Back to the Sea – Saltburn to Redcar

Watching surfers on Saltburn Pier at the end of the walk

The Stats

Area: on the beach of Saltburn of Redcar on the East coast

Distance: 5 miles

Time taken: 3 hours (at a leisurely pace)

The Review

After the shenanigans (or pantomime) of the New Year’s Eve walk we were aiming for a more gentle and simple trip out. And as far as walks go, you won’t find many simpler than this. A five-mile beach walk cracker on a beautiful and crisp Winter’s day.

Looking under the battered pier at the start of the walk

The walk started in one of our few picturesque local seaside towns, named Saltburn. Known for its steep railway that leads from the bay to the elevated hub of the town, Saltburn is popular but not crowded. The town’s other claim to fame is its stubby pier, being the most northerly on the east coast of Britain. We were to make an unscheduled visit to the pier at the end of the walk.

The directions for this walk were possibly the simplest I’ve ever had: go right, then left on to the beach and keep on walking. The weather was perfect for photography but the main reason why we went of this walk was to enjoy the fresh air and be happy in the outdoors. There might not have been any superb panoramas or an air of accomplishment but the was the pleasure of feeling the wind on your face and hearing the wave crashing beside you.

A dog frolics in the sea

I say the route was straight-forward – Dad did take one detour in order to check out Redcar FC (you might be aware of the enjoyment he gets from groundhopping) which he said “satisfied my curiosity”. Quite how much curiosity you can get from such tiny grounds I don’t know, but I enjoyed going along with him to the occasional match. Whilst Dad was away, Mum, Polly and I enjoyed a spot of long-distance hurdles over the breakwaters where me and Polly tried the climb our way over a barrier almost as tall as Dad. As you might have guessed, we struggled.

Once we had finished our athletics, we reached Redcar and breakwaters were swapped for imposing sea defences that were brought in earlier this year. Technically, we had finished the walk, but after 5 miles of seaside strolling we were definitely ready for lunch. Finding a restaurant proved more difficult than we thought it would be – the shop we’d chosen wasn’t their and our favoured restaurant was fully booked. After having a quick look around town and peering in to the less appealing “Fatso’s Filling Station” we returned to where we started and returned to Jac’s. Lunch wasn’t brilliant but it was acceptable.

The view down the street from the top of the Redcar Tower

Next stop was the newly built Redcar Tower, from which you can see much of the town. The design of the tower was interesting, intricate and certainly not ugly. I found it quite fun just running up there and looking at where we’d been walking on the beach.

One of the few panics of the day was when we faced a choice: go for the 3:13 train back to Saltburn or the 4:13 train. The time was 2:54. In the end we decided to go for the earlier train as we worried that it would be very dark and cold by the time the next train arrived. So, next challenge: finding the station. At first we had no idea where the station was and wondering from street to street as methodically as possible. Soon time was running out and we had to find the station quick. Mum asked a stranger for directions and he kindly informed us where it was. He also told Mum and Polly to go on the right side of the track which Dad and I didn’t hear so we ended up on different sides. Our side had what seemed like the only ticket machine so we bought our tickets and got to Mum and Polly by going over the bridge.

Surfers still riding the waves at the end of the day

The train was a short rest and from the comfort of inside the carriage we turned inland as we saw the sunset disappear behind the Pennies. Soon we found ourselves back in Saltburn and knowing what we were doing. On the way down the hill to the car we passed the site of a fire with fire engines parked outside. All hopes for a blazing inferno were safely extinguished – there wasn’t a single puff of smoke in sight.

The walked ended well, with an atmospheric walk along the pier, admiring the surfer and the dying embers of what had been an incredible day. The car was comfortingly warm and, as we remarked on the way home, the walk suited the day exquisitely.

A panorama shot of us on the beach

Posing outside the tower

The view down the street from the top of the Redcar Tower

The view down the street from the top of the Redcar Tower

Surfers still riding the waves at the end of the day

Walking accross the pier at the end of the day

The vast blue sea

Looking back at the hill railway that leads up to the main part of town

Polly and Mum start walking down the tower

Shadow on the beach

A dog frolics in the sea

Looking under the battered pier at the start of the walk

A closer view of the uphill railway

2014 Studley Send-off – Aislabie Walk

Polly precariously makes her way over an electric fence in a sugar beet field

Stats

Area: Studley Park, Aldfield and Laver Banks

Distance: 7 1/2 miles

Time taken: 4 hours

The Review

Christmas is over. So is that awkward period between Boxing Day and New Years Day. So, to celebrate the end of 2014 in style Dad’s chosen a cracker of a route for the last family walk of the year: muddy tracks, deep bogs, climbing over electric fences and getting lost in dense forests (just kidding, it wasn’t that bad!) So here it is – the last write-up of 2014:

A bench at Studley Royal

Finally, we’d had a succession of cold, crisp, proper winter weather but of course fate picked a mild and unspectacularly bright day for the walk. Despite this, and with Polly actually walking this time, we headed for Studley Royal and Fountains Abbey, a place we have often visited on warm summer’s day or bracing autumn afternoons. For the walk though, we only dipped in and out of Studley Park and technically only got as far as the outskirts of Fountains Abbey. Our aim for today was for the lesser known and less visited “attraction” that was Laver Banks – the third and by far least successful estate thought up by William Aislabie.

