Okay, the Shaggy Inkcap was not one of the acts from the Lancaster Music Festival. This photo is the sole representative from our habitual Sunday walk around Jenny Brown’s Point, the weekend before the festival. I neglected to mention that my previous post shaded me into last October. So I’m now officially nearly ‘only’ six months behind!
Mid-October brought the aforementioned Music Festival, one of the highlights of my year, and, as has recently become a tradition, a gaggle of visitors to share the fun with us.
Peloton at Kanteena.
I broke with my previous self-imposed rule about not going to gigs on a school night and went to the Kanteena on the Thursday night. Local band Peloton opened (a ska version of ‘Psycho-Killer’ anyone?) They’re marvellous and we saw them again, later in the weekend. Next up were a sort of Latin rock-band from New York (who’s name escapes me) followed by perennial festival favourites The Uptown Monotones, who are from Graz in Austria, but who seem to have made Lancaster their second home.
Uptown Monotones at Kanteena.
As you can see, it wasn’t exactly thronged; unlike the rest of the weekend, when just about every venue was heaving. I think the festival may, to a certain extent, be a victim of its own success.
Siqian Li at work
On the Friday evening, I didn’t even need to leave work to begin my musical excursion. Over the weekend, classical pianist Siquian Li was playing all of the best pianos in Lancaster. Apparently, the very best is the one in our main hall at work. I had a front row seat and it was spellbinding. So good, in fact, that I persuaded our group to start with her performance at the Storey Institute the next day. UF was the first of our visitors to arrive on the Friday evening and once we’d met up we went to see…other stuff? I can’t remember now! Maybe we finished the night with the Uptown Monotones again at the Storey? Or the Gregson? Or was that another year? Oh dear. I can’t really remember many of the bands I saw at Reading Festival either, but that was at least 30 years ago. I’m sure we enjoyed ourselves anyway.
On to Saturday…
Across the fields to the railway station.Away from the Numbers at Kanteena.Harri Larkin at Lancaster Castle. Excellent.Lancaster Castle.Uptown Monotones in Lancaster Priory.A view over Lancaster.
I do know that on the Saturday evening some of us took some time out from the music to watch Alfie Moore, of ‘It’s a Fair Cop’ fame at The Grand Theatre. Very good he was too. TBH and I had also recently seen Bridget Riley at the Grand (I think). And at some point we saw Daliso Chaponda rehearsing new material for a Radio 4 show in a smallish room above the Borough Pub in Lancaster. Both of them were hilarious. Neither of these were that weekend, but since I didn’t take photos at either event I now have now clear idea about when they happened!
Reggie Mental at Kanteena.
Reggie Mental are another local ska band with a nice line in off-the-wall covers, ‘Inbetween Days’ for example, although they mostly cover late seventies British ska bands’ songs. The Kanteena was absolutely rammed for their performance.
A date for your diaries: this year’s festival is the 10th to the 13th of October. I’ve no idea of the line-up, but no doubt lots of local favourites will be there and hopefully some of the acts which seem to travel every year to entertain us.
The substantial track up Black Combe from the south.
Old friends J and A, MM and F, and UF had booked a cottage in Silverdale for the weekend. Back in our Manchester days, UF and I went to a fair few gigs together. (Perhaps I should say back in my Manchester days, since UF still lives on the outskirts of Manchester). One of the bands we saw together way back then was The Men They Couldn’t Hang. We’ve seen them many times since, although none of those all that recently. But they were playing the Platform in Morecambe and hence the get-together.
Black Combe
I suspect that J and A do more hill-walking than just about anyone else I know, but they live in Aberdeen, so chances to walk in the Lake District don’t come around all that often. J had never climbed Black Combe and asked was everyone amenable to join him in putting that right? We were.
Bog!
There was a little miscommunication over where we were going to park, but the layby we ended up in was perfect for our intended route – a north-south traverse starting and finishing to the west of the hill. The weather was a bit odd – warm and sunny with lots of lovely blue sky, but heavy, low cloud to the south. Black Combe wasn’t busy at all, and the people we did see were cyclists flying along on ebikes which seems to be becoming the norm for mountain-bikers.
The team by the large cairn on Black Combe’s south top.TBH napping.
I suggested this spot on the south top for a lunch break because it has terrific views over Morecambe Bay. Well, sometimes it has terrific views over Morecambe Bay, but not on this occasion sadly…
The view!Looking back up to the large cairn.
