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| That's me on the left, in the woolly hat. |
The day started horribly early, as I needed time to cook and eat a hearty breakfast, drive from the youth hostel at Coniston Holly How to the Sticklebarn Inn in Great Langdale, and pick up my radio and lunch before meeting the participants.
The night before I had taken two veggie sausages out of the freezer and put them in the fridge to defrost, to reduce cooking time in the morning, but as I made my way to the kitchen, I remembered that frozen food must be cooked directly from frozen and not thawed first, so I had to consign the sausages to the bin rather than risk food poisoning on the mountains. Then I found that I had left all the other sausages out of the deep freeze overnight, so they had to be binned too. I hate wasting food, and I do not take kindly to having an emasculated breakfast. Grr!
The weather was worse than the day before, but after a group photograph we all set off from the car park behind the inn, separately in our groups a minute or two apart and not en masse. I led my group through the pasture beside the river, rather than ascending out of the car park to the Cumbria Way -- it is only a few meters up, but I wanted a gentle start for a long day.
Langdale was beautiful, with the vegetation dripping with the rain of the night before, and a fine display of clouds obscuring Bow Fell and Esk Pike, placing them in mysterious isolation high above us. The moraine at the end of the valley felt rather magical.
We ascended Rossett Gill, then continued straight on to Rossett Pike, the first of the eight peaks of the challenge. It wasn't quite as windy there as I had expected, but even so everyone was keen to get off the summit and press on with the walk. We made our way past Angle Tarn and through the moraine terrain at the top of Tongue Head, then up onto the col, to put us in sight of the check point at the cruciform shelter, but we pressed on to Allen Crags to bag the second of the eight peaks.
Back at the shelter we stopped for a break, to adjust layers and to eat, and to be counted by the event co-ordinator.
We left the shelter and made our way up to Esk Hause, then on through Calf Cove, the junction with the path to Great End, and then across the first boulder field, which I had not been looking forward to negotiating my way across. This was not because of navigation, as the route is well marked with cairns and in any case not too tricky, but because of the significant risk of someone (me or a participant) slipping and breaking an ankle or a leg, especially as the weather was wet and blustery, both of which make walking on boulder fields even more hazardous.
We negotiated the boulder field safely, but some of the participants really struggled, and by now some people were beginning to suffer from the wind and the rain.
As we headed down towards the col which lies between Broad Crag and Ill Crag, I felt the need to check our heading and rate of descent against the map, to make sure we were in the right place and going the right way. I got out my map and compass and started my checks, but while my face was buried in the map, the fog cleared and everyone else except me could see exactly where we were. A teasing yell from the ex-Army mountain expedition instructor at the back of my group (a participant, but a very handy person to have along) made me look up and saved me having to navigate the hard way.
We negotiated the second boulder field safely but with more difficulty than the first, then started on the ascent to Scafell Pike. In the cross wind as we left the little col and started to scramble up the shaly ridge, I suddenly felt that all was not well. I huddled the group into what shelter I could find and told them that I would not take the group up any higher. I made it clear that almost everyone was capable of reaching the summit, (which was only about 300m horizontal meters and 100 vertical meters away), but that about half the group would find the descent very difficult and really should be heading back to the warmth and shelter of Sticklebarn Inn. I didn't like saying this, especially as we were less than 20 minutes from bagging the third, and main, peak of the day, but about half of the group said that the agreed and wanted to be taken back straight away.
I felt bad for the other half of my group, but just at that moment another group from the same event came alongside: I had a quick word with one of their Mountain Leaders, who then took half my group to the summit and gave me half his group to take back. Between us, he and I had made the right decision for all involved, which was a huge relief for me, as I really did not want to disappoint the participants in my group who were up for carrying on, but I had to take the others off the mountain as a priority.
With my newly constituted group I headed back, offering them the opportunity to visit Ill Crag and then Broad Crag, but some of them were soaking wet, and almost all of them were getting cold, so there was no urge to leave the direct route back to Sticklebarn Inn.
At the end of the second (more northerly) boulder field we paused for food and to adjust layers. As we were leaving we met my colleague Verity and her group, who were doing the same as we were, so we formed one large group, with Verity at the front and me at the back, and the new double-size group between us.
We stayed together until the descent of Rossett Gill, but then it became painfully clear that the knees one of the participants were locking up, so I did what I do in such circumstances, and walked her down, at her own pace and in her own time. She was in a fair amount of pain and more distress, so I gave her plenty of support, reassurance, and encouragement, and eventually we reached the valley floor, where her condition eased substantially. We arrived at Sticklebarn Inn almost exactly twelve hours after we had started, which is a long time for anyone to be out in such conditions.
The participants who had set out with me and returned with Verity had reached only two of the eight peaks that day, but the weather conditions had been pretty vile, and under the circumstances, they had done well. The mountains won't go away, and they can walk the route another day. At least one group did complete the whole figure-of-eight circuit and descend via the Band, and I envied their Mountain Leaders for that, but I was content with the decision I had made. As one of my colleagues put it, "Some good decisions were made today."
I was offered a vegetarian curry, but it was all carbohydrate and I was craving some fat and protein, so I drove back to the hostel and scoffed a huge amount of egg and cheese on a plateful of potato waffles, which made me feel great.
After a blissful night's sleep, I headed home the next day.
For the record, the peaks to which I took participants were:
- Rossett Pike (650m)
- Allen Crags (785m)
and the point in which we turned around on Scafell Pike was at about 880m, on the approach from the north west.
