Newbury Mountain Club Journal 2008
Click on any photo thumbnail to see the full picture.
12 Jan -
AGM
18-20 Jan - Cader Idris
1-3 Feb - North Wales
22-24 Feb - Lake District
7-9 March - Dartmoor
4-6 April - Wales
18-20 April - Dorset
2-5 May - Wye Valley
23-26 May - North Pennines
24-28 May - Fontainebleau
13-15 June - Peak District
27-29 June - Rhinogs
25-27 July - Lake District
8-10 August - Southern Sandstone
8-17 August - Pyrenees
22-25 August - Pembrokeshire
4-7 Sept - Ireland
13 Sept - Day Walk
19-21 Sept - Gower
3-5 Oct - Cornwall
7-9 Nov - Yorkshire
28-30 Nov - Oswestry area
13 Dec - Christmas Walk
12 Jan - Annual General Meeting
Once again, the AGM was held at the Chequers. The meeting included the usual formalities with the accounts and elections, and the new committee was unanimously elected as follows:
President: Dan Unwin
Treasurer: Richard Spraggett
Secretary: Andrew McLay
Committee: Sarah Davies (Webmaster), Martin Butler, Marion Foster, Keyna Garner, Dave Hall, Bob Hotchkis, Richard North, Claire White
The meeting included discussion of items such as hiring the Waterside Centre climbing wall for Club use and the importance of mountain etiquette, after which the meeting was closed and dinner was served.
After dinner the President's speech ran through the events of the year. The Club ran a number of successful trips and events in 2007, most of which have been written up in last year's Journal.
Dan then presented the following awards:
Best Trip: Claire White, for Slovenia.
Absolute Altitude Award: Simon Pike.
Cumulative Altitude Award: Sue James.
Navigation Award: Keyna Garner, for some interesting summer walks...
Mountaineering Achievement: Bob Hotchkis, for leading Puig de Campana in Spain.
Most Trips Award (for most meets attended during the year): Bruce Wilson, again - once more and we'll have to name the award after him...
Most Committed Climber: Callum Ings, for all the time he’s put in at the Waterside Centre.
The Gordon Ramsay Award (for amazing cuisine on a Club trip): Martin Butler, for the bunny rabbit paella at Black Sail.
The Escapology Award: Maggie Russell, for falling out of bed numerous times on Club trips.
The evening continued with music and a slide show of some of the year's photos.
18-20 Jan - Cader Idris
Present: Andy M (organiser), Rhoda, Sarah, Annie, Jarca, Maika, Dave H, Simon P, Marion, Martin L, Pam, Si, Bruce, Andy Mc, Lee, Mike, Gaby
Location: Plas Isa, Dolgellau
Peaks: Cader Idris (893m)
The first trip of the year took us along numerous winding Welsh A roads, through one unexpected diversion and finally saw us in the small town of Dolgellau, over which the mountain of Cader Idris looms. Until the accommodation fell through we were supposed to be in the Brecons, a little closer to home, but nobody really minded the extra distance when we saw the luxurious bunkhouse with its pool table, comfortable sofas and even a potential bouldering wall in the top bedroom. Unfortunately not all of the furniture was as robust as it could be, as Gaby found out when she sat on a kitchen chair. Friday night passed swiftly with a few drinks, the beginnings of a pool tournament, and discussions about the possible routes for Saturday.
On Saturday we departed just after 9am, once Lee had joined us, and drove to the car park at Ty Nant. From there we walked partway up the Pony Path then cut across eastwards towards Llyn y Gadair. At that point, Andy and Andy left the group to take the more technical route up Cwyfrwy Arete. However, as the weather clagged in they missed the start, and ended up on a less technical scramble up to the summit plateau.
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The rest of us battled our way up some interminable scree in rapidly worsening weather. Mike, in his bright yellow waterproof, proved to be a very useful beacon in showing us the correct route, although we weren't too sure about his novel way of "venting" his waterproof trousers. Once we reached the summit plateau we had lunch in the shelter, and then climbed up the short distance to the actual peak, where we met up with Andy and Andy again. The route down was on the Pony Path, and we made such good time that we were back in Dolgellau to dry out by 3.30pm. This gave some people a chance to wander around the town and perhaps have a sojourn in a coffee shop (sorry, Rhoda and Marion, for eating all the cake).
In the evening, large amounts of wine were dumped in a saucepan and heated (who says mulled wine has to be limited to Christmas?), and Andy M served up a very well-received spaghetti bolognaise, followed by apple crumble courtesy of Marion and Rhoda. The pool tournament continued with standards ranging from flukily brilliant to woeful, often from the same person, and Si claimed a slightly dubious victory at the end of the night.
On Sunday morning the weather was still wet. Undaunted, Andy M, Mike, Pam and Martin went off for a couple of hours' mountain biking at Coed-y-Brenin - they did the 20km MBR circuit, which Andy described as "similar to the North Sea, but with trees". Special mention has to be made of Andy's extremely dodgy-looking eyewear. Gaby, Si, Sarah, Rhoda, Jarca and Annie also went to Coed-y-Brenin, and completed the Waterfalls and Goldmines walk - although it was suspected that some of the waterfalls were a bit unscheduled. Meanwhile Dave, Maika, Simon and Marion went to Barmouth and walked around the estuary.
1-3 February - North Wales
Present: Keyna (organiser), Shaun, Si, Ali, Andy M, Alan, Sarah, Bruce, Dave W, Paula, Bob, Rhoda, Tarinee
Location: Swallow Falls YH/Hotel
Peaks: Tryfan (915m), Y Garn (947m), Foel Goch (831m)
This was a return to Swallow Falls, just outside Betws-y-Coed – most of us were in the youth hostel, with two people choosing to upgrade to the hotel (which at least lessened the snoring in the bunk room!). We congregated in the bar on Friday evening, with Dave and Paula just making it in for last orders. There was plenty of debate about plans for the next day, with Plan A (from Pen-y-Pass up to the Glyder ridge pass and then to Glyder Fawr) deemed too ambitious based on the weather forecast. As the evening wore on, suggestions were made for Plan B, C, D...
Nevertheless, on Saturday we were all ready to go at 8.45am. Si, Ali and Andy set off on their own chosen route: up Tryfan and onto Bristly Ridge. They managed the first part, but not the second: the "fresh and breezy weather" put paid to Bristly Ridge.
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The rest of us parked at Ogwen Cottage (this was Plan D, or possibly E, maybe?) and took the path past Llyn Idwel up to the Devil’s Kitchen – a route which Alan has done "about 95 times", so we let him go first. The path was quite icy underfoot in places, and as we gained height that turned to snow. We then headed north-west up Y Garn; when we reached the summit the sun made a brief appearance and gave us some impressive views across to Tryfan and Snowdon. Unfortunately the good weather was short-lived: as we reached the top of Foel Goch the snow started to threaten. Some debate then ensued as to the best way down: Dave, Bob and Bruce decided on the route less travelled from Foel Goch, which was apparently "interesting" in places but got them back to the car park a good hour before the rest of us. The remaining group went for the more defined path on the map, which meant heading halfway back up the north side of Y Garn again, this time with the accompaniment of stinging snow showers and a distinctly stiff breeze. The downwards route was a new departure for Alan, and more of a clamber to begin with, often requiring five points of contact (waterproof trousers make a very handy sledge on packed snow…). Once out of the wind and past the most difficult part, we had a late lunch stop, at which point Rhoda realised that Bob was carrying all her food. Fortunately Keyna always packs enough sandwiches to feed a small army and there were also chocolate rations on offer. The path eventually took us around the other side of Llyn Idwel and back to the car park to meet the others.