As usual, I hadn’t brought any lunch, so had a little wander down to another prominent cairn to see whether that offered any better view, which it did to a very limited extent…
A partial view of Morecambe Bay.The hills north of Black Combe.On our descent.Whitbeck
TBH and I then went for a refreshing dip in the sea at Silecroft. It was spitting with rain by then, but that didn’t detract I didn’t feel. The others didn’t join us, they were eager to get back to their cottage to get fed, watered and spruced up for our evening’s entertainment. My old friend X-Ray joined us at the venue and we also bumped into another friend of mine, E, who was TBH’s work colleague many moons ago and who was at the gig with a relative of a member of the band. TMTCH were fantastic. We’re off to see them again soon, well UF and I anyway, in Barnoldswick of all places.
The John Verity Band at the Silverdale Hotel Beer Festival.
A catch-up post to cover some ‘other stuff’ from last autumn into early December. First-up, the Silverdale Hotel, know locally as ‘The Lower House’, had a beer festival. The Woodlands has long had its own beer festival, and very good it is too. The Silverdale’s festival had the added attraction of live music. I enjoyed Billy Joe the Canadian’s act, but the big draw was the John Verity Band. They’ve played the Hotel several times now and we are incredibly lucky to have them. Mr Verity has had a long and distinguished career in music, his current band play a mixture of his own songs, old and new, and some fantastic covers, mostly blues flavoured. The beer was good too! At this distance it’s two stouts that stick in my memory, a black forest gateau stout and, particularly, a cappuccino stout. Yum.
Little S the Viking. He wouldn’t look up for a photo.
By contrast, here’s ‘Little’ S at Silver Sapling, where we organised a fundraiser for his scout trip to Bangladesh and India, long-awaited and delayed by Covid, but now fast-approaching. The event was attended by lots of local Brownie groups. There was a round robin of many activities, the main attraction being viking reenactors with axes and the like.
Proper Vikings. Probably.More proper vikings.
Nextdoor neighbour BB and I were on ‘Fire-lighting with flint and steel’ followed by toasting authentic norse marshmallows. Some of the flint and steels were very tricky to use, and the weather was a bit mixed, but the cheerful enthusiasm of all of the brownies and their leaders was a real tonic, making it difficult even for a grumpy git like me not to enjoy themselves.
The Mikron Theatre Company in the Gaskell Hall.
This is the Mikron Theatre company in the Gaskell Hall in the village. We’ve seen them there several times. This show was about the weather, forecasting and climate change, with a cast of four playing all the parts and all playing instruments and singing to boot. Highly entertaining as ever.
LMF: Away from the Numbers at the Kanteena.
The Lancaster Music Festival is becoming a much anticipated high-point of my year. This year, once again, we were joined by a number of the old-gang, who booked a house in Lancaster for the weekend. I went in to town straight from work on the Friday afternoon. Over the weekend we saw numerous acts of which these photos show a very limited sample. Away from the Numbers play covers, the Jam, Secret Affair, The Who – if it’s mod, they like it.
LMF: The Uptown Monotones at the Gregson Centre.
We saw the Uptown Monotones twice, once at the Gregson on the Friday and again at the Storey on the Saturday. They’re massively entertaining live and highly recommended if you get a chance to see them. I see they are playing a few UK gigs this summer.
LMF: Ten Sheds at the John O’Gaunt.
We’d enjoyed Ten Sheds in the John O’Gaunt in 2021, so made a point of seeing him there again.
LMF: Socialising at the White Cross.
I think the White Cross was one of the places we listened to local ska band Peloton.
LMF: a meal at Mollies, with the usual suspects and nextdoor neighbours BB and G.LMF: Peleton at the Merchants.A fight in our garden.
This photo was taken on the Sunday morning of that same weekend. A pair of Roe Deer bucks were sparring in our garden, something I haven’t seen before. In truth, one of the pair seemed distinctly disinterested, and kept trying to withdraw, but the aggressor insisted on pressing home his advantage. I took a few photos, but all of them came out a little blurred.
Keswick Rugby Club.
These two photos were taken, about half an hour apart, at the end of October half-term and probably sum-up the weather that week. We were there for a rugby match for B’s colts team, played on a pitch which was a quagmire.
The same view in the rain.Welcome to Twickenham.
Early in November, B and I travelled down to Twickenham with Kirkby Lonsdale RUFC for a rugby international.
Pre-match.
It was a great experience, but a very long day.
England vs Japan.
At least this was when Engeland were still winning matches occasionally.
