TGO Challenge 2017 Day 3: River Meig to Glen Orrin

As a rule, I don't bang on a lot about gear here. These days I buy new stuff when the old tried and trusted stuff falls to bits. But I will take a moment to tell of the wonders of Trinnie Trailstar. This is Trinnie's fourth TGO Challenge.

First, the bad stuff.

• She takes a while to put up. Not Trinnie herself; no, you are under cover quite quickly but the combined package of Trinnie, my wonderful Oooknest and my porch groundsheet. 
• Occasionally the wind can shift a hundred and eighty degrees but I've never found that a problem as the porch is so huge no weather makes its way to the inner. If a big storm's coming you'll know all about it when you're pitching, so you won't make a mistake with her orientation.

LOOKING BACK UP GLEANN FHIODHAIG AFTER BREAKFAST

• Then of course there's the infamous 'Trailstar crawl' that can result in wet knees and condensation on your back. I've never found this a problem, but perhaps I'm more agile than most and more tolerant of minor inconveniences.

However, the good stuff far outweighs any of these niggles:

• Trinnie can comfortably accommodate party-goers. 
• She's a great place to discuss the day's plans when it's peeing down with rain, or pass whisky flasks to each other. 
• Sopping gear can be dumped in the cavernous porch out of the way to be dealt with after you're all dry and snugly after dinner. 
• There's so much room in my Oookstar (that's an inner-tent designed specifically for the Trailstar) that organisation is a piece of cake. 
• There are no zips to get iced up, and she is incredibly stable in ferocious wind and rain. You're guaranteed a good night's sleep. 
• In the morning, when it's chucking it down outside it's an absolute doddle to pack away all your gear apart from Trinie herself, undercover. There's loads of room to put on your boots, change into your waterproofs in a dry spacious interior.

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This morning Trinnie is soaking from overnight rain but I pack away a virtually dry Trailstar. I fly her, rather like a kite, and shake and shake and shake all the water from her flanks until she's virtually dry. Then it's simply a case of bundling her into her stuff sack and popping her under the lid of my rucsac. 

DAVID

And so to today's route. It's Sunday and Mrs May is apparently living in 10 Downing Street. 

It promises to be a very good day indeed, following 'FWA1' on the maps below, with just a 20km stroll and 430 RouteBuddy metres of ascent. That's about 800 of your MemoryMap or Anquet metres... As you can see from the first map, designing all the foul weather alternatives for this section proved to be an interesting experience. Having taken our FWA yesterday it means that today we continue on FWA1 until we rejoin our fine weather route at Luipmaldrig.

MORNING MAP. CLICK TO ENLARGE: FOLLOWING ROUTE FWA1

We are walking together today and surprisingly for a large-ish group we set off more or less on time. I would be hard pressed to find lovelier people to spend a day in the hills with.

   

AFTERNOON MAP. CLICK TO ENLARGE. FOLLOWING ROUTE FWA1 TO 'FINE CAMP'

It looks to be one of those open and shut days - lovely warm sunshine followed by brisk frisky showers, repeated at hourly intervals. I adore this sort of hill weather. Photographs are infinitely more interesting with huge piles of dramatic cloud, showers draping themselves across layers of hills and freshening wind heralding another brief downpour. It makes you feel alive again. 

THE RIVER MEIG

The Meig rewards with every twist and turn, and then the glen gradually opens as Scardroy approaches.

PASSING SHOWER, GLEANN FHIODHAIG

DAVID, HMP3 & EMMA, HEADING FOR SCARDROY

SCARDROY

Scardroy must rank as one of the most beautiful locations for a house in Scotland. This is my second visit - Lord Elpus had sent me this way years ago when he was recovering from having the first set of innards removed - and I would happily come this way again and again. The grass and wall just past the red rhododendrons make a wonderful spot for elevenses in the sunshine.

HMP3 & EMMA

EMMA.

Neither David nor I realise that at this point Emma is feeling quite unwell, and after our very relaxed stop, we scamper along the road together, with HMP3 and Emma walking as a pair behind us. We reach the farmstead at Inverchoran just as a very feisty shower hits, with some menace. David and I are in our base layers and make a dash for the shelter of the trees where the track begins to take us up through the wood. We stooge about for a while, but there's no sign of Humph or Emma, so we carry on up the hill, thinking they'll catch us when we stop for lunch at the top.

