginning to fear making conversation with him and hoped we would just say “ola” and be done with it. Unfortunately not. He started speaking at a ridiculous speed. I said the only Spanish phrase I know in Spanish, which is “I don’t speak Spanish”. But he just said “ahh! No Espagnol?” and carried on at exactly the same speed but started pointing to random places on the map. It seemed like it wasn’t going to end! He then for some reason started to build a cairn in front of me. My first thought was “I’ll just sneak off and leave the crazy guy to build cairns on his own,” but then I realized he was trying to say follow the cairns. I just said yes a lot and thank you and we then continued with our days. I went to the cable car platform to text Mum and Dad. I could get a signal here. The station was very busy. Although it was at 1800 metres it had a restaurant and a tourist shop as well as various other things. I headed towards Peña Vieja. The closer I got to it the fewer tourists I saw in trainers and shorts and the more walkers I came past with trekking poles and boots. I knew I was on the right track but had a horrible thought going through my head, suggesting I might have missed the turn off. I knew on the map that I hadn’t but just to shut the thought up I finally asked a man coming down the track I was on, “Peña Vieja?” Pointing to the direction with my trekking pole. He spoke some English and basically just said when to turn off at and that the views were good on top. I continued on up the track and then took the turn off path to the mountain. I headed higher and higher until I came to a small col between two peaks and ahead of me lay a bigger col and a huge steep peak. There was a guy chilling out on the ground, listening to his Ipod. I pointed to the peak and said “Peña Vieja?” he gave me the thumbs up. This was a big summit. I had gotten to about 2400m and ahead of me lay this steep ascent to a pointy top. I headed across the col keeping to the path away from what looked like shake holes. Then I headed up the steep scree until I came to the summit about 30 minutes later. 

Looking at summit of Peña Vieja

Torrecerredo and the surrounding mountains

On the summit of Peña Vieja (2613m)

To the south lay the surrounding foot hills of the Picos. A steep drop below me lay ‘Peña Olvidada’ a peak only accessible on a rope. For this reason many people go on to Peña Vieja, hence its name ‘Forgotten Peak’. To the north a quilt of cloud hid the valleys. Whilst the mighty peaks tore through it. To the Northwest stood the king of the Picos ‘Torrecerredo (2648m)’. Peña Vieja had been an objective for the past 4 months and here I was finally stood on it. At 2613 metres (8573 feet) it was by far the biggest mountain I had been on. After a lot of photos, I descended at a decent speed with the trekking poles down the mountain and along the col, then back to the cable car and down the gully. I slipped at one point and the fall wouldn’t have been anything too bad but one of my poles jammed in the rock and pole-vaulted me forwards. I was fine but I’d broken one of my £10 poles. After beating the handle against a rock I managed to close it enough to put it in my rucksack with the other one. The next bit of terrain needed hands more than poles anyway. After climbing down past the big boulder with the rope attached to it I saw a chamois, on its own, looking up at me. I gradually descended down closer and closer towards it but it didn’t move until I was very close. It then ran up a scree slope to a herd of about 10 other chamois. I looked up at the cable car making its way up in a rapid ascent and thought about all the stuff its passengers were missing. I remembered a sentence from Edmund Hillary’s auto Biography ‘Nothing Venture, Nothing Win’ Where he said “There are plenty of tamed wonders for all to goggle at through vehicle windows - we must also retain our wilderness areas where nature can develop in its own calm way and where only those humans who are prepared to walk and sweat a little qualify to go.” The two cable cars run all day and between them take 40 people up in about 3 minutes. I had only met one guy today doing my route to the same place through the gully. We only need to give a good bit of hard work before we can share sites like a herd of chamois resting on a mountain slope with that very small percentage of this earth that have discovered peace in wilderness. At this point I realized that through all the adventures I have been on in the past 6 months, at 15 I had seen more beauty than some people 4 times my age have ever seen. I arrived back at the car park at Fuente Dé and had an ice cream with Mum and Dad who arrived shortly after me in the car. When we got back we ate out at a really nice place in Potes looking out of the 1^st floor window on to the street.