Art at the Storey.Mostly ceramics.Romanesco Cauliflower?
TBH went into Lancaster on a Saturday morning to catch the last day of an exhibition.
Blue bowl.
It was terrific, with lots of interesting exhibits.
Busts.Driftwood?
Finally, at the beginning of December, TBH and I went to the West End of Morecambe for a Lantern Festival. It was on a smaller scale than the one we’ve visited a couple of times in Ulverston, but enjoyable none-the -less.
A brief video – less blurred than it looks here. Click on the image to watch it on flickr.
There’s a lot goes on in our neck of the woods; nice to take advantage of it.
September, it turns out, was a very busy month, with some notable highlights, so I have a few more posts to come. But I thought I would mention the poetry festival first. I didn’t take any photos, unfortunately, so I’ve used the opportunity to throw in some other September odds and ends.
A double rainbow from Aldi’s carpark, just around the corner from work.
Our comedy show in Brooklyn and the Latin band we saw in Saranac Lake stood out as high-spots in our New York holiday and I resolved to make the most of any cultural opportunities which came my way closer to home. So when I saw posts about a poetry festival in Morecambe I bought tickets for both the Friday and Saturday evenings. Given that the line up included Mike Garry, Lemn Sissay, John Cooper Clarke, Henry Normal and Linton Kwesi Johnson, all of whom I’ve seen live before, mostly many years ago when I lived in Manchester, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. They were all brilliant, as was Joelle Taylor, who was new to me. This year’s festival is scheduled for the end of September again and the line-up so far includes Carol Ann Duffy, Roger McGough, Brian Bilston, Jackie Kay and Henry Normal again. Very exciting! I need to buy a ticket.
A regular Monday evening appointment with the sunset from the car park by the wind-farm on Caton Moor, after dropping of S at Explorers in the Lune valley. This is a film, but you’ll have to click on it to watch on Flickr.
The festival will once again be based at the Winter Gardens, which I see has just secured a substantial grant for more refurbishment. With that and the Eden Project North and a host of cultural events through the year, things seem to be on the up and up for Morecambe. I lived and worked there for many years and am really chuffed to see it has a potentially rosy future.
Another sunset shot, with clouds over the Lakeland Fells.
Not a September thing, but I think I forgot to mention that in June TBH and I saw Daniel Bye and Boff Whalley at the Duke’s Theatre in Lancaster in their show ‘These Hills are Ours’. You may remember that I was involved with them in a project of the same name a while ago. This show doesn’t relate to that, but is about a madcap scheme to run from Lancaster to Kinder Scout to celebrate the Mass Trespass. Highly recommended.
This film is not of the show, but is about a tour in Devon, during which Dan and Boff ran between venues, in mostly foul weather, and is worth a watch.
The Copper Smelting Works chimney near Jenny Brown’s. TBH were still getting out for our local walks.
The rest of the party were heading for a tree-top swinging, zip-line soaring adventure, not really my scene, so, having listened to a few recommendations, I opted for this shortish route. TBH and I had driven through the pass where I needed to park on our way back from Massachusetts the night before, so I was well aware of the many set of roadworks on the route, but parking was at a premium and, having failed to find a spot, I still managed to get into those roadworks and then had to drive through three sets of lights before I found a lay-by where I could pull-off and turn around and come back through all three sets again. When I did eventually manage to pull-off the road and park I was very close to the trailhead. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that and walked a long way back along the road, in the wrong direction, looking for the path. Still, I eventually got started, into the deep shade of the woods.
False Solomon’s-seal.
My friend the EWO, once told me, decades ago, that he didn’t like walking in woods because of the absence of views. He may well have revised his opinion by now. Anyway, I suppose the lack of views made me focus even more than I usually would on the plants and fungi growing under the canopy. I was struck, for instance, by how much this plant resembled our own Solomon’s-seal. Obviously, I’m not the first to have noticed.
I think I saw about five Chipmunks during this walk. It was a bit of a fool’s errand attempting to photograph them with my phone, but that didn’t stop me trying.
Obviously vistas of any kind were a bit of a rarity, but at one point the path was close to a steep drop and the views opened up.
Cascade Mountain.
Perhaps because views were far and few between, when they did come I relished them all the more. I took a lot of photographs of Cascade Mountain that day. It’s apparently regarded as the easiest of The 46 – the mountains in the Adirondacks of over 4000′. Of which there are, you’ve guessed it, twenty-seven. Just joshing – there are forty-six of course. Ticking-off the 46 is just as much an Adirondack preoccupation as Munro-bagging is in Scotland.