He intended Laver Banks to be renowned for its Spa water – water with a strong taste of sulfur to give a pungent, eggy smell.

The stinky water at Spa Gill Wood

People believed in those days that drinking the horrid water would clear out the system and make them healthier. Aislabie understood the public demand for Spa water and was trying to recreate the powerhouse of Harrogate Spa water and grow the Ripon Spa water in order to become their rivals. Of course, his buisness failed dramatically simply because they were too late. The popularity of Spa water had already reached its peak and at the time of their decline Ripon Spa water produced less profit in a year than what their rivals Harrogate gained in a day.

After setting off from a mill south-east of Galphay we headed south of the straight roads heading directly for Studly Park. We cruised through the perfectly pleasant Studley Royal and had an early lunch stop at the Fountains Abbey visitor centre (I had bangers & mash!) It had been a great walk so far, trundling along the clearly marked tracks with ease.

Me and Polly smash ice on the approach to Skell Bank Wood

Soon after lunch we encountered Spa Gill Wood and admired the grey yet pleasurable man-made landscape. There we saw the Spa water-mill and Dad explained to us the story of the Spa water. We crossed a footbridge and we were shocked to find that the sulfur is still bubbling nearly 70 years after the Spa went out of buisness.

It was after we had explored the abandoned Spa when we were reminded of previous failed family walks. We intended to climb a short, wooded slope and without stress or perspiration, appear on the rolling fields leading up to Aldfield. The reality though, was much different. After slogging up a steep valley side we reached the end of a forest but we could find the style on which we’d cross in order to reach Aldfield. Me and Polly scouted westwards whilst Mum and Dad thought thing through at base camp. In the end Dad lead us east through thorns and low branches, fallen trees and broken fences. Thankfully, Dad’s map reading saved us the second time round. Although, it was, to say the least, a bit of a pantomime!

Me on a bridge right at the end of the walk

The pantomime action was soon to be repeated after we had left Aldfield. First was the thick mud that ensconced our boots in dirt and the decomposing sugar beet that we were walking through. Next, and slightly more alarming was the 0.5m electric fence that we had to clamber ourselves over without touching it. With a bit of assistance from Dad, we all managed to climb over the fence and continued the walk unflustered and in good time.

By the time we had reached Laver Banks itself at the end of the walk my ankles were already aching. We ended the walk in a creepy large field with a horse and jockey riding a circuit around it. Mum in particularly noticed the “negative vibes” that she got from that place. The vibes became even worse by the ever darkening light and, as always, the car was a welcome sight indeed.

So that’s the end of another year of adventures. Its had fabulous summer walking and not so good cycling all round but on the whole, I think 2014 has been a good (and not disastrous) year of walking. Here’s to 2015!

Me on a bridge right at the end of the walk

Polly precariously makes her way over an electic fence in a sugar beet field

The stinky water at Spa Gill Wood

Me admiring the Grade 2 listed well top of the Aldfield Spa

Me and Polly smash ice on the approach to Skell Bank Wood

The church and obelisk we passed on exiting Studley Royal

The church and obelisk we passed on exiting Studley Royal

A twisted tree in Studley Royal

A bench at Studley Royal

The lake at studley Royal

Walking by the lake at studley Royal

Walking down to the lake at studley Royal

A car drives in the direction of Ripon Cathedral

Stac Pollaidh, Suilven and Sandwood Bay pictures

Here are the walking pics of our family trip to Sutherland earlier this Summer. The first set is of our first (and best) day climbing the “poison dwarf” Stac Pollaidh. It was a great walk and to hear more about it go to Unposted Adventures.The second set is of our very disappointing trip up Suilven. As you will see, the weather was far from perfect and we only managed to make it to it’s saddle. Finally, the third set shows our rather grim walk to Sandwood Bay. Despite the weather it was quite fun playing on the beach the day before we left. Click on any picture below to start looking at the gallery.

Ascending Stac Pollaidh (pronounced Stack Polly)

A rainbow near the top of Stac Pollaidh

An outcrop of rocks with Loch Assynt below

Dad standing heroically on Stac Pollaidh

A sheer drop down below!