A Chamois

Saturday 20^th August – Picos de Europa – Day 6

We got up late and after a lot of time deciding what to do for the day we ended up just driving to places we thought might be interesting. Mum and Dad had spent a lot of time in their holiday worrying about me, while I was up in the mountains. Dad is scared of heights so as well as worrying about me on the mountains, he has also been taken on a few walks by me and Mum this holiday that he didn’t particularly enjoy. So it seemed only fair that I should just do what they wanted to do for this day. But I won’t go into unnecessary detail about the day. We went to a church. It wasn’t open so we headed around for a bit in the car before heading for the coast. Dad particularly enjoys the beach, so we decided to go there for the rest of the day. On the way we stopped off at a roadside restaurant for lunch. When we arrived at the sea, I noticed there were a lot of caves around. I wished I’d brought my head torch so I could have had a look, but as Dad pointed out it’s not the kind of thing you’d think of taking to the seaside. Me and Mum went swimming in the sea while Dad lay in the sand. We then went back to the cottage where dad used up the stuff in the fridge by making a tomato based mountain stew. There was a huge lightning storm just before we ate. We all just sat and watched. I never knew lightning could strike in so many different ways. We watched a film and went to bed.

River running through Potes

Sunday 21^st August – Picos de Europa – Day 7 (our last day)

Potes

We didn’t really do much on our last day but we had a nice time. We got up late and lounged around for a bit before heading into Potes for some Tapas. This is perhaps the best way to fill your family up and actually costs less than the ‘meal of the day’ option. We went for a very pleasant stroll along the river bank before going to a lovely building called Torre del Infantado. From the top of this tower great views of the town can be seen. The temperature was 38 degrees celsius and the air was humid. We went back to the cottage and Dad continued to read his book while Mum and I ended up watching lots of Modern family episodes from a box set. After this we went and had our best meal yet at a restaurant looking over the river, which was very good seen as it was our last night. Another thunder storm came and we waited for the rain to die down before making a dash back to the car. When we got back we watched more Modern Family before going to bed. 

The journey home

We got up early Sunday morning and after Mum and Dad did the last bit of packing we drove to Santander where we boarded the ferry. I took some more of those wine gum travel sickness things and they actually did the trick this time. After spending the afternoon doing very little, we had a meal in the ferry restaurant, before me and Mum played air hockey and we all went back to the cabin to sleep. I was sleeping well and so was Dad, but unfortunately Mum wasn’t. If Mum doesn’t sleep well, then she’s so grumpy the next day that you have to avoid speaking to her. She said she got to sleep at 4am. This would have given her 6 hours sleep which you can sometimes get away with communicating with her on. It’s 5am and we’re both woken up by Dad who’s amazed by dolphins outside the ship. Me and Mum got up. “Wow! oh Wow!” Dad shouts, forgetting with all his excitement that the rest of the passengers are on the ship asleep. Me and Mum were too grumpy to put up with this kind of noise at this time at night, so Mum gave him a telling off. “But I just saw one standing up on its tail!” He said. Me and Mum got up and looked outside the window. It was dark and hard to see but you could see the waves breaking. Dad was convinced these were dolphins. So much so that he got us all out of bed to go and stand on the deck and look. It was about 30mins before Mum went back to bed with no signs of any dolphins. I was a bit annoyed at Dad for making Mum run on only 5 hours sleep the next day. However I stayed out for a longer time, still believing Dad who was utterly convinced. Suddenly we saw something “wow” I said, soon realizing what it was. Dad on the other hand continued to shout in excitement and point. “It’s just like the one I saw!” He continues to say. “wow!” I was a bit cheesed off at this point, I realized how stupid I was to trust this deluded man. “It’s a seagull!” I growled in a frustrated voice. Dad squinted at the seagull a few times, still unsure, before it flew off out of the water, and he finally realized. I then found out that all the other times Dad was shouting Dolphin and I thought I’d missed it, that they were underwater and what he could see was the light reflecting off there bellies. What I could see with my better eye sight was actually the light of the ship reflecting off braking waves. We went back to bed. 

The next morning Dad was being very friendly to Mum and even me as it happens. He had gotten up 30mins earlier than us and had been up on deck. He admitted that he noticed how far out the waves were breaking and it was clear he was starting to realize that he didn’t see any dolphins and he didn’t have a talent for seeing light reflect off their bellies as they swam underwater. We waited for the ship to dock before driving off it and slowly making our way back to Cumbria.