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The walk was, of course, perfectly timed for Alan, Si and other interested people to get into the bar at Swallow Falls and watch England play Wales in the rugby. Maybe it was a good thing that Wales won (says this partially-Welsh author!), because it made for a happy chef, and good food in the evening. Once again, we got a bit of a pool tournament going – mixed doubles this time, and Si and Ali were eventually victorious. It wasn't a late night for anyone - Bruce started the trend by going to bed at 9.30pm, and an hour later most people were pleading extreme tiredness and an excess of alcohol.
On Sunday, most people took up Andy's suggestion of a visit to the slate mines near Llanberis. Parking near Llanberis Castle, the group walked up to a viewpoint above the the town past some old tramway workings and dilapidated barracks (which housed the quarry workers). From the viewpoint we followed the main footpath through the quarries, breaking off at different points to explore. The first spot we visited was "Dali's Hole", a flooded hole containing bleached white trees. Very surreal although sadly the wind was disturbing the surface of the water too much to see them this time. We didn't bother going into "Australia" but headed for "California" instead which is reached by going through two tunnels and emerges in a Doctor Who-type landscape and the whole quarry resonates with the hum from the power station buried beneath the quarries. We rejoined the path and passed Twll Mawr (Big Hole) before going up one of the inclines on the Great Wall of Llanberis. Access to the next quarry meant sliding down a scree slope holding on to a cast iron water main (ah, busman's holiday for Andy!). Here there was on old building full of old machinery and some tunnels to explore. Two rusty ladders took Keyna, Tarinee and Andy down to a lower level and some more tunnels where we could see the even rustier ladders leading to "The Lost World" and most likely dinosaurs... Then it was back to Llanberis for tea and cake and to catch Bob and Rhoda tackling the north side of Llanberis High Street.
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A great weekend, which will probably be remembered by those in the main bunk room for Alan’s culinary habits – real men do eat quiche, and lots of it, often accompanied by Marmite sandwiches...
22-24 February - Lake District
Present: Richard S (organiser), Martin B, Martin L, Sarah, Maggie, Claire, Alan, Bruce, Andy, Lee, Jarca, Adriana, Tarinee, Anthony, Simon H, Simon P
Location: Coppermines Hut, above Coniston
This was a popular trip, so much so that at one point Richard's accountancy skills failed him and he had 17 people booked into a hut sleeping 16. Fortunately for him, illness saved him having to make the ultimate sacrifice (ahem) and give up his own place. The early arrivals got the fires going and by late evening the common room was quite cosy, with open bottles a-plenty and several discussions about plans for Saturday. For the majority, an excursion to the Langdales seemed to be the popular option...
... and then the early risers (surely not on an NMC trip?) on Saturday morning contemplated the lashing wind and rain. After a democratic show of hands at the breakfast table, suddenly Claire, Sarah and Maggie's low-level walk proved a lot more popular. Undaunted, Richard, the two Martins and Adriana still set off for Little Langdale and a good walk followed by a few pints of OP.
The main group walked down the main track to Coniston and followed the Cumbria Way along Coniston Water. From there they cut across through woods and open access land to Torver where they stopped at a pub named the Wilson Arms (appropriate, since Bruce was in the lead at that point). After a pint, there was a choice of routes back to the hut: some chose the higher option towards the Old Man of Coniston, and others went for the less windy route which eventually dropped them down on the other side of the river from the hut.
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Meanwhile, by 8am Lee and Andy were ready to go and first out the door. The weather wasn't going to thwart plans and rucksacks bulging with climbing gear were eagerly shouldered. From the bunkhouse they joined the Walna Scar Road, an old drovers road connecting Coniston with the Dunnerdale valley. After a couple of miles they cut across country towards Goat Water and the base of Dow Crag. By this time the rain had ceased but visibility was poor - the cliff didn't come into sight until they were almost upon it.
Water streamed down the rock and the first choice route was quickly discounted. The second choice route was then the challenge for the day - the classic Giant's Crawl (450ft, Diff, ***, "inescapable and desperate in poor conditions" according to the guide). With wet rock, climbing in walking boots added an extra element to the day's excitement. Andy started off and then leads were swapped for each pitch. On each pitch the belayer got incredibly cold and climbing in wet gloves did nothing to help warm the fingers. Lee showed a steady head on the 'narrows' where the easy line got squeezed between the steeper rock above and below. Higher still Andy used a full repertoire of expletives to overcome a particularly greasy awkward corner. After almost seven hours on the route they emerged on the summit plateau in a howling gale. Climbing gear was removed and dumped in the 'sacs and a last swig of peppermint was had before heading back down to the Walna Scar Road and the way back to the bunkhouse. After a gruelling 11 hours on the go in the cold and wet they got back to the bunkhouse at 7pm to be greeted with the sight of everyone sat round the table and dinner being served - perfect timing.
Dinner, courtesy of Anthony, was two different types of pasta which was eagerly devoured. This was followed by dessert, apple pie sourced by Sarah and Maggie from (where else?) the Apple Pie cafe in Ambleside. Later on, there was the unexpected bonus of unwanted birthday cake from members of the Barrow Mountaineering Club who were staying in the members' section of the hut - especially apt as it was actually Sarah's birthday.
Sunday morning was another fairly early start for Lee and Andy, who went to Grizedale Forest to take on the North Face mountain bike trail, a purpose built trail of about 19km. This was the perfect antidote to the previous day as the sun shone down for the couple of hours they were out. With a slightly later start, the main body of the group did an ascent of the Old Man of Coniston before heading south again. Bruce, Alan, Maggie and Sarah drove to Grasmere and walked up Helm Crag, also getting some unexpected sunshine.
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7-9 March - Dartmoor
Present: Claire (organiser), Alan, Si, Bruce, Maika, Sarah, Adriana, Belinda, Richard N
Location: Runnage Farm bunkhouse, Postbridge
Our accommodation for the weekend was in the relatively luxurious centrally heated Granary Bunkhouse at Runnage Farm near Postbridge. With a fairly traffic-free journey down the A303, it meant most of us could sample the food and beer on offer at the local pub in Postbridge, before settling down to a night of good conversation and good wine (and the usual suspect liqueur) round the large farmhouse table in the bunkhouse living room (with the odd shriek coming from the opposite barn where a group of teachers appeared to be having a fancy dress party). The only outrageous activity we indulged in was marking up our OS maps with Saturday's route, using the highlighter pen that Bruce had thoughtfully brought along.
Saturday, as expected, dawned rather wet and gloomy, but we were raring to go with our highlighted maps at the ready. Our starting point was from the village of Widecombe in the Moor, from where we headed up onto Hamel Down and huddled in a medieval hut at the ancient site of Grimspound for a flask of coffee. Then it was another huddle near Jay's Grave for lunch, after which we passed by a giant's chair, (yes, seriously) and headed up to Hound Tor for a scramble. Haytor was next, followed by Saddle Tor and Rippon Tor, before the rain and bogs got the better of us and we retreated at speed back along the road to the pub in Widecombe for hot drinks and a warm by the fire. There was much talk in the pub about the impending "bomb" of a storm which was due to hit the West Country late Sunday, and we made a mental note to not linger around too long the next day.
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Back at the bunkhouse, after hot showers, we indulged in a rather sumptuous meal, courtesy of Sarah and Claire who had catered for the expected 12 rather than the final 9. Lasagne of both the meat and veg variety, salad and garlic bread were devoured, followed by a trio of puddings as nobody seemed able to choose just one. We just couldn't find room though for Richard's large marrow.
An unexpected sunny start to Sunday, saw us setting off across fields and bogs with a rather ominous black cloud heading towards us. After the fastest gear faff ever, the rest of our walk was accompanied by a mix of torrential downpours, and glorious sunny intervals. All 9 braved the huge stepping stones at Laughter Hole over the raging East Dart River. Then after a brief lunch stop during one of the sunny spells, it was back to Postbridge for cream teas all round, before setting off for the journey home to beat the arrival of the "bomb".