Something about this ‘wasp’ made me suspect that what I was seeing was actually a moth, a wasp mimic.
Raspberry Crown Borer Moth.
I now believe that it’s a Raspberry Crown Borer Moth, a clearwing moth whose larvae bore into the stems of brambles and raspberry plants, causing a lot of damage to fruit-crops apparently.
Parts of the climb were very steep, with one short section bordering on scrambling, on very loose ground where the best hand and footholds were exposed tree-roots. Eventually however, I reached the broad ridge and turned right – which took me downhill and onto an open rocky area with sudden expansive views.
Cascade Mountain.Cascade Mountain pano.
Continuing down the rocky ridge a little way brought me to Balanced Rocks…
Balanced Rocks.
I’m not sure if they look it here, but these were pretty big boulders. The views were superb and, initially at least, there was nobody else about. I briefly chased a Monarch butterfly again, and some large grasshoppers, and a pair of chipmunks, in each case without any photos to show for it, before settling down to eat some lunch and enjoy the views.
Round Lake and the Mount Van Hoevenberg Olympic Bobsled Run.
Somewhere over that way is the small town of Lake Placid where the 1932 and 1980 Winter Olympic Games were held.
Balanced Rocks pano. Cascade Mountain on the right and…lots of other mountains!Another pano.And another – Cascade on the left Pitchoff on the right.Pitchoff Mountain. You can see the steep drop at the edge of the rocks here.
I followed a large dragonfly along this edge, trying to get a photo whilst, at the same time, trying not to lose sight of the drop and fall off.
Balanced Rocks.Round Lake – the open areas are the summer camp which our nephews attend.
Eventually I had company, an all male group (my guess, two brothers and their sons) whom I had passed on the steep approach to the ridge. Here they are on the boulders…
Balanced Rocks with figures for scale.
It was nice to talk briefly to them. They were blown away by the views, whooping and hollering in a very American way, and their enthusiasm was infectious. I took some group photos for them and then dragged myself away and turned back up the ridge.
I still hadn’t decided whether I would return directly to the car, or continue up the ridge to the top, but when I reached the path junction, I didn’t have to deliberate for long – I wanted to continue up the ridge to the top.
Toadstool and slug.
Immediately, the path was narrower and evidently less well-used.
The other very obvious difference was the presence of lots of clumps of…
Indian Pipe.
It was very common along the ridge. Like Toothwort, which pops up in the woods at home in the spring, this is a parasitic plant which has no chlorophyl, hence the completely white stems, flowers etc.
Liverworts?Another toadstool.
The summit of Pitchoff Mountain has no views at all, being crowded by trees. But a very faint path continues along the ridge to another, lower top, so I followed that to try my luck.
This top had a rocky edge, giving clear views in one direction only – you guessed it, toward Cascade Mountain again…
Cascade Mountain from the Pitchoff Ridge – Pitchoff summit on the right.
Now, it was just a case of retracing my steps back to the road. I was surprised by how tired I felt. When I reached the place on the descent where views opened out to Cascade, I seem to have found a better spot to take a photo. I think I was a bit less circumspect about the exposed drop.
Cascade Mountain and Upper and Lower Cascade Lakes.
It had been a really superb day, but it didn’t end there. I’d arranged to meet up with the others in the town of Saranac Lake which, of course, sits on the shore of….Flower Lake! (Which, to be fair, is connected by waterway to the complex of Lakes which include Upper, Middle and Lower Saranac Lakes – of which more to follow.)
Flower Lake, Lake Saranac.
We were there to get pizza. Do a bit of fishing…
B fishing.
Have a wander around the town (well TBH and I did anyway).
Dragonfly sculpture.Monarch butterfly sculpture.
And enjoy a free concert. I think the band said they were Puerto Rican, so I guess the music was Puerto Rican too. Wherever it originated, it was very good.
Free music.
The concert was the last in a series of free summer concerts in the town. It was one facet of the very favourable impression of Lake Saranac I came away with.
Lake Saranac sunset.
The town even has its own bagging challenge, to climb six local mountains: Ampersand, Baker, Haystack, McKenzie, Scarface and St. Regis. For hardy souls there’s a winter version of the challenge too, which I presume would have to be done in snow-shoes. Apparently, the winters are hard here; the lakes and ponds all freeze over and the ski-doo becomes the practical mode of transport.