A glimpse of Suilven through the clouds

 

Caustiously descending the ridiculously steep slopes of Suilven in Sutherland, Scotland with my sister Polly

Descending in front of Cul Mor

Passing a tarn with Quinag and Sail Ghorm on the right

Walking steeply down to the lochans

A boat at Lochinver near journey’s end

Talking to Mum at base camp using our walkie-talkies

Resting on the descent off Suilven

Approaching Sandwood Bay in the wild weather

Cleaning our feet after crossing to a mini island barefoot

Sandwood Bay

Sandwood Bay

A surfer and a pillar of rock at Sandwood Bay

Running from the waves…

Hikers at Sandwood

Hikers at Sandwood

Thinking deep thoughts and watching the waves…

Conquering the Crinkles – The Lakes Part 2

Soaking up the views on Crinkle four

Stats

Mountain(s): Pike o’ Blisco and Crinkle Crags

Height(s): Pike – 705m, Crags – 859m (the highest was the second crinkle)

Distance: 8 miles

Time taken: 8 hours

Review

The Crinkles were our second challenge of the holiday after the success of the Langdale Pikes the day before. We were soon to discover that this one was to be just as exciting and enjoyable.

On the banks of Pike o’ Blisco looking over to the Langdale Pikes

In contrast to the day before, we turned right from our tent heading directly up the banks of Side Pike (which we did have a think about bagging but in the end decided it was a waste of time) across a road and directly toward the looming Pike o’ Blisco. The path was far from clear but a good bit of map-reading skills from Dad soon got us on track. So, after pushing through relatively thick fern for 45 minutes we were glad to have a rest as the path became more substantial. There was only one way we were heading: up!

Summiting Pike o’ Stickle

The ascent up Pike o’ Blisco was a punishing one but not as long as the one to Pavey Ark and more pleasurable. There were good view across to the rest of the Langdale Pikes as well. Once over the disappointment of a false summit we reached the top of the hill although we did have to do a final 0.5 mile scrambling across boulders near the summit. Towards the end of the climb we did feel like the summit had somehow dissappeared or that we’d passed it. But after plodding along this barren but not ugly landscape we finally reached we summit and the views opened out. The summit was a nice one; a bold pyramid of rock topped by a cairn that looked rarther sorry for itself.

Sheep enjoying the view on Crinkle two.

Once summiting the Pike and taking in the views we headed the long way down towards the five crinkles. The summit of the Pike was a good vantage point to see the clear path up and behind Great Knott. We descended gradually by a knee-hammering, occasionally unclear and bouldery path. At the bottom of our slight descent was a crossing point in paths accompanied by the relatively unattractive Red Tarn. From there we headed straight forward to the crag often mistaken for a Crinkle – Great Knott.

As written in our Wainwright guidebook that we had to hand, the needle shaped Glagstone’s Finger lurked amongst the face of the crag. In the tent the night before it seemed an inviting prospect to go clambering amongst the shapley rock in search of a natural wonder. It turned out when we were there the idea seemed to extravagant as the Knott looked unforgiving and had a lack of paths.

Giving Gladstone’s Finger a miss we pressed on at speed to Crinkle number one on which we decided to have lunch. The climb to the Crinkle was simple although we kept thinking we’d found the summit cairn before we found another cairn that was higher but eventually we were satisfied with a true summit and sat down looking over part of the Scafell Range (we saw the full range later on) and east coast – yes, we could even see the sea and the Isle of Man!

The tarnlet on Crinkle three. The summits from left to right are Scafell Pike, Ill Crag, Broad Crag, Great End and Bowfell

After finishing off our freshly made tuna sandwiches we descended the first Crinkle looking out for the summit of the second Crinkle and the famous (more like infamous) Crinkle Crags bad step. We soon found that both were hard to miss. Having previously scaled the Blencathra bad step (see the “Rankings” page for the link to the full post) I was looking forward to at least having a look at this beast. The bad step was even crowned by Wainwright as the most difficult to pass fell-walking object in the Lakes. Initially all that we were planning to do was to admire the two slabs shoved into the rockface to deny easy acsess to the obvious route up the crag. But after seeing a man Dad’s age and a girl my age climb it successfully we crazily decided to give it a crack. And so, a bit of huffing and puffing later we found ourselves standing above the bad step. From there on it was plain sailing and easy scrambling to the summit of Crinkle 2.

And what a summit it was! The summit of the Crinkles had it all: the large cairn, obvious photo point, gorgeous tarnlet and panoramic views. Bliss! But we knew yet more Crinkles were to be summited and after the second they came thick and fast.

The beauty of Crinkle Crags is that once you’ve reached one Crinkle you can see the one that you’d climbed previously, thinking back to those incredible views,

Our descent path left of the river and The Band at the bottom right

and you can see the next Crinkle, itching to get bagging summit after summit. And also, there’d be hidden gems lurking around the cliffs. Adam-a-cove for instance; a strange outcrop of rocks situated on the summit of the forth Crinkle. Never has there been a walk I’ve been on packed with so many views. Once your up there you don’t know where to look – the visibility was excellent.