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4-6 April - Wales
Present: Keyna (organiser), Shaun, Alan, Claire, Sarah, Maggie, Adriana, Anthony, Andrea, Tarinee
Location: Brecon YH
Putting an extra post-Easter trip in the calendar turned out to be a good idea: ten of us met up in the village of Groesffordd, making our way to the local pub shortly after bagging our beds in the hostel (no bunks, for once, to the relief of some). A few quiet drinks later, we made our way back along the pitch-black lane for a nice early night with no further alcohol. Honest.
Saturday's walk was scheduled to start at 8.45am SHARP, and as none of us wanted to argue with Keyna it was only shortly after that time when we were in the cars and ready to go. The walk started at Talybont reservoir and took us straight up from the road through fields of newborn lambs to the ridge approximately 650m above the reservoir. Although there were a few threatening moments, the weather pretty much held up as we walked along the ridge and past the waterfalls near Allt Forgan before having lunch near Blaen-y-Glyn. Once on the other side of the reservoir the plan was to drop down and pick up the Taff Trail through the forest: based on her map, Keyna decided to take a direct route through recently-felled trees and deep mud - and rather like the sheep we'd encountered earlier, some of us followed her. Kudos to Shaun, Maggie and Alan who decided to follow the physical path in front of them rather than the theoretical one from the Ordnance Survey, and reached the trail before the rest of us. The total walk was 14.5 miles, and Alan's mission for the day (which he did choose to accept) was to get Maggie round the whole walk. He considered it a failure when she didn't walk the last half mile to the cars, waiting at the bridge instead for us to pick her up.
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On Saturday evening it was back to the local pub. Although the dessert menu looked fantastic, the sheer volume of food that preceded it meant we never got that far. Only one person managed the 18oz T-bone steak; no need to mention his name. A different person managed to fall into a hole on the walk back to the hostel; we shan't mention her name, either...
On Sunday we woke up to the news that it had snowed heavily. In Newbury. All the local hills had to show for themselves was a faint dusting of white on the tops. Shaun went off biking, and the rest of us drove to a car park just south of Talgarth for a walk on the western edge of the Black Mountains. This was another ridge walk, along Y Grib (literal translation: The Ridge), which gave us great views of where we were going and where we'd been. That was right up until, after we'd bagged Pen y Manllwyn and the highest point of the walk at Waun Fach (811m), we reached Pen Trumau (707m)... and the blizzard came in. Keyna had to get the compass out to navigate us off the top, although once we were pointing in the right direction it was fairly easy to locate the correct path. We never did find out why there was a tent pitched near the top of Pen Trumau. On arriving back at the cars after 7.5 miles, some went to the pub before setting off for home to find all of the snow had melted.
18-20 April - Dorset
Present: Bob (organiser), Rhoda, Annie, Julie & sprogs (Tom, Ed, Amy)
Despite a report of extremely poor weather conditions before this trip, which seemed to put many people off, the faithful were indeed rewarded!
Friday saw all of three people meet at Tom’s Field. The evening weather was calm and warm for April but we opted for an Indian meal nearby as it was soon dark after we had put the tents up.
Saturday - The smooth guide was employed early that day, so that Annie and Rhoda who walked from the campsite east toward Swanage managed to meet up with all other parties at the café at Durlston Head at the same time from three different directions! The main activity of the day was pleasant coastal and sea cliff walking. The gorse was in full petal, scenting the air with its coconut-like smell; the mud was also in full petal sticking like glue. The team went sea bird spotting at one great viewpoint, spotting gannets, guillemots and a peregrine. We also saw one of the first swifts of the year arriving at the mainland.
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Later on Bob made a huge meal, managing to use up an entirely new canister of gas to create 'Chilli con Carne a la Bob'. Luckily for him it was delicious. The 'Julies' opted for 'fish and chips al fresco' using an array of camp seating equipment including booster seats and skateboards!
On Sunday lovely weather forced a ridge walk with lovely views of Poole harbour. We walked toward Corfe with time for a quick look at Corfe's distorted Castle and then a good pub lunch was eaten by all. We took a steam train ride back to where we started from and only then did a small shower put an end to any thought of climbing. The sun did come out again before we left for home though. Great company made it a great first camping trip of the year.
2-5 May - Wye Valley
Present: Dave H (organiser), Alan, Claire, Adriana, Keyna, Shaun, Joanne, Steve L, Maggie, Simon H, Richard N, Nicola, Richard S, Fiona, Martin J, Cynthia, Shannon
No report (yet), but you can make one up with the assistance of Claire's photos.
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23-26 May - North Pennines
Present: Claire (organiser), Alan, Sarah, Adriana, Paula, Maika, Dave H, Andrea, Keyna, Ange, Mick, and Ayla
For a bank holiday weekend it wasn't a bad haul up the M6, almost arriving at the campsite before darkness. For a change, instead of turning left off the M6 in Cumbria and heading for the Lakes, we turned right, spending the weekend at a small friendly campsite in the quaint village of Dufton, ideally located for walks into the high Pennines. What was noticeable on our arrival though was the rather blustery wind, which made putting up some of the larger tents rather challenging.
The wind was still present in the morning, and Dave had already dismantled his tent, not trusting its durability a second longer after a rather sleepless night. This resulted in an accommodation reshuffle before setting off on our long 18 mile walk for the day.
The wind didn't let up, as we followed the Pennine Way from Dufton up Great Dun Fell (848m), Little Dun Fell (842m) and the high point of the Pennines, Cross Fell (893m). We found shelter along the way ranging from derelict farmhouses, stone walls, and purpose built shelters. The views were good though, and no rain! Our route back took us through farmland and villages, mostly out the wind by now, but alas no tea or icecream shops or pubs.
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A mammoth BBQ session followed, complete with champagne to celebrate Andrea's birthday, although most of it ended up showering her. Adriana won the "most sausages on one plate" prize. We then retired to Mick & Ange's huge tent, where most people cuddled up and fell asleep.
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A slightly later start on Sunday, and our first challenge was to get up Dufton Pike (481m) in gale force winds. Only Alan, Dave, Keyna and Maika made it to the summit - for most it was 1 step forward, 3 steps back, or, in Adriana's case just roll backwards then crawl along on all fours. (For incontrovertible proof, just take a look at the short video below. Sound required for the best effect.)
After that entertainment, it was a case of battling on against the wind up the quarry track, where we eventually took shelter in a gravel store. From there the route was surprisingly pleasant (i.e. out of the wind) following a small beck to the magnificent High Cup Nick. Yes, it was windy, but the view was amazing.
The evening was spent in the local pub, The Stag Inn, before retiring to Sarah's tent for a bottle of Cointreau. Ayla then managed to scream the campsite down, and wake all the local dogs, but luckily most of us were too tired to be bothered.
On Monday, it seemed that the wind had finally passed, so taking the tents down was a doddle - and they were bone dry. Some of us then headed off to the Howgill Fells for a short walk before heading home. However, after climbing to the top of Cautley Spout, we discovered the wind had not at all passed. On the top of the Howgills it was the strongest we'd experienced all weekend. We took shelter in a ditch, and then decided to go for the summit - only to battle our way up one hill to discover the true summit was in the opposite direction. We eventually bagged The Calf (676m) and headed down as quickly as possible, back to the waterfall, and out of the wind. And amazingly enough, another traffic free journey back to Newbury, where it had rained most of the weekend!
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More photos are available here.
24-28 May - Fontainebleau
Present: Julie (organiser) and family, Bob, Rhoda, Paul and Tao, Maggie, Steve C, Nathan, Cliff
A fortuitous coincidental mass booking onto the same ferry on Saturday morning got the proceedings off to a jolly start, and we arrived at La Musardiere to find Steve C and Nathan had bagged us a better spot than last year (no doorstep lake!). New tents and new super tarp were erected. Steve and Nathan had already done some climbing having arrived in the early hours. Good job they did because the opportunities were to be limited...