LOOKING BACK TOWARDS SCARDROY ALONG LOCH BEANNACHARAIN

I remember this track from last time. It's a grunty swine. About 750 Imperial Feet of up, in very steep indeed sections that make my legs go to jelly. I've no idea how David's jellylegs are coping with this, but the Bounder seems to be doing well enough. You really have to squint at the map with a very hard squint to see all the stacked brown squiggly lines hiding in the pretty green colouring of the woodland. 

LOOKING BACK TO SCARDROY AFTER A GRUNTY CLIMB UP A TRACK IN THE WOODS IN THE RAIN

Eventually, gasping for oxygen, we break the shelter of the trees and the sun is belting down once again. We struggle along up the track, promising ourselves that at the next rise we'll stop for a spot of lunch, until at that rise we see another better looking spot a few hundred yards further on. And then the same again. 

RUFTY-TUFTY DAVID AT OUR LUNCH SPOT

I determine to make savage inroads into my still gargantuan food bag. Pork pies are despatched with the last of the mustard. Three Mr Kipling Cherry Bakewells are swallowed whole. The honey-roasted cashews and cranberries are devoured. Just as I am about to start on my Lion Bars the wind freshens alarmingly and we look up to see the view in the picture below.

'How far do you think that is away?' asks the VeryVeryNiceMan.

In a frenzy I'm stuffing away my food bag and pulling out all my waterproofs and  reply 'About thirty seconds' as the first penny size drops bounce smartly and very wetly on my bald patch. 

-An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy jackets just in time
But David was still yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man on fire or in lime...

INCOMING! VIRTUALLY NO SOONER THAN WE HAD SAT DOWN...

It's a belter of a shower, lasting quite some time. If you were of a pedantic nature you may wish to call it a summer storm, but this is the Western Highlands of Scotland, so it's just a passing shower. Either way, it great to have some real weather chucked in our general direction. This is not the time to wait for Emma and Humph and so we carry on in the fabulous downpour. On a happy note it's coming ever so slightly from behind as we follow the delightful hill path over the top of the bealach and then down towards Glen Orrin.

ANOTHER PASSING SHOWER. LOOKING SOUTH ACROSS GLEN ORRIN

Even in this weather of fierce stormlets followed by blazing sunshine this walk is utterly fabulous. We follow the wonderful little gorge, swapping banks occasionally, down to Luipmaldrig and fall inside, grateful to be out of the hot sunshine.

A BELTER OF A PASSING SHOWER AT LUIPMALDRIG, LOOKING EAST DOWN GLEN ORRIN

Chairs. Tables. Civilization. A settling cup of Horlicks with a large dash of Bowmore. Criminal, I know, but quite perfect with shortcake and a slice of fruitcake. But I don't have any shortcake, or fruitcake for that matter, and so I'm making do with Tuna-with-a-Twist in pitta bread, followed by six slices of Leerdammer in pitta bread. And another Horlicks with a larger slug of Bowmore.

This is life as it should be lived.

As we're packing up to leave, who should stumble through the door than our old mate Humphrey. We stare at him quizzically. 

'Ah. Yes... I didn't burn her!' the Brute blurts...

Where is she? What have you done with Emma?

And so Humph explains that poor Emma had been feeling ghastly for days, if not weeks and had come to the end of her tether at Inverchoran and decided to walk down the public road to civilisation, call Challenge Control and go home to bed.

We're stunned. We honestly had no idea. From my overview maps I know it's a long walk down that road. 

DAVID, LEAVING LUIPMALDRIG

Seeing as we're Rufty-Tufties and Well 'Ard, we forsake the luxury of the bridge back upstream and David walks through in his plimmies and I tip-toe across the very low River Orrin dry-shod. Pleased as punch to have saved all of half a mile, at best, we saunter down the right bank of the River Orrin in gorgeous sunshine.

DAVID CROSSING RIVER ORRIN, SAVING A PLOD BAG UP TO THE FOOTBRIDGE

DAVID'S PICTURE OF ME CROSSING THE ORRIN

DAVID, HEADING DOWNSTREAM, EAST ALONG THE ORRIN 

If you take the trouble to scroll up to the second map in this post you'll notice that according to the Ordnance Survey we're due to camp alongside the Orrin Reservoir. But it is not to be so. In fact, walking down Glen Orrin, you will not find the reservoir for quite another few miles further on than those Cartographic Cads would have you believe. Quite why they show the reservoir where it is I do not know! If any readers can cast any light on this mystery, perhaps they could pen a reply in the comments section. As it is, we saunter through some lovely grassland, apparently deep under water.

