(A few photos from the trip can be seen at :-
http://www.stevegwilcox.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/LakesGallery.htm )
Monday 9th, 6PM - Arrived at the Campsite in Monyash in the Peak District
( We left home for Eskdale much later than planned, and I couldn't be
bothered to battle my way up the M6 til morning ), set up the tent in the
pouring rain, then retired to the local hostelry for a bite to eat and a few
pints while we waited for the said rain to knock off. At 9PM it was still
bucketing down, so we retired to the tent. I nodded off listening to the
roar of torrential rain on canvas.
Tuesday 10th, 8AM - Woken by heavy rain on canvas - it hadn't let up all
night, and the site was beginning to resemble a lake, so we hurridly packed
away the tent and drove the short distance to the Old Smithy cafe in the
village - http://www.monyash.info/cafe.php - , where a huge breakfast ( a
superb full English with a pot of tea - £4.95 ) started me thinking
positively again. Up until now I was all for abandoning the trip . . . .
We drove up to the M6 J19 Via the Cat And Fiddle pub - the road over the
moors into Macclesfield was atrocious, with seemingly unending amounts of
water flooding onto the road from the hills. I tucked in behind an HGV and
let him drive through the worst of it . . .
Arrived at Fisherground ( Eskdale ) at around 6PM, after a flying visit to
Ambleside for supplies. Thankfully the rain had stopped by now, so up went
the damp tent. Talking to the site owner we learned that they'd suffered a
40 hour deluge, and parts of the site were under up to 6 inches of water. We
cooked and downed half a dozen hot dogs each and took a stroll to the George
V pub for a little nightcap. Back at the tent at 11PM I struggled to keep my
eyes open long enough to finish the chapter I was on ( "Touching The Void",
a fave read of mine when camping ), but failed miserably. I woke at 3AM and
hastily got into my sleeping bag - coldest August night I can remember for
quite a while . . .
Wednesday 11th, 9AM - No rain ! Blue skies ! After breakfast we broke down
the tent and packed the rucksacks - time for a night on the fells, away from
the crowds. An hour later we were leaving the car in Eskdale Green, hauling
the packs on and making for Whinn Rigg via Giggle alley and the wooded
southern slopes of Irton Fell. There wasn't a breath of wind in amongst the
trees and soon we were perspiring heavily. Luckily We'd invested in a couple
of Lowe Dri-Flo shirts recently, and they did a superb job of wicking the
sweat away, so we weren't too uncomfortable - just hot. Still, after the
weather over the last few days we weren't complaining . . .
Finally we cleared the woods and emerged onto the ridge, with the Wasdale
fells coming into view for the first time. Turning right we laboured uphill,
with the hot sun on our backs. I'd applied plenty of factor 10 beforehand,
but that didn't make it any more bearable.
We reached the summit cairn of Whinn Rigg, tired and sweaty, but didn't hang
around as it was cloaked in a black cloud of flying ants, and instead we
laboured on towards our campsite for the night - Illgill Head.
By now dark clouds were building up over the coast and heading our way, and
we had barely got to our destination and hammered in the last tent peg when
the heavens opened. Luckily this was only a short downpour, and the skies
soon cleared.
After a dinner of Chicken balti ( those ready made foil packed ones -
delicious ! ), rice and nan breads we ran a quick inventory of the gear we
needed for the night - maglites, Mini TV, cheese & biscuits, playing cards
and so on, then spent a few hours chilling out, watching the sun slowly set.
This was more like it !
I fired off a few shots of the sunset, then sat in the tent waiting for
dark - I wanted to get a night shot of Sellafield, which is a fantastic
sight at night - all lit up like a small town. Suddenly the tent was
illuminated by a bright flash from the direction of Eskdale, followed
closely by a long, loud roll of thunder. Oh no ! We were more than a little
exposed here . . .
I crawled out of the tent and took a look in the direction of the storm -
the sky was full of ominous black clouds which appeared to be travelling
along the Slight Side / Scafell ridge towards Wasdale Head. It appeared that
the storm was gonna pass close by but at a "safe" distance, so we settled
down on a boulder to spectate. The storm did indeed make its way over
Scafell, Lingmell, Gable, then off Northwards, and we had a ringside seat.
At its closest it came within a couple miles of us, and a magnificent
spectacle it was. I felt sorry for anyone who happened to be camping at
Styhead though . . .
With the panic over we set out our bedding and watched a little tv whilst
munching on cheese and bikkies. After another half hour in the company of
Joe Simpson it was lights out. I fell asleep stargazing through the roof
window of the tent.
Thursday 12th, 5AM - I was hoping to get a few snaps of sunrise, but after
being woken by rain being lashed against the tent by a gale force wind, I
decided that it was a waste of time getting out of my warm sleeping bag, so
I drifted back off to sleep after silently thanking the designers of
Mountain Hardware tents - they really are rock solid.
At around 9AM we had a breakfast of the remainder of last nights cheese and
bikkies, washed down with a mug of Earl Grey. I'd have happily stayed where
I was for another day, but I had to be home for work on Friday, so we packed
everything away and made off on the path down towards Wasdale. The rain and
wind had eased a little now, so it was a pleasant stroll down to the
junction with the "Coffin Road", where we turned towards the hamlet of Boot.
The coffin road was particularly wet and boggy today, and progress was slow.
I've recently taken to carrying a single walking pole to give a helping hand
to a dodgy knee, and it came in really useful here - stepping stones that
had vanished under the sludge were located quite easily. After passing
Burnmoor Tarn it was a pleasant walk down into the valley, and eventually
the rooftops of Boot came into view. Soon after I was sat outside the
Burnmoor Inn with a pint Of Crag Rat, stowing away the wet weather gear. The
sun was out again now, and it was starting to get warm and sticky, so we
decided to take the "Ratty" back to Eskdale Green. We arrived back at the
car hot and tired, but very satisfied - last nights wild camp had more than
made up for the bad weather of the last few days.
One last little job needed to be done - calling in at the Richard Woodall
shop In Waberthwaite to stock up on Cumberland sausage ( Yum ! ), then it
was time for the steady slog back down the M6 to Walsall . . . .