Croissants arrived on schedule at the campsite by van as they have done every year since we have been to this campsite, setting us up for the day ahead. This first full day (Sunday) saw us all getting hot and sweaty in the forest. We met up with Steve W, Lee and Heather (staying in a gite) to do some serious sandstone bouldering. Superb weather took us to climb at Diplodocus area and we then moved to another area close by. This saw many a male shirt removed with the men getting all macho as the bouldering reached new heights. The day was rounded off by a beer in the café at the other end of Mille la Foret (the main town). Even Maggie felt the need for a beer! Pizza was then consumed by some back at the campsite under the tarp along with delicious cakes from the patisserie. Paul cooked up a storm on his camp kitchen, which didn't seem to take as long as usual. Light rain rounded off the evening.
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Monday dawned a bit overcast and the bouldering was sporadic and unsatisfying, partly due to choosing a crap area. The walk into the forest did produce some singing nightingales (including a sighting) and 6-8 red squirrels running about through the trees. We moved on pretty rapidly as we realised the bouldering was mossy and unsuitable, so we moved the cars to a more familiar climbing spot that we had found the year before. A small amount of bouldering puzzles were bagged but then light drizzle eventually chased us to the local bar 'Backgammon'. Cliff, Rhoda and Bob walked back to the campsite finding a beautiful butterfly orchid in the forest, as well as spotting a cuckoo in flight while looking over the forest and the memorial cross to the Resistance. Back at the campsite the new tarp and Nathan's new mess tent really came into their own (after a huge shopping trip to Decathlon and the "supermarché"). Hot communal BBQ action followed, courtesy of William's disposable BBQs and bargain BBQ meat packs. The evening was complete with Petanque (when in Rome as they say) and Poi training from Nathan (who sadly did not bring the unicycle, although there was precious little else he could not suddenly produce from the back of his massive vehicle. Who else carries a whole box of lollipops for instance?)
Tuesday limped in with shocking weather – rain! Those without offspring (Cliff, Bob, Rhoda, Nathan, Steve C) headed to Paris for some culture, although because the museum queues were so long they opted instead for a quick jaunt up the Eiffel Tower to the very top. 'Eiffel' bouldering did occur at one point. The parents amongst us and Maggie, who seemed to be on some sort of busman's holiday, quickly discovered that any form of wet weather entertainment including museums, swimming pools, cinemas and castles were very firmly "fermé" on a Tuesday. A damp traipse around the grounds of Fontainebleau Chateau was the most we could muster. All was saved however by a group night out in Milly consisting mainly of jokes about red wine at Maggie's expense (sorry Maggie). Meanwhile, back at the campsite a spectacular electric storm was enjoyed from the safety of the tarp followed by a damp night – Paul's massive new tent leaked, Bob and Rhoda retreated to the car for the night, but in a pretty impressive display of rainproof fabulousness, we are pleased to report that the Quecha pop up tents were marvellous and dry – despite sitting on a repeat of last year's campsite lake caused by the flash flood. By morning it was as if the storm had never happened as the heat had dried most of the puddles.
Steve and Nathan had to leave early Wednesday morning, which was a shame as the sun shone that afternoon and more climbing was done. Following that, fond farewells were said to Bob, Rhoda and Cliff before Julie, William, Paul, Maggie and the kids headed north to round off the week in... a gite! With a roof and everything!
So folks, there we were again for the fourth year running, and still not sick of it! Some of us are even planning on returning in September. The group love affair with 'Font' continues strong – but the gites are already booked for next year. Thanks Steve, Lee and Heather for the idea!
13-15 June - Peak District
Present: Bob (organiser), Rhoda, Julie, Paul, Steve C, Nathan, Alex, Ian, Si, Ali, Cliff, Simon H, and friends Pam and Steve
Most arrived on the Friday night and proceeded to stay up far too late thanks to Pam's camper van which allowed sitting up into the wee hours when the cold would normally have driven even the hardiest campers into their sleeping bags at a far more sensible time.
Julie therefore arrived early Saturday all ready and raring to go, only to be greeted by boggy-eyed climbers crawling out of tents and complaining about their heads.
"What better remedy, dear friends, than a greasy breakfast and pints of coffee at the Grindleford Station Caff?"
Some of us were introduced for the first time to this hallowed institution where a request for mushrooms often offends and a timid plea for a variation to the full breakfast could result in an instant ban. Thus fortified and unable to put it off any longer, we headed for Stanage in brilliant sunshine, meeting Cliff driving aimlessly round in his low key AA car in the hope of bumping into us. The sun shone just long enough for us to get all sweaty carrying the gear up to the base of the edge – and then the heavens opened. Paul's poncho was amusing but practical as we tried to shelter under the rocks and failed miserably. We were laughing on the other side of our faces once we were wet through.
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What do climbers do when the weather is impecunious? Why, climb of course! And so the first leads were begun on wet rock with Bob, Julie, Steve C and Paul leading the others up to a bone freezing summit where the wind whipped our Amazon Cracks. It did get better though, and Si got his first trad lead in before we headed to the pub late in the day to drink real ale and afterwards back to camp for a BBQ. Here the wildly varying culinary aspirations of the various members of the group became apparent. Nathan and Alex had bought the cheapest sausages known to man which dripped their 95% fat content causing massive flames and eye watering amounts of smoke. Paul went for yet another of his "Let's do things properly even if it does mean we get to eat at midnight" jobs (folks, you should have seen the size of his veggie kebabs!). The two "non meat eaters" opted for Linda McCartney's cardboard – literally, cardboard! Not as late to bed this time, due to sheer exhaustion and too many to fit in the camper van.
Sunday was spent at Froggatt in glorious sunshine, and many personal achievements were recorded. Julie reassured herself that she hasn't in fact gone completely off the boil (take note Andy Miles) by leading Heather Wall; Steve C led his first severe (Green Gut); and Paul took Steve out of his comfort zone on Valkyrie along with Si. Bob tackled Tody's Wall with its ever-amusing first belly moves, followed by Steve, Rhoda and Pam. Rhoda also attempted to make parasols fashionable again whilst belaying, and Ali very obligingly repeatedly supplied Julie with a crucial piece of forgotten equipment, forgetting herself that she would need it if she was to follow up the route. Alex, who was on his first ever climbing trip, declared that he would be returning for more and Si and Ali will be amongst the leaders next time. Nathan stuck to bouldering (at least I think that's why he carted that ruddy great bouldering mat all the way to the crag), Cliff stuck to gentle strolls, and Simon H opted to walk from the campsite to Froggatt. He hadn't actually arrived by the time most of us had to leave, but I presume he was eventually located and is not still wandering around Calver. Top trip.
27-29 June - Rhinogs, Southern Snowdonia
Present: Claire (organiser), Alan, Sarah, Bruce, Simon H, Keyna, Shaun, Pam, Martin L, Pokey, Annie, Isobel, Dan, Beckie, Maisie, Ange, Mick, and Ayla
It seems to be becoming the norm, that club weekends in mid summer turn out to be rather wet affairs, particularly if Wales is involved. Our weekend in the Rhinog mountains of Southern Snowdonia was no exception.
The instructions and signposting for the Nantcol Waterfalls campsite left a lot to be desired for some club members who spent hours touring the back roads of the Rhinogs in the thick mist (don’t believe the satnav), but everyone eventually found their way by midnight, arriving to the welcome sight of a roaring log fire (Pokey having secured the best spot by a large fire pit earlier that day) and the flow of alcohol. The campsite is in an idyllic setting by the river, but having recently become a registered campsite there are now some important rules to follow – no groups, no chainsaws, and no kids on ATV’s!