After the fifth Crinkle came the less exciting Shelter Crags, which from below look like a set of larger, lumpier and less exciting Crinkles. And when on them they’re not any better. Despite saying that, some interesting outcrops of rock became the last hurrah before the long descent. At the Three Tarns (the point at which we turned down into the valley) we had to make the decision whether or not to go back via a hummock called The Band or by Hell Gill slightly south of The Band. And as we may have ascended The Band the next day in order to summit Bowfell we turned down the much less clear, boggier, steeper, less dramatic and, as Wainwright said, not to be preferred to The Band.

So the slow descent began and at the end we calculated that I had been waiting for Dad a total of one hour (that’s all my rests waiting for put together). The walk down was not unenjoyable, just that it was very slow and painful for Dad.

Once we’d finally reached the bottom it was a fairly straight forward final stretch. We weren’t too sure with Wainwright, who said that you could go down a shortcut past a farm down what looked on the map as a private road. Thankfully when we got there there were plenty of sign saying “path” leading us in right direction.

And finally, after a slow but hearty meal of bangers and mash, the day ended tucking up in a warm, cosy bed, looking forward to waking up to the beautiful Lakeland fells in the morning.

Aproaching Stool End Farm on the final leg of the walk

Checking out a bit of late-night Wainwrights!

Mickleden

Resting in the sunshine at the end of Hell Gill

Sheep on Crinkle two

Our descent path left of the river and The Band at the bottom right

The Langdale Pikes from beneath Pike o’ Blisco

Soaking in the view on Crinkle three

Summiting the Stickles – The Lakes Part 1

Me and Dad on Pike o’ Stickle with Harrison Stickle and Lake Windermere behind

The Stats

 Mountain(s): Pavey Ark via Jack’s Rake, Harrison Stickle, Thorn Crag (not summited) and Pike o’ Stickle

 Height(s): Pavey Ark: 700m – Harrison Stickle: 736m – Pike o’ Stickle: 709m

 Distance: 8 miles

 Time taken: 7 hours

The Review

It’s been a long (long) time coming but I am back on the blog with the latest hill-walking heroics from our 2014 camping trip to Langdale. The trip in general was extremely successful with similarly stunning weather as last year trip up Haystacks and Scafell Pike (but not quite so warm!). This year’s duo was the Langdale Pikes and Crinkle Crags (which I will do in my next post). Both ended up ranking in my top 3 best ever walks; for full listings see the “Rankings” page. Next year we plan to head north to bonnie Scotland and Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park to tackle Ben More and The Cobbler.

To climb the Langdale Pikes and Jack’s Rake became the main aim of the holiday after we agreed to leave Helvellyn for another year (possibly 2016). We had arrived at the surprisingly busy Great Langdale campsite the day before and took a leisurely 4 hours setting up. We never had to drive the car all holiday and soeach walk started literally from our tent. The walk began with an easy stroll along the valley to the new Dungeon Ghyll hotel. This is where many non-campers parked and where hoards of fell-walkers started the walk.

At Stickle Tarn and Pavey Ark. Look carefully and you will see Jack’s Rake cutting across the cliff from the bottom right to the top left.

Indeed, the initial ascent was rather Ben-nevis-tastic; good views across Langdale but a steep climb and ruined by the constant flow of people. For me and Dad the ascent seemed to go on for ages but we were soon to find the it was well worth it.

Scrambling up a challenging and exposed section of Jack’s Rake on the dramatic, scarred face of Pavey Ark

We followed a slightly boggy path towards the north end of the tarn and then tackled a scree slope, which wasn’t as steep as it looked. Here was the true start of my first graded scramble. I lead the way in order to give Dad commentary during tricky sections. The first section was easy scrambling with the occasional trickle of water spilling across the rake. The first tricky squeeze and real challenge of the day came just before the lone Jack’s Rake tree. I just about managed to get up it and Dad made it (with a bit of guidance) and we both enjoyed our first view across Stickle Tarn. There were 3 or 4 more of these scary (but not exposed) squeezes to come.

Arguably the hardest section on Jack’s Rake was trying to get past the infamous obstacle simply named “The Gun”. It took me a minute or so to get past this challengingly placed rock. I made it to the expense of the knocked knee and Dad conquered it after passing all his bags and his stick up to me.

Squeezing past “The Gun”

The final hair-raising bit of the climb came during the final few move. It was a smooth rock that had to be scrambled on but had a vertical 100ft+ drop beneath it. Of course, we both climbed it, stopping ourselves from looking down.

We then had lunch and joined the main path to Harrison Stickle – the highest of all the Langdale Pikes. We completed a simple scramble to the summit plateau and enjoyed a stunning panorama view back to Pavey Ark across the Langdale valley and on to Pike o’ Stickle. Reaching the summit was a magical moment.

We pressed on and off Harrison Stickle to a crossing point amongst the pikes. Here we decided whether or not we should bag Thorn Crag. In the end we decided not to as it turned out to be a much longer walk than what we had expected.

The view of Pavey Ark from Harrison Stickle

After walking past Thorn Crag we reached the base of the well known thimble shape that is Pike o’ Stickle (note: it’s not Pike of Stickle – my preferred spelling is Pike o’ Stickle, similar to Pike o’ Blisco).