DAY 3: CAMP. CLICK TO ENLARGE

You'll see, if you look closely at the picture above, that hefty little showers continue their games after we have flipped up our shelters. 

I'll let the pictures speak for themselves for a while. They're all taken at our perfect campsite.

BEASTIE HEADING FOR MY OOOKNEST

LONG ZOOM BACK TO LUIPMALDRIG, SOMEONE HAS THE FIRE GOING

HMP3 MAKING HIS WAY TO MEET UP WITH US

LOOKING SW FROM OUR CAMP

HMP3'S LASER COMP, DAVID'S SCARP 1 & TRINNIE TRAILSTAR, BETWEEN SHOWERS

Today has been another belter of a day. I adore this weather. Scotland becomes a live beast, the air is cleaner, fresher and the hills have structure and strength as sunlight streaks and slices through ragged skies. This is the TGO Challenge at its glorious best.

A Wasdale slackpack: Part 2: Architecture

Mention Wasdale to a wrinkly hill walker and there’s a pause, and then a smile as warm memories come flooding back. What is it about this place that is so special?

It is a magical mixture of raw nature and the hand of man. There’s no denying the fabulous mountain architecture; Wasdale is dominated by massive rock hulks that tower above the lake and valley head. But complementing this colossal mountain landscape is the hand of man. Through the centuries farmers have woven an intricate web of dry stone walls and constructed low stone buildings in the lush valley bottom. This post deals with man’s architectural contribution.

Note: There may be a gratuitous picture of Trailstars, as they are an architectural tour de force, unlike any other shelter.

You can click on each of the pictures to view them at a larger size in a new window.

ST OLAF'S CHURCH, WASDALE

 

ST OLAF'S CHURCH, WASDALE

 

 

BURNTHWAITE

 

RUINS ABOVE WASDALE HEAD

 

MIDDLE ROW

 

TRAILSTARS ABOVE WASDALE

 

MYSTERY STRUCTURE & OPTICAL ILLUSION

TGO Challenge 2014: PreWalkDaunder: Days 2 and 3

DAY TWO:

I woke to a scene of devastation: Empty fag packets, cigar stubs, half-drunk bottles of wine, beer tins dancing in the porch’s wind-eddies. Stale cheese encrusted plates all over the shop, a cracked Lexan wine glass. The grass littered with spilled peanuts and half eaten sausages on sticks. A pair of boots, attached to an unfortunate’s legs were being dragged back to a tent for half an hour’s desperately needed sleep.

The Scotch Eggs looked okay and tasted fine, washed down with a tumbler of Jura. I was now ready to face the new day.

The others’ shelters were bobbing and dancing in a stiffening breeze, while Trinnie behaved impeccably. Today’s forecast was breezier than even yesterday, and so after a brief conflab, a foul weather route was chosen as we really didn’t fancy being blown to death on the higher tops. We decided, this time, to skip the Victorian Gentlemen’s Club in Keswick for a leisurely stroll over to the Sun Inn at Bassenthwaite. Lynsey’s painstaking research had shown it had a “dedicated drinking area” and, as she was a dedicated drinker, she thought this sounded a perfect fit.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself again. We actually set off on time, for the second time in a row. Andy’s transformation from lardy, tardy bastard to lean, keen racing machine is quite something to behold! He has lost over a backpack of flab in weight and is now never, ever late! Next year he’s going to fix Broken Britain.

And here is the gentleman himself, beautifully colour co-ordinated with Croydon. Is there no end to this man’s talents?

CROYDON & ANDY: A PERFECT MATCH

And here are the Daunderers, looking surprisingly chipper after a rough night:

DAY TWO DAUNDERERS – CLICK TO ENLARGE

You can see that it’s a nippy old morning as everyone is wearing their titfers & mittens.

It was easy walking, albeit with some jolly unpleasant up-hill stuff, on a Landrover track all the way to the minor roads that would carry us gently to the warming embrace of the pub. But, there was still the rather unpleasant matter of lugging rucksacks and bodies all the way by one’s own leg power. That’s the drawback with this backpacking lark; It does take considerable effort, mostly when all you really want to do is have a nice lie-down on the settee under a blanket in front of the fire and have a restorative snooze.

Just occasionally though, it is worth the effort. The view back to Skiddaw House was gorgeous:

SKIDDAW HOUSE – CLICK TO ENLARGE

We passed Whitewater Dash, a fine waterfall. Phil reminisced about the time he came here as a small boy with his father, who had dangled him upside down above the falls, until he had agreed to be sent away to school. Sadly, they don’t do parenting like that, these days.