On Saturday morning the walkers set off up the Nantcol Valley to conquer some Rhinog hills. The cloud level was low, but there was just that tantalising glimpse of sunlight every now and again for the optimists to predict a good day. The rather bold looking footpath shown on the map taking us up the valley from the campsite turned out to be an unmarked route through a bog, so when we finally started the walk proper up Rhinog Fach, most of us had wet, cold feet. It wasn’t long before we were in the cloud, and that’s how it stayed for the rest of the day, with much map and compass work required. We climbed our way up Rhinog Fach boldly led by Alan, but although we took a group photo on the top, we couldn’t be sure it really was! The wind then kicked in during our descent to cheer us up further, and we hardly noticed the beautiful Llyn Hywel through the thick cloud. After the top of Y Llethr we decided to cut the intended route short and headed instead up Moelfre. We didn’t even stop at the summit, our thoughts now firmly on getting out of the cloud and back to the campfire. The direct route down involved some wall traversing, on which Alan appreciated a helping hand from Bruce (Alan, our optimist, was not having a good day it must be noted). We arrived back at the campsite by 7pm, after what seemed to have been an epic day, but only 12 miles had been covered.
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The families had chosen a far better option, walking in the valley below the cloud level, and even enjoying some sunshine at Barmouth beach.
The evening was one long BBQ extravaganza, and the campfire and alcohol kept many going until gone 2am.
Unfortunately, the early morning drizzle on Sunday turned into heavy rain by mid morning, so the most anyone did was visit the campsite waterfall. Another foray into the hills just did not appeal. However, Alan and Claire completed a tour of the campsites in the area getting ideas for a future club trip – the Rhinogs are unfinished business!
25-27 July - Lake District
Present: Richard S (organiser), Martin B, Olga, Martin L, Pam, Paula, Sarah, Bruce
Location: Wythmoor Farm camping barn, near Kendal
For once, the weather forecast for a weekend was actually looking reasonable, and those who were in the Lakes early on Friday were able to take advantage of the barn's BBQ area and the gentle sounds of the countryside (underpinned by the muted roar of the M6 in the distance). By the time everyone else made their way down confusing country lanes in the dark, however, the thunderstorm had kicked in and we were quite grateful for the comfy sofas (yes, really) in the very well-appointed barn.
Saturday dawned cloudy, and as our planned walk for the day progressed, we were able to determine the exact level of the cloud base: every time we passed 700m to bag a peak during the morning, we lost any chance of a decent view. The walk was the classic Kentmere Horseshoe in a clockwise direction, a route that (as suggested) starts and ends in the small village of Kentmere and takes in the peaks of Yoke (706m), Ill Bell (757m), Froswick (720m), Thornthwaite Crag (784m), Mardale Ill Bell (760m), Harter Fell (778m) and Kentmere Pike (730m). We detoured (deliberately!) after Thornthwaite to bag High Street (828m), which is where the sun first started to struggle through: by the time we reached Nan Bield Pass the weather had improved considerably and we had excellent views of Haweswater. The final descent from Kentmere Pike to Green Quarter via Sadgill was very warm and on the arduous side, and we were all very glad of a pint in Staveley on the way back to the barn.
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On Saturday evening the weather stayed fine, and everyone cooked BBQ food and drank extremely cold beer and wine (thanks to a kitchen sink full of ice, acquired from the supermarket in Kendal). For the first time this year, there was no need for down jackets when sitting outside until midnight. Nobody stayed up too late as we were all tired after the walk, and Martin B's snoring then rocked the barn's rafters in the small hours of the morning.
On Sunday, which was an even warmer day, the group dispersed to various different activities. Martin and Pam, who were staying in the Lakes for an extra few days, set off further into the Lakes for a walk. Bruce, Sarah and Paula crossed the M6 to the Howgills and another attempt on Cautley Spout, which was a lot less windy than May.
8-10 August - Southern Sandstone
Present: Andy M (organiser), Zoe, Mike, Gaby, Si
Forecasts of bad weather were wildly exaggerated and the few who made it down to Harrisons Rocks were treated to typical summer weather. Saturday started with glorious sunshine...then by lunchtime, coinciding with Mike and Gaby's arrival, it rained. However, in between the (very slight) showers plenty of climbing was done. Gaby perfected a new climbing move she's been working on which she called the slug. A move which involved much wriggling to make (sometimes) upward progress on the holdless cracks and chimneys. Elegance may have been sacrificed in the name of progress, but she did make it to the top! Top marks to Si for getting up a route called Pelmet which gets an English tech grade of 5b and is quite frankly desperate if you're short and probably a grade harder.
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Heavy rain late afternoon forced an early retreat to the pub, and despite several pints of good old Kentish Ale, the deluge and high winds kept waking us up throughout the night. However, Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny with not a cloud to be seen in a flawless blue sky. As there were only a few of us (where were the other climbers? Sandstone too hard for you?), we packed away the climbing gear and headed over to Bedgebury Pinetum. Andy, Mike and Si raced, jumped and crashed round the mountain bike course there and Zoe and Gaby went for a walk in search of the "Old Man of Kent" (no, not me!). Mike decided to demonstrate a jump, and did that perfectly, too - but had not taken the slippery clay into account for a somewhat less than perfect landing. But that's what bike helmets were invented for. Tea and cake finished of the day nicely.
22-25 August - Pembrokeshire
Present: Andrew (organiser), Kate, Keyna, Shaun, Rhoda, Sarah, Bob, Maggie, Simon P
We arrived in Marloes on a clear evening, thankful that the rain which plagued most of August had retreated. However, the campsite was unfortunately suffering the effects of yes, being rained on for most of August. "You see, I bring you to all the best places," remarked Andrew as we left the cars in the village, squelched across the waterlogged field and managed to find a puddle-free space to put up the tents. Four of the group were joining us on Saturday, and the rest squashed into Rhoda's porch for a beer or two before bed.
There was, as usual, some debate about the start time for Saturday's walk. Simon's request for 9am and Rhoda's suggestion of 10am made us decree a compromise of 9.30 - although it was nearer 10 by the time we set out from the campsite to walk to the coastal path. We turned left, and made our way around the Marloes peninsula with its views of Skomer Island (and a couple of seals) from the end. The path itself wasn't as rugged as some coastal stretches and we made good time to cut across to Dale for a visit to the pub and an optional ice cream. The group then split: Rhoda and Kate walked back to the campsite while Andrew, Simon and Sarah went down to the southernmost point of the peninsula at St Ann's Head, and then back across the disused airfield, making their walk 16 miles in total and in the shape of a rather lopsided figure eight.
Meanwhile, Keyna and Shaun had arrived at the campsite and set off on a bike ride up to St David's and beyond. It was between St David's and Fishguard when Keyna's bike basically fell apart - it was fortunate for her that Rhoda was almost back in Marloes and able to embark on a rescue mission. She eventually located Keyna sheltering in a coal shed.
As the day went on, the weather started to look more ominous, and by the evening the wind had picked up and squalls of rain kept passing over the campsite. Bob and Maggie didn't look too impressed when they arrived; apparently it had been sunny in Newbury. Despite the conditions, we cooked at the site (Sarah getting her barbecue going through sheer bloody-mindedness) and then retreated to the pub as the rain got worse. It was a relatively quiet evening, and not just because Maggie had lost her voice.
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Sunday dawned clearer, although the field
was now making a bid for full quagmire status. Andrew, Simon, Keyna,
Shaun and Sarah drove to Broad Haven and walked back to the campsite
from there, a 10-mile stretch of coastal path. Rhoda, Bob and Maggie
went on a boat trip walk around Skomer
Island, which happened to involve a boat ride to get there. In the
evening we ate in the pub, which had a surprising variety of exotic
fish (and, bizarrely, frog's legs) on the menu, and admired some of the
accidental sunburn from the weekend - or perhaps it was wind burn. Some
people then chose to drive home rather than camp for another night.
Those that remained on Monday morning - Rhoda, Bob, Maggie and Sarah - drove to nearby St Ishmael's and walked for a couple of hours, discovering a small hidden church and the remnants of old fortifications along the coast. After a picnic in the grounds of the church, trying to finish off the vast amount of food Bob had brought for the weekend, we set off for home. It was noticeable that when we crossed the Severn Bridge, the cloud that we'd been under for most of the weekend gave way to clear blue skies, practically in a straight line following the border. Thanks, Wales!