Flower Lake moonrise.
Anyway, the Lake Saranac Six sounds like a more manageable target than The 46 and I’d love to come back and climb them all. (Spoiler alert, we did climb one of them – more to follow!)
After all that waffle, in my last post, about my aspirational hare-brained schemes, here’s the evidence of what happens when one of them comes to fruition. Or not.
I’d been planning this one for a while. When I say planning, I mean that in the vaguest of ways. ‘Thinking about’ would be more accurate. Attention to detail was completely lacking.
Sourmilk Gill.
My family had all bought tickets for Highest Point, an outdoor music festival in Lancaster, not to be confused with Lancaster Jazz Festival, or with The Lancaster Music Festival which is mostly staged in pubs. Why wasn’t I joining them? Well, I was tempted by Kaiser Chiefs and even more so by Basement Jaxx, but the latter were playing a DJ set, and frankly, whatever the attractions, they couldn’t compete with the prospect of a weekend of early summer walking.
Tarn Crag
So, TBH very kindly dropped me off in Milnthorpe, with about 30 seconds to spare, and I caught the 555 bus through Kendal and Windermere to Grasmere.
I must use the bus more often. It’s a bit slow. And we did sit in Kendal Bus Station for quite some time, for no apparent reason. But I enjoyed being a passenger, and taking in the views, especially after the front seats at the top became available in Kendal, and not having to worry about parking.
Easedale Tarn.
Anyway, when I finally arrived in Grasmere, it was bright and sunny and warm for once, much more so than the photos suggest. I popped into Lucia’s for some extra provisions (highly recommended) and then set-off up Easedale in the company of two gentlemen from the North-East, one of whom was very keen to ask for directions (“Is that Helm Crag?”) and tell me about his route, their accommodation in Keswick and so on. The other gent was as taciturn as his companion was garrulous, which made me feel like I was intruding.
Over the years, I’ve looked at maps of the Lakes (particularly my colourful old inch-map, which has a lot to answer for) and thought that I ought to walk along the broad central spine of hills from the Langdale Pikes northwards. I’ve also often thought that it would be brilliant to walk the long ridge from Threkeld to Ambleside over the Dodds and Helvellyn and Fairfield etc. So, here was my madcap scheme – to (sort-of) combine those two, with a bivvy in between, probably on High Rigg I thought.
Dor Beetle.
Since I was using the 555, a start in Grasmere would be easier than trying to get to Langdale, and it would also make it convenient to include Tarn Crag.
It was a really glorious day and on Tarn Crag I sat for quite some time, enjoying the pasty I’d bought in Grasmere and video-calling my mum and dad, to share the views with them.
Tarn Crag. From Tarn Crag Helm Crag, Heron Pike and Nab Scar, Loughrigg and Silver How.
Since I’d already climbed High Raise earlier in the year, I contemplated trying to contour around from Tarn Crag to Greenup Edge, hopefully visiting a remote little tarn on route, but in the end I couldn’t resist the temptation to climb High Raise again.
High Raise from Tarn Crag. Codale Head is the prominent pimple in the centre. Codale Tarn. Bilberries in flower.Pavey Ark, Harrison Stickle and Sergeant Man.
I had another stop on Codale Head, and sat for while.
Newlands Fells, North-western Fells and Skiddaw.
And then another bit of a sit on High Raise. The views from High Raise are expansive. On this occasion I was sharing those views with quite a few people, most of whom seemed to be participating in some sort of organised challenge walk, with people in teams; I wondered whether it was a corporate bonding exercise, based on some of the conversations I overheard.
Bowfell, Esk Pike, Scafell Pike, Great End, Great Gable across Langstrath.
Not to worry, they were all heading down to Grasmere from Greenup Edge, having started, I gathered, in Langdale. In fact, the remainder of the day was very, very quiet, at least until I reached Keswick.
Ullscarf, with the Helvellyn etc ridge behind.Looking back to High Raise.Helvellyn and Fairfield from near the top of Ullscarf.
It took a while to reach the top of Ullscarf, so another rest and a sit-down seemed appropriate. I have a bit of a soft spot for Ullscarf. Years ago I bivvied a couple of times with friends on the slopes above Harrop Tarn and would then climb Ullscarf via its eastern hinterland early the following morning, often in thick mist. In the days before sat-nav, I was chuffed when I actually managed to arrive on the summit. Those empty slopes above Thirlmere always seemed to be a good place to spot Red Deer.