We all really enjoyed the holiday. I loved the Picos de Europa and I wish I could have spent more time walking and perhaps have done some climbing with a guide, but it is important to balance the holiday out. We’re all quite different in what we like. Mum’s ideal holiday would be horse riding through Texas, Dad’s would be lying on a beach in Gran Canaria and for me, if I had to plan a week it would involve a tent, a stove and lots of mountains. I would love to come back to the Picos sometime with like minded people, and spend the time climbing and Walking up the mountains. But I was aware before I came that the most important thing to do was spend time as a family and I did that pretty well.

Thanks for Reading if you got this far.

Feel free to post comments.

The 12 Peaks Challenge

The 12 peaks challenge was successful just to let you know first of all.

I am going to write each day out in sections so you can break it down into bits. I’ll try not to go on for too long, but I had an exciting time and have lots to write about.

I first had the idea to going up the highest 10 of  ‘Walking Englishman's’ list of England's Highest Mountains. I would carry a backpack with all my food and camping equipment just like usual and wild camp on the way. Looking at the map this route looked very manageable which was part of the reason why I decided to do it. Since then I learned about the 10 highest Wainwrights these didn’t include Lower Man, Broad Crag or Ill Crag because of their small prominence, but instead included Nethermost Pike, Catstye Cam and Pillar. To do these three would involve a lot more walking just to get to them. I decided the best way to do this was to merge the two lists together which lead to a total of 13 peaks, the ten Wainwrights with the 2 crags and Lower Man as extra. I then bought a Wainwright Hill Chart from ‘Guideus’ and looking at it realized it wouldn’t be too much more work to do the 11th and 12th highest Wainwrights on the way. So to sum things up I was doing the top 12 Wainwrights and what many people would class as the top 15 peaks in the Lake District, which if it wasn’t for Cross Fell in the North Pennines would be the 15 highest in the country. This manageable trip now looked like a tough challenge and I was beginning to wonder whether I would manage it at all.

Day 1

Bowfell Summit

I was dropped off in Langdale at 10:20 and after saying goodbye to Dad I set off up the Band to get to Bowfell, the 6th highest fell of my challenge and the 6th highest in the country. When I got to the three tarns area where Crinkle Crags and the Band both stop to give way to the magnificent Bowfell I couldn’t help notice a camera crew of 2 men with a man possibly in his 60’s being filmed going up. One thing I heard him say to the camera was “You can see why they’re called ‘Three Tarns’.” This was all said while filming me walking up. When I got to where the man was standing he said “Good Heavens! That’s a heavy load, I suppose you have to be young.” I couldn’t help but ask him “Will I be on the telly walking up there then?” and he replied “Probably, it depends if you choose the right channel.” This guy struck me as the kind of person I should recognize off other TV programs but I didn’t, so I just spoke to him like anyone else on the fells. When I walked up a bit further I saw two ‘fix the fells’ people and I recognized one of them off Julia Bradbury’s Scafell Pike episode. I felt particularly odd at this point I had set off for a week of walking through the Lake District on my own. Now I know just as well as anyone else how busy the Lakes can get at this time of year, but I hadn’t been walking 2 hours yet and I was feeling star struck with the hope of a television appearance. 

Great End - South-east Gully

Scafell Pike Summit

After summiting Bowfell I then went on to Esk Pike, no.11 of the Wainwrights. My knee was a bit achey at this point but nothing to worry about. I had started using the technique of taking a picture of my brand new NB baseball cap on the summit cairn to show I had been there when I got back. I did this on every summit throughout the week and it feels like a good bit of evidence to back up my success, not that I am likely to need it. I then went down into Esk Hause and up Great End I had read in the Wainwright guide at home about an ascent up one of the gullies and made a mental note to check them out next time I was on the summit. I looked at one and thought it could be doable but would probably choose to do it with out the weight I was carrying and possibly with a friend, (it is very difficult to find a committed outdoors partner though). After Great End I went on to Ill Crag. I was the only one on it which I find a bit of a shame considering it has amazing views of the River Esk running down into the valley where Cam Spout is. However it is always nice to know that there are places to go for those of us who love that feeling of peace and wilderness. I then went across to Broad Crag where again there was nobody around. Out of the two crags I prefer Ill Crag but would Broad Crag would probably offer good shelter from the wind if you wanted to have lunch there. It was then up to Scafell Pike the highest in the country. This was my 4th time on this fell and I was pleased to see Blackpool Tower and the Isle of Man to back up the rumors.