4-7 Sept - Ireland
Present: Marion (organiser), Mark, Joanne, Steve L, Ian, Richard N, Sarah, Belinda, Will, Rhoda, Bob, Dave H, Nicola
Location: Kippure Estate, County Wicklow
The majority of the group met up at Heathrow on Thursday evening, for a trouble-free journey to Dublin. Marion and Mark were waiting for us at the airport, and once we'd picked up the hire cars we set off for the Wicklow mountains. A leisurely pub stop en route meant it was gone midnight by the time we reached our accommodation, two very nice self-catering houses which were positively luxurious for an NMC trip.
We were very glad of the shelter on Friday morning: when we saw the weather, the general consensus was "Thank God we're not camping". Apparently there was a mountain view from the estate, but all we could see was a large amount of cloud, even greater amounts of rain, and the raging torrents of the Liffey. Nevertheless, we got ourselves into the waterproofs and out of the house, and went to tackle the challenges of Russborough, with the assistance of a guide for the tricky parts. After a much-needed stop for sustenance, the return route turned out to be blocked by the aforementioned raging torrents, which meant a considerable detour (just the 10km or so).
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Later in the day we drove back into Dublin, for dinner, a few drinks, and the opportunity to play tourist. Some visited the Guinness brewery and Dublin Castle, and those who went to see the Dara O'Briain live show learned a lot more about Irish culture, particularly the delights of the Tayto crisp. The journey back, in unrelentingly lousy weather, was a challenge for the designated drivers, especially Belinda who saw rather more of Dublin's suburbs than she wanted.
Saturday morning was still wet, but at least the mountains were beginning to show themselves. Nicola remained resolutely positive that it would clear up, and her optimism seemed to be paying off as we reached Glendalough for a 10km circuit. Nonetheless, we all started out in full waterproofs - Bob staked a claim for the Sartorial Elegance award with his orange jacket, green trousers and scarlet gaiters making him look like a mixed-up traffic light. The walk started along the old miners' track through the woods, and then progressed to a climb up the side of a stream (quite a large stream, after all the rain) into the Glenealo Valley by way of a steep path and some scrambling over boulders. Once at the top, the track continued on a boardwalk so we could avoid the peat bogs, and gave us some great views to the surrounding hills. We then returned via the impressive Poulanass waterfall, and warmed ourselves up with a coffee in the local hotel, who seemed happy to fit us in around a wedding reception.
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In the evening we ate at a local Italian restaurant and celebrated Bob's birthday (let's just say his age now begins with a 5 and ends with a zero). Nice meal, although there was some debate over whether some of the wine was a little... faulty. Bob was probably expecting the singing, but was surprised by the cake, which we presented to him in the estate bar later on while gatecrashing our second wedding of the day.
Sunday morning dawned and we could hardly believe we were in the same place: sunshine, mountain views, the gentle flow of the Liffey. We packed up and drove to Howth, north of Dublin, for a coastal walk, fantastic ice cream, some seal-spotting, and plenty of opportunity for Rhoda to use her new camera. It was then an early dinner (fish and chips seemed popular) before going to the airport for that final Guinness for some, and a nasty shock for Richard when he realised he'd booked the flight that arrived at 8.15pm rather than the one that departed at that time. (He got onto the 8.15 flight, but unfortunately not for the price of a pint of Guinness.)
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An excellent trip, which I probably can't do justice to in a few paragraphs. Ireland 2008: ya had to be there...
13 Sept - Day Walk
Present: Richard N (organiser), Mike, Gaby, Shey, Andrew, Simon, Tracy, Keyna
Richard had had the weather specially imported from somewhere where it was still summer, and as we walked in sunshine under a blue sky, jackets, jumpers and trouser legs were soon shed. The going through the forest behind Bedwyn was soft to buoyant in places, and in the sun's warmth, it soon started to feel subtropical. On the valley rim, we had great views over the rolling fields, copses, thatched cottages and riders thundering along effortlessly on bridleways. Crossing a large field, we flushed out one particularly stupid roe deer, which then proceeded to run a half circle around us to the back of the group, found itself confronted with a fence, and then galloped straight past us again the other way, sometimes stopping to look back.
After a short but lively section of the A4, we all started to feel a few hunger pangs, but had to wait a while yet before reaching picturesque Ramsbury where we had some truly massive meals in the Crown And Anchor (although the maritime connection escaped us). Stuffed to the gills, we rolled out of the pub and downhill to Littlecote House hotel, where we had a good look at a lovely Roman mosaic in the grounds, and the arrival of a bride and groom by white wedding helicopter. A final push across the valley and over the ridge dropped us down to Hungerford Marsh in blazing sunshine, for an encounter with a giant fibreglass statue of Morecombe and Wise.
On the way through Hungerford, we were waylaid by the fete, and poor Andrew had to take all his newly bought cake home, as we were all still too stuffed to eat anything. However, not too full to go for a refreshing cup of tea or two in the Tutti Pole, Hungerford's premier olde tea shoppe.
Only on the way home did the reason for the small group became apparent - it was the day of the Newbury Beer Fest!
19-21 Sept - Gower
Present: Rhoda (organiser), Bob, Alan, Claire, Joanne, Steve L, Sarah, Annie, Julie, Bruce, Steve C, Simon H, Belinda, Paul, Si, Ali, Mike, Gaby (and Andy M and Zoe camping nearby)
Location: Rhossili Village Hall bunkhouse
With an extremely promising weather forecast, eighteen of us headed for the Gower peninsula, some meeting up in the pub at Rhossili for a meal. The bunkhouse was new, and furnished mostly from IKEA (even the soap); as is traditional, we had a few quiet drinks and discussed plans for Saturday while waiting for the late arrivals to navigate their way through Swansea.
The main walking group, which comprised 10 people, was up promptly on Saturday morning as the bus to Port Eynon left at 8.45. At 9am sharp they set off from Port Eynon, in glorious sunshine, along the coast back to Rhossili. The route was varied, ranging from narrow paths with a cliffside drop to grassy headlands to scrambling up and down polished rocks to see Culver Hole (allegedly a former smugglers' cave). There was a prolonged lunch stop at Fall Bay, where Mike, Alan, Claire and Bruce bravely flung themselves into the sea, while Rhoda, Sarah and Gaby merely risked a paddle. There was also a game of beach cricket, for which some had more aptitude than others. They then carried on to Worm's Head, where the tides were right for crossing the rocky causeway and Devil's Bridge to the nature reserve.
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Meanwhile, the climbers' day was based around tide times which meant a much more leisurely start. Julie was thankful to Si for "knocking her up" in the morning. Eventually, they did make it down to Fall Bay just as the walkers were leaving. Paul led Valhalla (King Wall), HVS 4c, with Steve C seconding: this was an overhanging start with great moves, leading to the first gear placement 15 feet off the ground. Julie led Ragnarok (HS 4a) with Si and Ali seconding, and Steve led Sweyn (HS 4a) with Paul seconding. Andy M also led a couple of routes, and a successful day was rounded off with a pint or two at the Worm's Head Hotel.
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On Saturday evening Andy and Zoe joined us at the bunkhouse, and everyone participated in the culinary extravaganza of carrot and coriander soup, Thai green chicken curry, and apple crumble with local ice cream. The very well-equipped kitchen (complete with extractor fan which went up to 11) was overseen by "head chef" Sarah, but it was a genuine team effort all round. Special mention has to go to Si and Ali (cooking apple suppliers), Steve L and Mike (Keith Floyd impersonators), Rhoda (crumble queen), and Bruce (trolley dolly). Nobody stayed up too late, as the fresh air, sun and exercise had apparently wiped most people out.