On Pike o’ Stickle there were also great views of Harrison Stickle, Pike o’ Blisco, Crinkle Crags, Great Gable and even Skiddaw, the third highest mountain in England.

We continued to Mortcrag Moor where Glaramara dominates the horizon, looking for Wainwright’s phantom path alongside Troutbeck Gill. We never spotted it and therefore found ourselves descending via Stake Pass, the path that connects

Walking at Mickledon beneath Pike o’ Stickle

Langdale to Seathwaite. This was a pain as we were heading for more mileage than expected. Our saving grace was that the descent was, in Dad’s words, very “knee friendly”.

The final section of this incredibly varying walk was at Mickledon from the head of the valley to the campsite at Great Langdale. This part of the walk was very pleasant with great views up to Pike o’ Stickle and Raven Crag.

I ended the walk with tired thighs and a cairn of scampi. All in all a fabulous walk but views to challenge them of the Langdale Pikes await the next day on Crinkle Crags…

Beneath Pike o’ Stickle at Mickledon

The home strait with Bowfell in the background

Looking back to Pavey Ark from Harrison Stickle

Dad in front of Harrison Stickle

Contently reading a spot of Trail (magazine) at the summit of Pavey Ark after I sucessfully scrambled up Jack’s Rake

Tackling the Gun

An exposed section on Jack’s Rake

Scrambling up a challenging and exposed section of Jack’s Rake on the dramatic, scarred face of Pavey Ark

Looking down to Stickle Tarn

The first ascent on Jack’s Rake

Starting Jack’s Rake

Walker and dog descending Jack’s Rake

On Jack’s Rake

Jack’s Rake

Jack’s Rake

Me at Pavey Ark

A Whole New Wold – Millington to Pocklington circuit

A tractor near Ousethorpe Farm.

The Stats

Area: Millington and Pocklington – the Wolds

Distance: 8.5 miles on paper but probably more like 7 miles

Time taken: 5 hours (do comment if you think this one is wrong!)

The Review

A short drive lead to our destination in Millington, near Pocklington, and outside the wonderfully named “Rambler’s Rest”. Unfortunately we arrived 20 minutes before it opened and returned to the car seconds after it had closed. This quirky signage set our mood for the walk in brilliant sunshine. Little did we know of what was ahead of us…

The view of Millington from Whinny Hill

We set off on the Minster Way in Wan Dale.  The following sunny mile of the walk was by far the best. We kept having to stop andadmire the views of Millington in the valley below. The path itself passed on the edge of a hilltop with the occasional twisted braches of a dead bush blocking the glorious view of the tiny village below. In fact, the views were so spectacular that we were convinced that at least one of the views must be printed on the front of the local paper; it framed Millington perfectly.

We then descended into Warren Dale onto the Chalkland Way past trees and the occasional patch of mud (few moments though my new gaiters needed to be used).

So now for the Buddhist Centre (Madhyamaka KMC) and a rare flavour of culture that we don’t usually see on grey (yes, it had turned grey by then) Winter walks. Traditionally called Kilnwick Percy Hall the Buddhist centre had the locally renowned World Peace Café – serving vegetarian and vegan dishes. But another one of Dad’s sneaky little surprises was in store and as I was happily sipping up my UHT soya chocolate milk long lost friends Liz and her daughter Hattie arrived under Dad’s invitation. After moving back inside we had a chat and caught up with each other’s news.

The protector

Later we entered the main building and wondered around the gift shop. In the room opposite to the shop was The Protector Room which hosted a large shrine showing a Buddhist god believed to protect you. He had four children, was riding on a very Chinese-looking dragon and held a curved golden sword. All of the models were made in India and painted in Yorkshire. The hungry god had been offered a range of products from the Marks & Spencer food hall which included yoghurt coated raisins and mini chocolate cookies.

We exited the Buddhist Centre and walked round the park’s lake as the weather really did turn

Exiting Kilwick Percy Hall

grey. Proceeding up to Hunger Hill and dangerously being forced to cross a golf course we continued on the Chalkland Way. Of coarse, now that I had taken my gaiters off to enter the Buddhist Centre the mud really did begin to come. We passed by Pocklington Wood after being close enough to view the town and continued the ever worsening walk along a main road.

Luck did come though as just when we’d thought we’d missed a turning to a footpath it did appear in front of us. Then having the obstacle of a stream in front of us Dad looked for any entrance to the right of us whilst we waited where we were. Little did we know 10 minutes later and I had found a bridge 50 yards away from us.

We returned to the road after a slight shortcut along the footpath and finally found Millington and the Rambler’s Rest again. What a day it has been!

N.B Look below for the polls.

Grappling with the forces of nature – Cayton Bay to Scarborough

Overlooking some hefty waves in Scarborough.