I finished the last of my water on Ullscarf and then dropped into the top of Ullscarf Gill to refill my water bottle.
From Ullscarf: High Tove, Raven Crag, Skiddaw and Blencathra beyond.The cairn on Standing Crag. Last time I was here there was a fence.
Standing Crag is a Birkett, but not a Wainwright. It’s well worth a visit in my opinion. I didn’t stop for a sit here. It was well into the afternoon, and it was becoming clear that I’d probably bitten off more than I could chew.
Blea Tarn and High Tove. I think the lump beyond the tarn must be Grange Fell, which I don’t think I’ve ever been up.Looking back to Blea Tarn and Ullscarf.Shivery Knott, Shivery Man, Middle Crag, High Tove. It doesn’t look all that boggy does it? Compared to some of the treacherous mires lurking in wait to swallow unsuspecting walkers in the Pennines, for example, it was a walk in the park. If the park is mostly about 6 inches under water, with occasional deeper sections for added fun.
I can’t say I was overly fond of this section. I’d originally thought I would do an out and back to tick-off Armboth Fell, but with time marching on, decided to leave that particular delight to another day. When hell freezes over. Or the bogs on Armboth Fell freeze over, at the very least. It will give me an excuse to climb Fisher Crag. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.
I think I was thoroughly underwhelmed by High Tove. I don’t seem to have taken any photos anyway.
When I arrived at some flagged sections of path I was mightily relieved.High Seat.
It seems that a consortium of charities have been restoring the peat bogs here. As well as flagging the paths (sadly with some very soggy gaps between the flagged sections) they’ve also created little dams to create some really wet areas…
It was lovely, in a very wet kind of way.
The trig pillar on High Seat.Bleaberry Fell from High Seat. Skiddaw and Blencathra beyond.
If I hoped that reaching the rocky top of High Seat would spell an end to the bog, I was destined to be disappointed. But it was drier, at least. And after Bleaberry Fell, the bog-snorkelling comes to an end.
Skiddaw, Keswick and Bassenthwaite Lake from Bleaberry Fell.Bleaberry Fell from Walla Crag.Derwent Water and the surrounding hills from Walla Crag.Keswick and Skiddaw from Walla CragDerwent Water and Bassenthwaite Lake from Walla Crag.
I had a long overdue rest on Walla Crag. I must have looked all-in, as a bloke who walked past asked me if I was okay. Which I was, of course. The light was lovely.
I did briefly contemplate a bivvy on (or near) Walla Crag, but I’d been promising myself a take-away tea in Keswick all day and the draw of a greasy, high-calorie meal won out.
Keswick and Skiddaw and the setting sun from my descent route.
It was still light, just about, as I arrived on the outskirts of town, but it was also almost 10 o’clock, and I was striding out whilst using Google Maps in an attempt to work out where the nearest open shop was. Fortunately, I found a little grocery store which was still serving and stocked up on water and ginger beer. It had been thirsty work!
One of the pubs near the Moot Hall had a live band who were playing an excellent selection of covers. (Heart of Glass, Take Me Out, Maggie May, for example, if memory serves me right.) It was very loud out in the street, lord knows what it was like inside the pub. The town centre was extremely busy with revellers, I suppose I probably stuck-out like a sore-thumb. Or a sun-burned, muddy, sweaty, but very happy hill-walker. Anyway, I found a bench where I could listen to the band and tucked into my well-earned donner and chips. So I got my live music in the end, on top of a day’s walking.
I’d already decided by now that High Rigg (where I envisaged a soft heather bed and a very comfortable night) was much too far away. I was also having doubts about my proposed return route – it would be both longer and with more up and down than the walk I had just done. Too much, I thought.
I opted instead for a midnight ramble on Latrigg.
It was dark, but the moon was bright and it’s a wide, well-made path, so I didn’t really need my headtorch. After a warm day, there was now a cooling breeze. Actually, it was pretty windy and quite cool.
I found what seemed like a reasonable spot, overlooking the town, put on every item of clothing I’d brought, including a balaclava, and climbed into my sleeping and bivvy bags.
How did I sleep? Well, better than I’d expected, which is to say – some. The ground was a bit hard, without a cushioning of heather. Also, at some point during the night, the wind changed direction and I woke up to find that it was blowing over my shoulders and directly into my sleeping bag. I’m usually reluctant to completely seal my bag over my head, it’s a bit claustrophobic I find, but I did that now and then slept much more soundly.
Keswick and Derwent Water from Latrigg.