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On Sunday the weather was just as nice, which meant breakfast on the terrace. The group then split up for a number of activities. The climbers (Paul, Simon H and Steve C) went to Three Cliffs Bay for the classic route Scavenger (VS 4c). Steve led this with Paul and Simon seconding - Simon did very well considering he hasn't climbed a great deal, and even did the layback section once he was told what laybacking was. He also took a great 10 foot swing into the cave while being lowered down from the top, to the others' amusement.
Rhoda, Bob, Si, Ali and Julie went surfing at Rhossili beach and had a fantastic time. Bob didn't get off to a great start when he put his wetsuit on the wrong way round, and made a very quick retreat to the changing rooms when Rhoda loudly pointed this out to the world (that Sartorial Elegance award is surely his for the taking). Although the surf wasn't ideal they managed to stand up on the boards, even if one person had to be aided by the other four. Rhoda and Bob then joined the climbers at Three Cliffs, and Bob led Scavenger as well.
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Claire, Alan, Joanne, Steve L, Belinda, Bruce, Sarah and Annie went to Penmaen and walked up Cefn Bryn, the highest point on the peninsula, for some excellent if slightly hazy views. They then circled down to Oxwich Bay, had the option of a precipitous scramble over Great Tor, and walked round the coast to Three Cliffs Bay for more swimming and beach cricket, enlivened by Alan's ongoing commentary. He went a bit quiet when Joanne bowled him out, an event which made her day (or possibly her week, or month - never underestimate sibling rivalry!).
Andy and Mike went biking, an event partially witnessed from the cliff tops by the walking party as they hurtled down the path to Oxwich Bay and promptly sank into the sand. Once they let their tyres down, they were able to continue. Andy also went for his first ever proper swim in the sea (you'd never guess he grew up on the coast), and it was agreed that they'll have to go again to do the circuit the right way round...
Top weekend. The weather turned out to be as glorious as predicted, just what we needed after an iffy summer, and we all made the most of it.
3-5 Oct - Cornwall
Present: Rhoda (organiser), Bob, Alan, Claire, Richard N, Sarah, Bruce, Richard C, Fiona, Steve C, Simon H, Belinda, Will, Keyna, Paul, Mike, Gaby, Matt, Nathan, Alex, Mick, Ange, Ayla
Location: Liskey Hill Campsite, Perranporth
For some, the journey to Cornwall presented a challenge (apparently it is possible to go the wrong way on the A30 for several miles before realising the signposts really shouldn't be saying 'London'). For others, the challenges started on arrival at our destination: trying to find the right caravans when they didn't seem to be numbered sequentially; a lack of toilet roll prompting emergency text messages to those still on the road. Despite all this, everyone managed to end up in the caravan with all the light, heat and alcohol on Friday night: Mick and Ange's. Ayla impressively slept through twenty people drinking and chatting into the small hours of the morning.
Saturday morning dawned clear, with excellent views of the beach and in direct contradiction of the weather forecast. Steve and Paul made a few comments about our lack of faith in the elements, and announced their intention to find some climbing. Everyone else set off along the coast towards St Agnes. This is an area with plenty of relics of the Cornish mining industry, including the quarry at Cligga Head and other leftovers (translation: holes to drop stones into to see how deep they go). We stopped for a coffee at Trevaunance Cove, by which time it was clear that Rhoda had used up all her weather goddess luck in the Gower. The rain persisted, on and off, for the rest of the day, with the addition of strong gusty winds (always fun on a coast path with a steep drop to the right). A few people headed inland or back to the campsite early, but the majority of the group carried on around the coast and stopped for another much-needed hot drink (or scary-looking ice cream and clotted cream concoction in Nathan's case) before heading inland via some muddy fields and inquisitive cows to St Agnes. The restrictions of the bus timetable then forced us to go to the pub before catching the bus back to Perranporth.
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Meanwhile, the only climbing that Steve and Paul managed to locate was indoors, and they also had an illuminating encounter with the local constabulary on the way back...
Saturday evening brought the usual culinary extravaganzas, including a Moroccan theme in one caravan, and all-out Mexican in another. Further socialising took place in two or three groups, possibly due to a disinclination to uproot to another caravan in the pouring rain.
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Sunday was a more relaxed start, with a variety of activities. Mike and Keyna set off on their bikes, while Richard N, Belinda, Alan and Claire took a walk across the dunes and path above Perranporth beach. A larger group (Bob, Rhoda, Alex, Bruce, Richard C, Simon and Fiona) went surfing at Perranporth, watched from a safe distance by Sarah, Nathan, Mick, Ange and Ayla. It was never established whether it was actually warmer in a wetsuit in the sea than on the extremely windy beach, but at least the latter group had the option of nipping off for a hot coffee. Later on, the weather began to look up, which was perfect timing for Rhoda, Gaby, Keyna and both Richards who had booked horse riding on the beach. The climbers had headed inland to Bodmin Moor by this stage, where unfortunately the weather had not cleared - they were spotted in intense discussions in a layby on the A30, and eventually went to the indoor wall at Launceston.
7-9 Nov - Yorkshire
Present: Dave H (organiser), Alan, Mark, Tony, Sarah, Andrea, Annie, Richard C, Adriana, Martin L, Bruce, Andrew Mc.
Location: Dub Cote Barn, Horton-in-Ribblesdale
After a remarkably good run up the country for most people, the group spent Friday evening having a couple of drinks, examining the map, and getting somewhat competitive about the vast quantity of food rations for the next day. The plan for Saturday was to attempt the Three Peaks, something Alan has done about six times before but a new challenge for most others in the group. The weather forecast was not particularly promising, and the get-out points were clearly identified before everyone went to bed around midnight...
...and then got up again less than six hours later, a time of day christened "stupid o'clock". This author has never got up so early in the name of NMC unless there's been a flight involved for a Bob trip. The weather lived down to expectations; one person, naming no names, had forgotten their waterproof trousers, but fashioned an interesting alternative using a second jacket and possibly invented the first waterproof skirt. After a few suggestions for design enhancements and the placement of a sporran, the whole group left the bunkhouse at 6.30am.
By the time we reached the top of Pen-y-Ghent it was mostly light, and we'd already lost Mark, whose pace was much faster than everyone else's. Although it was very wet, we had to stop for Alan to eat his breakfast pastie before continuing. The long route from Pen-y-Ghent to Whernside involved a lot of map-reading and bog-hopping, and one river crossing which took at least 20 minutes of deliberation and resulted in several pairs of wet feet. We then parted company with Alan and Tony, who had a different route in mind from the one on Dave's map. The terrain and the river put us rather behind schedule, and by the time we reached Ribblehead Viaduct, the group split into those who believed they had the pace and stamina to complete the route, and those who were suffering from wet feet, blisters, and a raging desire for a pint. Annie, Adriana, Andrea, Sarah and Bruce changed their plans from "Three Peaks" to "One Peak and Two Pubs", and had a drink at Ribblehead before catching the train back to Horton and doing the same thing there. (The frozen cider at Ribblehead is very nice and does not, contrary to initial belief, cost £4.50 for a half pint.) They got back to the bunkhouse shortly after Mark, who had completed the full route in excellent time and bought Three Peaks beer in celebration.
Martin was the next person to arrive back, having done Whernside and then caught the train. The rest of the group finally returned just before 8pm, by which time we'd had a sweepstake running for several hours: Dave, Andrew and Richard had reconvened with Alan and Tony on the way up Ingleborough. Well done to all of them, especially Richard who was suffering badly with his Achilles tendons by the end.
Although there was no communal meal, there were two main offerings of curry or pasta; some people managed both. As the evening progressed and the red wine and port flowed, Tony's CD collection was thoroughly investigated at a more than reasonable volume. Those who went to bed early actually slept through the communal Bohemian Rhapsody Massacre, although the sound of the cheese grater being used as a percussion instrument did rather echo through the whole bunkhouse. Bedtime for most was shortly after midnight.