PHIL'S PICTURE OF HIS REICHENBACH FALLS

It was then but an amble along the track, mercifully downhill all the way, passing beneath Dead Crags and Cockup.

DEAD CRAGS

We had an early lunch, sheltering unsuccessfully behind a wall, in the cold. I continued to munch my way through my second hundredweight of cheese and tomato sandwiches. You can’t beat a good strong cheddar, some sweet tomatoes and lashings of fine-ground black pepper and salt, all stuck between stiff wholemeal slathered in waves of salted butter. Admit it; You’re drooling as you read this.

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After Croydon had been persuaded to settle with the dog’s owner, we left the pub, three pints of Cumberland and a Grouse to the better with life. In the intervening period, the sun had made a welcome appearance. Hats and gloves were duly removed and it was an altogether jollier band of Daunderers that set off back uphill, on our way to our overnight camp. Perhaps it was a jovial shove from a fellow Daunderer, or perhaps he had just lost his footing, but he went down onto the gritty road surface like a sack of spuds. We all helped Phil up; he was shaken but not stirred. Phil offered to take the next shot, as he thought Miss Whiplash would not be too impressed to see her husband with a nasty head wound. Lynsey patched up the old lag – he’s not too steady on his pins these days – and used a whole tin of concealer to good effect. The blusher and eye-shadow were not strictly necessary.

POST- PUB DAUNDERERS, CONCERNED FOR PHIL: CLICK TO ENLARGE

The next three pictures were on the rest of the afternoon’s uneventful stroll:

ORTHWAITE HALL

 

LOCAL SPORT: CLICK TO ENLARGE

 

A SIGN! WE'RE NOT LOST!

As it was still quite windy we decided to tuck our shelters in the lee of Longlands Fell rather than on the saddle, where we might have found ourselves blown to Caldbeck half a day early. With a bit of cunning, we managed to get all six up in reasonable order:

CROYDON, DAVID & PHIL - LONGLANDS FELL – CLICK TO ENLARGE

 

TRINNIE TRAILSTAR & HELGA HEXPEAK – CLICK TO ENLARGE

The sun was just dipping over the horizon when I took these pictures, which might explain the purple colour-cast. Andy’s Helga and Croydon’s Competition are actually green.

TRINNIE IN THE SETTING SUN – CLICK TO ENLARGE 

After dinner, we did our very best to finish off the remnants of our whisky. But, Lordy, Lordy, Lynsey came up trumps again, replenishing the stocks by producing a fine flask of Arran. She and her husband, Alastair, are single-handedly fortifying our parties!

LYNSEY & PHIL

The eagle eyed Trailstar Spotters amongst the congregation will notice that Trinnie’s centre pole is set at 120cm, which of course,means she is at 115cm, as 5 cm - the pole tip – is buried in the ground.

 

DAY THREE:

CAMP 2: BINDER MISSED THE CHAMPAGNE AGAIN– CLICK TO ENLARGE

That’s Croydon & David in the picture. Again, quite remarkably, we were away by the appointed hour; it must be that we are almost ready for the Challenge in a couple of weeks’ time.

We strolled along the Cumbria Way’s foul weather route, which gives splendid elevated views of the numerous radio masts hereabouts. We took breaks regularly on thoughtfully positioned benches and it was a happy, relaxed clutch of Daunderers who ambled their way towards the final destination – the Oddfellows Arms in Caldbeck.

As we had been amongst thousands of lambs throughout the weekend, here is a gratuitous picture of what will soon be gracing your plate on a Sunday lunchtime:

RESTAURANT ORDER 316

Caldbeck is a lovely little village and I’m pleased to pass on that a few years back it had a very lucky escape; David didn’t move in.

Here it is in its British loveliness:

CALDBECK, STILL PROUD TO BE BRITISH – CLICK TO ENLARGE

The last photo is inside the Oddfellows – aptly named for the Daunderers:

DAUNDERERS - GLAD IT'S ALL OVER, FOR ANOTHER YEAR.

Note: The beer’s good in the Oddfellows, but don’t go there for the food. Do the extra mile and go to the Old Crown in Hesket Newmarket, which sadly was not open on Monday lunchtime. On the plus side, they do have a pool table and the staff are very friendly.

Then it was back to Throstle Hall to collect the cars and the TGO2014 PreWalkDaunder was over. Thanks, Phil for doling all the driving.

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Now, where did I put the rucksack; it’s almost time to pack for the TGO Challenge!