I had the remainders of my lunch on Scafell Pike before heading up to Sca Fell; England’s 2nd highest mountain. 

Sca Fell Summit

Great Gable - On a Great Day

I was at the base of Gable just after 7 o’clock and headed up at a reasonable pace for this time of day to be on the summit just before 8 o’clock. On it were two very friendly fell runners admiring the view. One took a photo for me before they descended. I rang Mum and Dad before heading down myself and setting up camp on the col between Great Gable and Kirk Fell.

Day 2

Great Gable and last nights camping spot
from the path up to Kirk Fell

Pillar Summit

I woke up at 7:50 and had overslept. I unpitched and made breakfast with the intention to set off as quick as I could in order to get a good start to the day. After doing Great Gable last night instead I wasn’t as concerned about whether I’d manage to complete the days route. Today was more about getting over to the Helvellyn range, but I would have to do Pillar as part of my 12 peaks and on the way didn’t see any harm in doing Kirk fell and Haystacks as well. It wasn’t long before I was on the summit of Kirk Fell, as I was camped on the col already some height up it. After taking a photo or two I headed down off the fell and up towards Pillar. The first half of today’s route was very much like my first solo backpacking trip in Easter. I didn’t plan this deliberately it just turned out that way. The only difference was I did the traverse along Pillar instead of going to the summit. I was on Pillar at a decent time so rang home. I couldn’t get a signal it appeared but apparently Dad could hear me although I couldn’t hear Dad. I planned to scramble down onto the traverse and then descend off that through the forest but I couldn’t find the right way down so just went back off Pillar the way I came and on to Black Sail Pass. Quite often on these trips I do, where I’m carrying a heavy pack in hot weather I feel dehydrated. I have improved this by getting a filter bottle which means I don’t have to boil my water. However it still takes a while to get the water out of the filter so I often only drink when I feel particularly thirsty. Coming along Black Sail Pass it wasn’t long before I came upon the Youth Hostel. There were plenty of people sat outside it and I asked one of them if there was any drinking water inside. He said that there was and the facilities were open to non-residents as well so I could even make a brew if I left a donation. I went inside and filled up my bottle to the brim and drank it on the spot, then I filled it up again and drunk it just as quickly, before filling it up again to take with me up to Haystacks. I couldn’t help notice the cosy feeling this old shepherd's bothy had. The small dining room was full of old chairs and the Kitchen had many great facilities, yet it still has it’s old feel. I think that I might stay there sometime in the winter so I don’t have to buy a warmer sleeping bag in order to camp. 

Black Sail Hut

I then headed up towards Haystacks, Wainwright’s final resting place. It really is very unique. Although its very safe, you have to make use of the handholds in order to get to the top. Then there is a whole fell full of life to look at. It looks the perfect place to camp and one day I’ll camp there but seeing as it didn’t fit in with my route I stopped by Blackbeck tarn to have lunch (dehydrated Beef Stroganoff), heading down to Honister Hause Slate Mine where I had an ice cream and bought a chocolate rice crispy cake. The place itself looked quite remarkable. It has a Via Ferrata course there and guided slate mine tours. It looks like the kind of place you can spend the day quite easily. I then joined onto the Allerdale Ramble for a short length of time before heading into Rosthwaite where I rewarded my body with water and cola before heading up to Watendlath and finally to Blea Tarn where I would camp for the night. Blea Tarn is a fantastic tarn. It is probably one of the biggest in the Lake District although not as visited as Sprinkling Tarn or Styhead due to its remote location. When I arrived there were a group of girls there who had set up camp. They looked like they were on a D of E trip or something. When they saw me arrive they looked concerned. I waved but no one waved back. “Are You alright?” One of them shouted “Yes.” I replied.