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On Sunday, a smaller group of Dave, Adriana, Bruce, Martin, Andrew, Annie, Sarah and Andrea went to Malham and did the classic Janet's Foss, Malham Tarn and Gordale Scar walk, approximately 7 miles. The scramble up the waterfall at Gordale Scar looks a lot worse than it actually is, although the water was flowing strongly after recent rains and pretty much guaranteed a drenching. Annie decided she'd rather go round and explore Malham Cove from the bottom. Martin should probably have put his waterproof trousers on before pausing halfway up to advise Sarah on the route; a wall of water from the upper waterfall absolutely soaked him. Everyone enjoyed the scramble (well, Sarah did once she got over the first move), and carried on upwards to the limestone flats and the tarn. The weather closed in again, and we experienced not only rain, but hail and sleet before dripping back into Malham to join Annie and Richard for a cup of tea. The weather then produced even worse excesses on the journey home, but hopefully the elements didn't detract too much from everyone's enjoyment of a great trip.
28-30 Nov - Oswestry area
Present: Keyna (organiser), Shaun, Alan, Claire, Dave W, Paula, Sarah, Bruce, Richard N, Adriana, Phil, Tracy, Anthony, Tarinee, Rhoda, Bob, Belinda, Will
Location: The Engine House, Nantmawr Quarry, Shropshire/Wales border
This was a new destination for the Club, and considering the heavy fog which characterised Friday evening's journey, we were thankful to be leaving the A5 at Oswestry rather than carrying on into the depths of North Wales. Most people found the bunkhouse with minimal problems, and settled in for a few drinks around the huge table, appreciative of the warmth of the pot-bellied stove and mildly confused by the stuffed squirrels on the wall tapestries.
Saturday dawned cold and crisp. After Keyna's "team talk" and description of the route ("we're going to pop up this peak, then pop over here, and pop up that peak..."), we were on our way before 9am, driving around to the village of Llandrillo to start the walk. The scenery on the drive was wonderful, as we dipped in and out of low cloud - then, as we set off into the hills, we swiftly got above the cloud that had sunk low into the valley and had the perfect day for winter hill walking: blue skies, crisp underfoot, and no wind. We stopped at a large stone circle for refreshments before the long uphill to the first peak: Cader Bronwen (770m). En route, the frost beneath our boots became snow, and we had a very cold lunch at the top.
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From there we walked along the ridge to Cader Berwyn (827m), which had fantastic views across to Tryfan, Snowdon, and the rest of the Snowdonia range, and then across to Moel Sych (827m). This route was partly boarded, which gave some respite to our legs after tramping through undergrowth. The way back down was slippery in places and as we got lower, boggy and interspersed with a few river crossings. Llandrillo was hidden by the clouds throughout, but we finally rediscovered it at dusk, having walked 18-19km.
Saturday evening was a gastronomic extravaganza. After Sarah made a couple of vats of mulled wine and Bruce served it up, the menu involved two kinds of soup with garlic bread, four types of pasta, chicken cacciatore, asparagus, and salad. We then took a breather before the choice of apple crumble, chocolate tart, or macerated oranges. Anthony ran the kitchen with impressive efficiency, serving courses on the hour and keeping our salads separate from our pasta, and the cooking was a great team effort from him, Claire, Belinda, Dave, Paula, Tarinee, Shaun, Rhoda, Tracy and Richard. Bob project-managed the washing up (which seemed to involve delegation to Alan who looked very fetching in a striped pinny), and Phil was in charge of feeding wood into the stove. Richard's friend Liz, who lives in the area, joined us for the evening and contributed local cheese and Jenga, both of which were popular.
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Sunday was also cold and clear. The walkers, led by Richard, set off from the bunkhouse just after 9am to head northwards along the Offa's Dyke path and then cross-country back to base for pasta leftovers.
Meanwhile the bikers, Keyna, Dave and Shaun, started by defrosting their car windows in -4 degrees for the short drive to Llangollen. Well done to Shaun for planning a great route: starting down the canal, which had loads of little boats with wood stoves going - why weren't we somewhere warmer?! Then up up up a little mountain road for miles and miles. Switchback after switchback in bottom gear - at least Keyna was. The boys might have been doing sightly better. We had to stop and walk our bikes across ice a couple of times which was right across the road.
When the road broke out into an open mountain pass, we headed off down the Offa's Dyke route. Puddles iced over, boardwalks with snow, loads and loads of thick frost over everything. A bit technical but no-one actually fell off. Down onto some specially prepared mountain bike trails then into the hills again. Across farmers' fields, over gates, carrying the bikes a little through very muddy bits and finally back down to a lovely winding road that followed the river back into Llangollen. 46kms down and a very welcome shower and late lunch back at the bunkhouse before everyone headed for home.
13 Dec - Christmas Walk
Present: Dan (organiser), Claire, Alan, Dave H, Nicola, Richard S, Maika, Dave W, Paula, Andrea, Fiona S, Simon H, Simon P, Richard C, Alex, Sarah, Bruce, Maggie, Keyna, Shaun, Ange, Mick, Ayla, Rhoda, Bob (plus Mike, Gaby, Fiona B, Beckie, Maisie, Mark and Marion for the meal)
The annual Christmas walk usually has a large turnout. Unfortunately, the weather did not live up to the fantastically cold and clear conditions we'd had the two previous weekends, and the forecast encouraged a few people to either join us for the meal only, or abandon the idea altogether. Undaunted, 25 of us still congregated at Hungerford station (Simon P turning up on the right day this year) and set off towards the common in the drizzle, almost managing to leave Richard S and his green wellies behind.
Those wellies turned out to be a sensible move. Dan had pre-walked the route and described it as muddy, requiring gaiters. However, the recent deluge of rain had added a lot of standing water and while it was fun to splash through a few large puddles, we were all brought up short by a path several feet underwater, ending in a bridge which had almost been obscured by the stream now rushing both under and over it. Some took a deep breath and waded in; others chose to skirt round the newly-made lake by detouring halfway across a field. It was while we were spread out negotiating our routes that Keyna missed her footing on the bridge and went into the water.
At first, it didn't seem to be a major problem. There was one of those ironic cheers, and Dan leaned over to give her a hand, figuring it would be easy enough to extract one small Australian from a stream. When he was nearly dragged in himself and Keyna's head went under, the rescue mission became a lot more serious. The stream's current had trapped her legs parallel under the bridge, and no amount of pulling or human chain-forming seemed to be having any effect - until Dave H leaped into the water, which came up to his chest, and managed to free her legs so that Mick could finally yank her from the water.
Once the immediate danger had passed and we were all trying to process what had just happened, the women in the group efficiently formed a human wall around Keyna so she could get rid of her wet clothes and re-attire herself in a variety of spare clothing provided by the group. (It was almost an hour later when she asked "Whose trousers am I wearing?") There was also hot coffee for Keyna and restorative mulled wine for the rest of us. Eventually we continued to the Indigo Palace at Ham, encountering another water obstacle just to ensure everyone had wet feet, where Beckie and Fiona had brought along dry clothing for the others who had gone in the river during the rescue (Dave, Bruce and Dan).
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The Indian food was excellent as ever, but our late arrival and the large group meant that not only would we be finishing the second part of the walk in the dark, we'd be starting in the dark as well. Out came the head torches as we left Ham, and care had to be taken to keep the group together so as not to miss any turnings. The section through the woods was truly pitch-black. Eventually, however, we got to Bedwyn in plenty of time to finish off the mulled wine before catching the train back to Newbury. A few people went straight from the station to the King Charles and finished off the day with a few more beers, not to mention discussing the Incident of the Day. Considering we scale peaks, undertake exposed scrambles and rope ourselves to sheer rock faces, it's rather sobering to encounter our most dangerous situation for years just outside Hungerford. Everyone was OK and there were no serious consequences, thank goodness, but it was certainly a Christmas walk to remember.