The app gives just over 20 miles all told, and almost 1300m of climbing (which is a bit of an underestimate I think, but maybe not too far out).
Wainwrights: Tarn Crag, High Raise, Ullscarf, High Tove, High Seat, Bleaberry Fell, Walla Crag, Latrigg.
Birketts: all of the above, plus Codale Head, Low White Stones, Standing Crag, Watendlath Fell, Shivery Knott, Middle Crag (I narrowly bypassed Blea Tarn Fell, but, fortunately, I’ve been up there before).
I’m grateful to Mr Birkett for all of those extra ticks: fourteen tops feels like a better return on the effort than eight. Some of them are a bit underwhelming however, but if you like walking in the Lakes (and why wouldn’t you?) I would recommend checking out Codale Head and Standing Crag, I think they should be in everybody’s lists.
And my new plan for the morrow?
You’ll have to wait!
(A short playlist for this post: ‘Higher Ground’ Stevie Wonder, ‘Gotta Keep Walking’ Willy Mason, ‘May You Never’ John Martyn.)
We’ve reached October in the world of my blog now. I’ll soon be caught up!(?)
The photos here are from a day with two walks. In the morning, it was the usual wander around Jenny Brown’s Point. It looks like the weather was good, so I’m surprised that I hardly took any photos.
A feast of fungi?
Later, B was kick-boxing, I think his first time back after an extended lay-off following his knee surgery and a long course of physio to deal with pain and stiffness after the opp and the muscle imbalances which probably gave rise to the problem to begin with.
River Lune
Whilst he was sparring, I had a wander along the Lune. This…
Lune West Bridge
…is the newish bridge built to facilitate the new junction 34 on the M6. I was surprised, when the bridge was built, both by the huge size of the prefabricated metal spans and by the fact that they were already rusted, assuming that is rust?
This is the older M6 bridge…
Lune Bridge.
…built with parallel spans of concrete. There’s a fair bit of graffiti on those supporting walls above the arches. Whenever I see graffiti in inaccessible places like that I wonder about who gets up there to do it? And how? And why?
Just a little way upriver from the motorway, some houses in Halton have fabulous looking gardens sloping gently down to the river. I was particularly taken by this fetching boathouse…
…which looks like it might be a family home too.
Finally, the following photo, taken on the Friday evening after these two walks, is the only one I took during the Lancaster Music Festival.
The Balkanics at The White Cross.
I should have taken more, it was a fantastic event. By this point I’d already seen, and heard, a couple of other acts, having stayed in Lancaster after work. A met me in the White Cross, and we met X-Ray somewhere after that. Later in the evening, the Herefordshire Hoofers arrived to catch the Uptown Monotones at the Storey Institute (my highlight of the weekend). We caught lots of other acts the following day. After being confined to barracks for so long, it was great to get back to socialising and seeing bands and having a few beers. Having said that, a week later I had Covid. None of the rest of our party did, however, so it’s equally possible that I caught it at work. I’ll never know. What I do know is that the dates for this year’s festival are the 13th to the 16th of October and that I shall be in attendance once again. Any takers?
UF was up from Manchester since we had tickets to see Martin Simpson and Martin Taylor at the Brewery Arts in Kendal. I invited TC to bring his dogs out for a walk around the village with us. We started in Eaves Wood with a visit to the Pepper Pot, then walked through Burton Well Wood and across Lambert’s Meadow. The fact that I have no photographs is, I think, a good indication of how poor the weather was. In the photo above, we are at the now decrepit bench at the top of the hill at Myer’s Allotment. Even on a wet day there was a bit of a view over Leighton Moss…
We dropped down through Fleagarth Wood to Jenny Brown’s Point, where, since it had stopped raining and the sand was reasonably firm, we decided to walk around the coast back to the village.
It was bracingly windy and rather splendid.
Ink Caps, I think.
The next morning, a Sunday, UF made an early exit to make a prior engagement. Usually, when he makes a Sunday flit, he’ll be playing snap – the variant that has ‘seven no trumps’ and the like – or watching City play, but, if I remember right, on this occasion he was meeting friends for a walk. It might have been a good one, because the weather was much brighter, with big clouds, plenty of sunshine and heavy showers tracking in off the Bay. Having said that, I didn’t set out for a walk until late afternoon, so it’s possible I’d been waiting for the weather to improve.
I managed to string a five mile route out over nearly three hours. Tea breaks to sit and watch the showers falling elsewhere were the order of the day.