The Stats

Area: Scarborough, Yorkshire

Distance: 7.5 miles

Time taken: 6 hours

The review

Scarborough. An eventful winter’s walk to be sure: it conjured up two near death accidents, Polly sodden to the bone and me with two incredibly muddy boots. Eventful indeed. But how did these things happen? Well, it all started at Cayton Bay…

We begin with our first near death scenario when Dad almost turned into the right-hand side of the road thinking it was a dual carriageway. Thankfully he stopped himself just before doing so.

Me (3) and Polly (6) at Cayton Bay

We arrived at Cayton Bay at approximately 10:30am and strode off toward the beach in a brisk north wind. After half-a-mile or so walking we came across our first (and pretty major) obstacle. The Cayton Bay headland seemed to be the first barrier between us and Scarborough; but we weren’t going to give up without a fight! We made plans swiftly and Mum headed off towards the woods to see if she could find a way over the headland andthe rest of us began to clamber over rocks to try and find a way around it. The news came in that Mum’s mission had been successful and that she had found a clear path. On the other hand, after a little more investigation, we failed to find a climbable route around the headland (even though it was low tide). So we followed Mum off into the woods soon to find that we were yards away from the top of the embankment. There were three options up: a) a long and slippy section but had a clear, safe top, b) an easier route up but one foot wrong at the top and you’re a goner, c) the easiest of the lot but the summit is guarded by sharp thorns and an abrupt cliff drop on the other side. Thankfully we didn’t choose option c! Dad seemed sure that option b was the answer and climbed up me following behind. I fell down off the slippy route getting my trousers covered in mud just to find that the track lead to a dead end anyway. But more mud was still to come. Now Dad tried option a, luring all of us up this time. And guess what? Another dead end and three times the amount of people slipping and sliding dangerously on their way up just to find all their efforts were for nothing.

Dancing around – Cayton Bay 2006

So, everybody is frustrated with Dad. But our time in the woods wasn’t done yet. Dad lead the charge once again and headed off-track to find a way up. We followed and, yet again, nothing. But an influential happening decided our fate as we headed out of the woods, and decided the fate of my hardy walking boots. Although it wasn’t the event itself that caused the muddy boots.

As I was walking back to the track over a muddy hummock in the ground my right foot slipped suddenly sending me flat on my face in the mud. My face wasn’t too muddy but my buff (scarf) was. Mum kindly packed the muddy buff in the side of her back-pack, and we set off, roughly 20 metres behind Polly and Dad who had already gone out ahead.

Mum and I were thinking that Polly and Dad had gone up to where we started and to approach the headland from there. So, the two of us, walked along the beach in the direction we had originally came. That was until we heard a man’s almighty shout from the forest beside us. Puzzled, we continued until heard it again, even more urgent than before. We stopped. Then we heard a teenage girl’s voice calling out from the top of the trees. By then we were certain who they were; but how could they have got up there? In hearing the loud, desperate calls of “We’re up here!” and “Over here!” we panicked and I decided to scamper up and see what was going on. Scamper I did, but not for very long, because seconds into my acsent my right foot plunged into ankle deep mud. I tugged it out of the thick mud only to find that in my next step my left foot was to plummet shin-deep this time into the mud. I sat on a clump of grass for a minute, feet completely sodden and shoes twice as heavy as they used to be. I was still extremely worried about what terrible thing must have happened to the others in a totally different area of the forest that we were slipping and sliding in less than 20 minutes before.

Watching the sea last time I tried this route

I walked back to Mum on the beach knowing that I couldn’t climb any higher up the hill with such a sodden shoe. I called one last time “Come down!” before giving up and waiting for something to happen in the forest. We soon caught sight of the other two making their way down. Our first words were “Where were you?”

“Waiting for you,” Dad said. “You could have at least tried to call back.” Annoyingly Dad was clearly unaware of all our desperate efforts to try and find out what was going on.

So, it turned out that Dad had only shouting in anger and frustration rather than pain. We should have guessed.

A ‘backwards’ wave hitting an incoming one.

After taking off my wet sock and Dad thoughtfully lending me one of his we headed for Scarborough via Osgodby. On arrival we ate at Ask Italians and then continued around North Bay. As we walked along the bay we came to the occasional small port, where steps lead into the wild sea. These were now engulfed by frothing salt water every few seconds. These waves were mice compared to the waves we would see later on. 45 minutes later and waves were belting the sea wall producing spray up to 10 metres high: Scarborough was by no means out of the harsh winter storm. We soon learnt that if a wave collapses about a metre before the wall it will retain some of it’s height to leap over the fencing and also gain enough speed to produce the power needed for a whopper. We also learnt that a wave backs up on itself after it hits the wall and that when these ‘Backwards waves’ hit an incoming one it can produce a huge crash even before it hits the wall.

Polly and I gradually gained confidence to  walk along an area particularly battered by waves. Just as we neared the end of our ‘Walk of death’ Polly got the courage to witness a wave coming standing closer to the fence. And then, without warning, a huge wave came over, drenching everything between 5 metres in-land and the wall. That included Polly.

