After a few months of silence, having vowed to blog more perhaps it is wiser for me to stick to the quality not quantity camp.
On Tuesday 16th Jan I found myself in a predicament, which on its own was not so bad, but when stacked up with a few other minor instances led to me having a reasonable 'moment' atop Helvellyn, a mountain in the Northern Lake District at the top end of Ullswater.
It was my first of what was supposed to be a nine day trip encompassing the Lake District and central Scottish Highlands, pursuing the prize of good enjoyable winter mountain walking days. The weather was forecast as challenging upgrading to downright exciting. I had all ready aborted an idea of a walk the previous day due to recovering from a combination of flue like symptoms and having driven up the previous day and getting in quite late.
My decision was made to tackle the Striding edge route of Helvellyn and come down Swirral edge. I walked away from the steamer car park in Glenridding at just passed 09:30 and I was firmly on the way up the mountain by 10:00.
Forecast was for 40mph wind with gusts of up to 60mph and snow, the forecast was accurate. Thanks MET. A challenging and thought provoking route which had me concentrating on crampon placement and some technical miked rock and ice scrambling. Definitely at the limits of my comfort zone. Then I got to the final 'abyss' section, which was engaging, and had me using the front points of my crampons to gain the summit plateau. After negotiating the small cornice at the top I bumped into the 60mph gusts.
Sensory overload started to take place, I made my way across the plateau to the shelter cairn and noted ironically how it seemed to be the windiest coldest spot on the whole mountain. I rummaged around for my goggles having stupidly decided to leave them off until the summit. The process of locating goggles out of the top pocket of a rucksack whilst on top of a mountain in 60mph wind with considerable wind chill well into the minus Celsius category aught, to be a well refined, practiced or even pre-arranged process.
The silliest smallest things become highly frustrating, I found to my horror, that the strap of my goggles had become twisted, and it became a priority in my life at that moment to try and untwist the strap, for approximately 5 minuets I got cold, I had bits of ice impacting my face blown by the wind and hitting my eyes, which hurt, getting more and more frustrated...
Then I realized the goggles would still serve there purpose with a twist in the strap. Priorities change.
With my goggles now on, I could see. I made my way up passed the trig point at the top and decided to forgo the usual mountain top selfie, I was cold and I now had an hour and a half before light was going to start fading. I was still at the edge of my comfort zone with little sign of things becoming more comfortable. I walked on my baring, that I had pre arranged back down on striding edge, from the trig point and located the start of Swirral ridge. It sounds really easy. It wasn't. The top of the ridge took me 20mins to find, as my brain had convinced me "not" to trust the compass. I found myself utterly bemused as to my location and feeling very...stretched.
So I found my way back to the trig point and using compass and pacing, whilst the wind was still gusting, re located to the right spot where I had been 20mins before and began my descent.
Time was pressing and my Camelbak water hose had frozen so rinsing the dry panic taste from my mouth was impossible. At about 3:30 I broke out of the cloud with glimpses of Red Tarn off to my right and bellow me I began to retreat back into that oh so comfortable zone.
The last hour walking out to Glenridding was accomplished in the dark, or at least it would have been if I hadn't been carrying my brand new Christmas present an LED Lenser H7R head torch, walking in the dark is a thing of the past for me.
On reaching the car, the adventure wasn't over as re hydrating myself and the return journey to Caldbeck also became a stretching experience. Blizzard conditions caused a few tightly clenched butt cheek moments. Once home a cheeky dram and some mulled wine helped ease those aches and pains of a long day on the hill. Looking at the weather forecast, the next few days were going to make the driving challenging and any more days on the hill equally stretching.
There is a reasonably common expression in outdoor circles regarding stacking up 'lemons' when you have lots of minor events or occurrences that can add up and conclude with a major event like injuries, broken equipment or death, I had a few lemons on Helvellyn, not too many thankfully. But enough for the meantime. Scotland will still be there but for another time. I have had enough stretching for a few weeks. I am better for the experience and I have learned at least to untwist my goggle strap before I go.
Small steps on this never ending journey of adventure.
On Tuesday 16th Jan I found myself in a predicament, which on its own was not so bad, but when stacked up with a few other minor instances led to me having a reasonable 'moment' atop Helvellyn, a mountain in the Northern Lake District at the top end of Ullswater.
 |
| Head to toe in Paramo. |
My decision was made to tackle the Striding edge route of Helvellyn and come down Swirral edge. I walked away from the steamer car park in Glenridding at just passed 09:30 and I was firmly on the way up the mountain by 10:00.
 |
| Coming down to red Tarn Swirral ridge in the background. |
Sensory overload started to take place, I made my way across the plateau to the shelter cairn and noted ironically how it seemed to be the windiest coldest spot on the whole mountain. I rummaged around for my goggles having stupidly decided to leave them off until the summit. The process of locating goggles out of the top pocket of a rucksack whilst on top of a mountain in 60mph wind with considerable wind chill well into the minus Celsius category aught, to be a well refined, practiced or even pre-arranged process.
 |
| My new Scarpa boots, with my DMM crampons and ice axe. |
Then I realized the goggles would still serve there purpose with a twist in the strap. Priorities change.
With my goggles now on, I could see. I made my way up passed the trig point at the top and decided to forgo the usual mountain top selfie, I was cold and I now had an hour and a half before light was going to start fading. I was still at the edge of my comfort zone with little sign of things becoming more comfortable. I walked on my baring, that I had pre arranged back down on striding edge, from the trig point and located the start of Swirral ridge. It sounds really easy. It wasn't. The top of the ridge took me 20mins to find, as my brain had convinced me "not" to trust the compass. I found myself utterly bemused as to my location and feeling very...stretched.
So I found my way back to the trig point and using compass and pacing, whilst the wind was still gusting, re located to the right spot where I had been 20mins before and began my descent.
Time was pressing and my Camelbak water hose had frozen so rinsing the dry panic taste from my mouth was impossible. At about 3:30 I broke out of the cloud with glimpses of Red Tarn off to my right and bellow me I began to retreat back into that oh so comfortable zone.
The last hour walking out to Glenridding was accomplished in the dark, or at least it would have been if I hadn't been carrying my brand new Christmas present an LED Lenser H7R head torch, walking in the dark is a thing of the past for me.
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| LED Lenser H7R on the business end. |
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| Home, my dad's snowy house near Fellside. |
Small steps on this never ending journey of adventure.