At Far Arnside, I spent some time looking for the fossilised corals in the rocks on the edge of the Bay; something I hadn’t done for quite some time.
Clougha Pike and Ward’s Stone from Heathwaite.Kent Estuary and Whitbarrow from Arnside Knott.Humphrey Head.
I was surprised to get to the top of Arnside Knott without being caught by any showers. Perhaps I celebrated too soon: as I began to descend, it finally started to rain on me.
It was short lived though, and brought a rainbow with it.
Mushroom cloud formation above Heysham Nuclear Power Plant. Hmmm.Late light on the houses of Townsfield.Almost home. More rain and another rainbow.
Here’s the two Martins, performing a song from Martin Simpson’s repertoire, written, I think, by his father-in-law. It seems highly appropriate for these ‘Eat or Heat’ times.
A never-ending game of Kubb in full swing. “It’s all luck”.
The summer holidays arrived and, unfortunately, Wales was still closed to visitors so we couldn’t make our usual pilgrimage to the Llyn Peninsula. Happily, TBF came to our rescue and booked us all places on Sytche Campsite on the outskirts of Much Wenlock in Shropshire.
The terrace and the view.
We arrived late on the Saturday night, having missed the bad weather which the others had endured. After that the sun shone and we took the opportunity to laze around the campsite and play Mölky and a never-ending game of Kubb, which had to be abandoned from time to time to make time for inconvenient things like eating and sleeping. TJS, a physicist, seems to have adopted a probabilistic, Quantum Mechanics philosophy of playing in which there is no skill involved and Schrödinger’s block only gets knocked over if the thrower of the stick is ‘lucky’. I shall just say that some players seem to be a lot luckier than others.
Musk Mallow
Before we set off, I’d looked at an OS map of the area and noticed, with some alarm, the many contour lines sweeping across the campsite. In the event, the field had been very cleverly terraced so that the pitches were level despite the slope. We were at the top, with a pleasant view.
In between the terraces the steep banks had been sown with wildflowers and were busy with butterflies, bees and other insects, so I was in my element.
Hoverfly: Sphaerophoria Scriptaon Field Bindweed.Small White on Ragwort.Viper’s Bugloss.(One of the) white-tailed bumblees on Common Knapweed.Field Scabious.Yarrow.Meadow Brown.Another hoverfly on Common Knapweed.Drone Fly on Oxeye Daisy
After so long confined to barracks, it was great to see our old friends again, catch-up and chill-out. We managed a couple of excursions too, of which more to follow.
After the sad demise of Toots Hibbert I wanted to post a Maytals song. But which one? ‘Funky Kingston’ is one of my favourite songs, in any genre, so that would be the obvious choice. But then ‘Pressure Drop’, ’54-46′, ‘Monkey Man’, ‘Time Tough’, so many to choose. And then there’s their great covers, of which ‘Country Roads’ is my favourite. In the end, I’ve plumped for this…
…because I’ve recently been listening to Chaka Demus and Pliers brilliant 1993 album ‘Tease Me’ which has some brilliant covers including this…
The day after my ascent of Clougha and A has another lesson. It was even hotter than the day before and I opted for a level walk in the Lune valley. I originally planned to park at Crook O’Lune, but it was heaving, so plan B was to start from the Bull Beck car park near Brookhouse.
I followed a simple loop along the Lune and then finished along the old railway line, the Lune Valley Ramble, from Crook O’Lune.
The Lune and Aughton Woods.
This spot, with a nice view along the valley to Ingleborough and a mile from the car park, would be a good place for a socially-distanced swim. Another time.
A juvenile Oystercatcher with parent.
Waterworks Bridge – carrying water from Haweswater to Manchester.
A pair of Goosanders – I think a female and a male in eclipse plumage.
I was a bit confused by this umbellifer which had a very large flower and thick stem.
I think it must be common-or-garden Hogweed; I didn’t think the leaves were right, but apparently they are very variable in shape.
This little footbridge crosses…
…Bull Beck, another tributary for my Lune Catchment collection.
You can’t really tell from the photograph, but as I got close to Crook O’Lune both the river and its banks got very busy; plenty of people were enjoying the heat and the sunshine.
I’d faffed about finding a place to park and then dawdled taking photos on a walk which I had significantly underestimated. I was even later getting back into Lancaster to pick-up A. Fortunately, she’d found a bench to sit on in the sunshine and seemed quite sanguine about my tardiness.
Beating The Bounds 