A later wave crashed over, even bigger, shocking me and Polly and almost hitting the entire family (Dad was 10m ahead). Me and Polly, stunned, ran away from it (which was in the direction of cars passing by on a road). Once again, thankfully, Mum had some sense to stop us. The second, near-death experience.

A jolly taxi-man sent us to the car and an hour-long journey in the car sent us all home, all tired, all desperate for a nice long soothing bath that we would relish. Yes, an eventful day indeed.

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To comment please click on “4 comments” (or on however many comments there are). I’d love to hear your thoughts on the write-up so any comments much appreciated.

Overlooking some hefty waves in Scarborough.

The power of the sea.

Stand back!

A ‘backwards’ wave hitting an incoming one.

Watching the sea last time I tried this route

Cayton Bay 2006

The big ben – Ben Nevis

Climbing the five finger gully

The Stats

Mountain: Ben Nevis

Height: 1,334m

Distance: 10.5 miles

Time taken: 9 hours

The review

The inital track up.

A long tough walk, just for the pride of being the highest.

It was the Wednesday of a great holiday so far in Oban. That day was by far the biggest. Yes, drum roll please, lets raise the tension – we were going to climb Britain’s highest mountain – Ben Nevis!

The early alarm call shocked us all. But we all woke up in time (just about) and set off for Fort William and the Glen Nevis visitor centre. After some treasured t-shirt buying we were straight up.

After crossing a wobbly foot-suspension bridge we were climbing up the obvious path curving round Meall an t’Suidhe and its neighbour Halfway Loch (which isn’t actually halfway!) The rocky path wiggled it’s way though bracken and passed the occasional blooming green tree. It was an unspectacular start to the walk with views over a large caravan site in Glen Nevis. There were small zig-zags a about 1 mile in but otherwise it was a straight path up to Meall an t’Suidhe.

A few wiggles later and we were at the Halfway Loch (formerly known as Lochan Meall an t’Suidhe). Polly took a few more of her videos, for her own sort of “video diary” which I will post later on. There were more views down Red Gill but no-where near as spectacular as the descent of Scafell Pike (see https://bertieksblog.wordpress.com/2013/07/16/scafell-pike/).

Looking over Meall an t’Suidhe and the Halfway Loch

We pressed on, approaching Red Gill looking over we zig-zags and loch. Everything so far had been pretty much uphill; we were soon to realise that non of this walk would be easy. We had a simple walker’s lunch of chicken sanwiches and Galaxy chocolates and set

Mist clears as if it were a puff of smoke.

off again up the mountain towards the punishing five finger gully! The five finger gully is a set of five zig-zags accomplishing the steep, rocky terrain it passes through.

Mist came and went blocking then prestenting the view. We lost track of which zig-zag we were on. We contiuously saw people with no shoes on! We once again saw one of those people coming down and wondered how their feet felt.

A few miles later and we were off the five fingers and aproaching the final plateau. The mist had really came in by then and it was hard to see more than twenty yards in front of you. Countless false summits loomed over us and many perfectly shaped cairns we passed. We’d get to a flat part (which we’d think would be the summit plateau) just to find another short climb to another small plateau. The last mile was

Endless mist…

agonising – we never knew how far away from the summit we were. But finally we got there…

A rest on the rocks was certainly needed the a wait in the queue up to the trip-point. Our picture was taken so we peered inside the refuge hut. Once we had had a rest were back down the same route again.

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Endless mist…

Looking over Meall an t’Suidhe and the Halfway Loch.

The inital track up.

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Unfinished buisness… – Easterside and Hawnby Hill

The Stats

Mountain(s): Easterside Hill and Hawnby Hill

Height: Easterside: 310m, Hawnby: 298m

Distance: 7 1/2 miles

Time taken: 5 1/2 hours

“Hawnby – it’s a lazy little village nestled amongst the beautiful Yorkshire Moors – in a word: perfect.” Me, summarising the walk to myself.

18th August 2013

31st December 2011

Another training day getting ready Ben Nevis was Sunday 18th and the return of Hawnby. The chilly new years eve one day before 2012 was when we were last in Hawnby, walking in between these two ‘twin peaks’ and ever since we’ve always thought we’d climb them both one sunny day. That day was yesterday – and a very sunny day it was! I wrote about Hawnby 2011 in one of my earlier posts on the old blog – if you want to know what I said go to http://bertieksblog.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/hawnby-climb-7-12-miles.html#!/2012/01/hawnby-climb-7-12-miles.htmlAfter 40 minutes in the car we arrived at Hawnby ready for whatever was ahead of us. We followed poor instruction but after going the wrong way for 5 minutes we go ourselves back on track. A few more fields later we reached Easterside Farm on Easterside Hill so you can probably guess that we were at the bottom of Easterside Hill.