Blea Tarn

“Are you on your own?” another asked “Yes,” I said “Why?” What did they mean by that? Why wouldn’t I be on my own! I hesitated for a moment before replying, “I just.....do. Seeya!” I then went off to the other end of the tarn and after putting up with the midges while having tea, I went to sleep.

Day 3

I got up at 07:30 and packed up. I didn’t have breakfast because I couldn’t put up with all the bites I was getting. I set off for Thirlmere stopping to clean my teeth and zip off into my shorts which I deliberately didn’t do until I was far from the midges. I walked along the shore of Thirlmere reservoir before crossing the busy road and heading up to Nethermost Pike. I hadn’t had much to drink and a lot of the streams marked on the map had dried up.

Helvellyn - Red Tarn

Raise Summit

When I got to Nethermost Pike I was unsure of the summit. I had a quick stroll onto High Crag before finding out that it wasn’t the right one and then went back onto Nethermost Pike to do the whole cap on the cairn thing. The views of Striding Edge from it’s southern side were quite magnificent. I then went over onto Helvellyn, where taking my cap off the cairn nearly knocked the whole thing over. I then went down by Red Tarn to fill myself up with water before heading up to Catstye Cam and ringing Mum and Dad for a quick conversation. I then went onto Lower Man, the last of those fells which aren’t always classed as fells. My final peak of the day was Raise the smallest out of the peaks in the challenge. The Summit itself was very nice and had a beautiful cairn. I descended down towards Shoulthwaite. My bad knee was really starting to cause me grief. It was aching on almost every step and I was overtaken by a couple with trekking poles. I was concerned at this point as I had done all of the peaks in my challenge apart from one, Skiddaw. This was no time to give up! I stopped and seeing as I was on my own I had a good, stern word with my knee basically saying I was going to go up Skiddaw even if I needed to replace it when I came back down, so making descents painful wasn’t going to put me off any. When I got to Shoulthwaite I realized that when planning the route I hadn’t really thought about following paths and had relied on my navigational skills to get me across random fields up to the Castlerigg Fell area. This was easier said than done as it involved certain bits of fence hopping and I was carrying 15kg. Also I lost where I was for a while after switching maps, but when I found out where I was I hand railed along a stream and a few fences and ended up camping not far from Walla Crag. After pitching my tent and having my tea, I put my fleece on and walked over to Walla Crag where I sat watching the sun set over Keswick and Skiddaw with a strong signal to have a nice long conversation with my parents. My knee was feeling better and I was confident I would make it up Skiddaw the next day.

Camping on the Final Night

Day 4

Keswick in the morning

I woke up at 7 o’clock. For the first time on this whole trip the clouds were showing signs that rain was inevitably coming. I headed down into Keswick where I bought breakfast at Greggs, expecting to have a nice change from the rubbish I’d been eating over the past 3 days. It wasn’t much better, but it gave me a lot of good energy that helped lift my spirits, and at least the hot chocolate was nice. I then bought some water and headed out of Keswick and up to the car park at Latrigg. I could feel the joy of completing the challenge already and after a final lot of hard work I reached the summit of Skiddaw and rang home in celebration. There was a couple on the summit and one took a photo of me.

Skiddaw summit - A Success!!!

My challenge was now a success and I felt the trip had given me plenty of great moments with very few bad ones. I felt I could finally say I had done something to make note of. I descended into Keswick in about 1 hour and was happy to see my Dad who looked just as happy with a slight concern to how wet and tired I looked, so he took me straight into a pub and watched me wolf down a Steak and Ale pie with Chips, while I spoke to him about the last few days. We then looked around Keswick for a bit and I bought a very interesting book from Oxfam. It seems to be a first edition of John Hunt’s ‘The Ascent of Everest’. This was written in a month and published in 1953 the same year as the ascent. John Hunt was the expedition leader. I haven’t really started reading it yet but it looks really interesting with photos of the trip and a first hand account of all the dedication and organization involved in it.

If by any chance you enjoyed reading this entry then please look out for my next one about the Picos de Europa. It is a family holiday so I will make sure I spend most of it with Mum and Dad doing things together but I should hopefully get the opportunity to get out of our cottage and head up some of the fantastic mountains in the area some of which are over 2500 metres, though I won’t be doing too many of them!

Thanks for Reading

Ethan