Easterside Hill summit

Another field or two went by though before we could really start climbing. The climb was moderately steep but had continuously good views overlooking Ryedale and Hawnby.

The climb was over and after long discussion we split up into two pairs: me and Dad to carry on walking along the top north, to the summit cairn and then an extremely steep decent; Polly and Mum to immediately start climbing down and walk north along the eastern side of the hill. We were to meet up at the north base of the hill.

The steep decent – bum-shuffling was best!

I was with Dad and we followed a surprisingly easy-to-follow sheep track across moorland passing strange “heather circles” and what looked like some top of disused mines. Unfortunately views were hard to see due to the wideness of the hilltop but we both still felt the detour was worth it. After walking around 650m we reached the summit cairn with better views.

We knew there was a big decent coming up and a steep one for sure! We descended around 200m whilst the girls – who had stayed on track – watched us. Soon we were down though and after a lunch stop we were ready for the next stage of the walk.

The long bridleway towards Hawnby Hill

To stop the walk from becoming a poxy 4 1/2 miler the route kept on going generally north through typical Yorkshire moorland. Here what we did: We reached a gate on our left and the instructions say to go right up a faint path. We find that path and go up it. The path seems to fade away though so I go and check out a nearby post. Meanwhile the others see two other walkers and walk to where they came from. We eventually reached a second gate and the instructions said to walk north beside the wall for 200m then walk in a north-westerly direction. This is where we went wrong – we went west too early and found ourselves at a gate for the fourth time. Now all the instructions said were “follow the path along to a beck with ford”. Go left back where we came, right going north, or through the gate going west directly down into the valley. After some clever map-reading by Dad we correctly decided to turn right. Even thought this was correct we did get quite a way away from the hills before we started looping back. After walking down a bridleway from a bit we had reached the base of Hawnby Hill.

The strange plateau half-way up Hawnby Hill.

By now we had stopped using the instructions and just walked along the most obvious route. It was pretty easy to climb up Hawnby Hill anyway and soon we were at the top looking at the amazing views. After walking along the top we were ready to get home.

During the descent we came down a very over grown, almost tropical forest which we passed through surprisingly quickly. We then followed the road straight back to the car and the lovely Hawnby tea rooms.

In all, a very good walk on a sunny day, slightly and hindered by the moorland crossing.

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The strange plateau half-way up Hawnby Hill.

The steep decent – bum-shuffling was best!

18th August 2013

The good old Dales – Upper Swaledale valley walk

The Stats

Area: Swaledale – near Ivelet and Muker

Highest point: around 563m

Distance: 7 miles

Time taken: 5 hours 10 minutes

The review

“Bert, quick! I’ve found a cubby hole!” Dad at the lead mine…

10:00am on Saturday 11th August. We are all in the car, bags stuffed with raincoats and fleeces, ready to do our sort of dummy run for the mammoth Ben Nevis we are hoping to climb this Summer. None of us knew then how the walk was going to turn out. Over an hour later we found ourselves in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales ready to tackle not one but two valleys.

We started the walk just outside the hamlet of Ivelet and set off east over Gunnerside Pasture and the north beside Gunnerside Gill. Throughout the start of the walk we set ourselves topics to talk about during the walk.

The first valley was the least spectacular of the two and like everything on this walk would have been much improved if it were a sunny day. Even so

Me at the waterfall

there was a good view down to the valley bottom and across to an old lead mine.

After about a mile and a half walking across the valley we went slightly west, away from the valley to get past Botcher Gill Nook. There we came across a waterfall, surprisingly dramatic in this picture.

From here we carried on walking, gradually descending down to the bottom of the valley and to a ruined old slate mine. This is where we had lunch and a break before finding our way down the ironically named Blind Gill.

The lead mine

The steep scramble up the moor.

The lead mine was my favourite part of the walk. Cathedral-like arches was all the was left of one building and a tall stone wall of the other. We ate our lunch with our legs dangling over the stream as Polly taught me about deposition in the stream! It was and idyllic spot left all to ourselves.

After looking at a “cubby hole” just on the side of a hill, we set off down Blind Gill. After about 100 yards the route was scheduled to peel off left, upwards, towards the second valley. Yet we didn’t spot this path and instead carried on scrambling down the gill. Once we had reached a point where the river split in half we knew we were off route. Dad planned to carry on following the stream and walk across moorland for 400m to get to the main route. But after a bit more reckeing we decided to

climb up a steep grass hill and over 600m of moorland. The reason for this was that Dad found out that if we were to carry on down the stream we’d have to do some serious rock climbing across crag-like edges. So, we traipsed across the wild and typical Yorkshire moorland for fifteen minutes until we reached the path and had a well-earned break.

Further walking led to the second valley of the two. On the other side was Kisdon Hill, a very pronounced lump of land. On this part of the walk – more of a gentle stroll – the path lead gently down towards our well parked car.

In all, it was a good days walking and good preparation for Ben Nevis. Bring it on!

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Me at the waterfall