Introductory Thoughts: 2002 - 2005

I like to walk. I seem to have become a largely solitary man, and I'm at an age where I need to get as much exercise as possible, certainly more than I'd get by sitting at home every weekend, and walking fits the bill for pastime and exercise. 2012 has seen me start on regular walking exploits, but it has taken me a whole decade to go from my first steps out for it to become a regular activity, so before we go further, a few bits of background story are needed...


I tried distance walking in the past, but never successfully got into a routine. I got my first pair of walking boots in 2001, when filling a morning before a friend's wedding, but didn't get out on a proper walk until I went up Pen-y-ghent from Horton-in-Ribblesdale in the spring of 2002. It was a trip I enjoyed enormously and I ended up walking much further than I had intended, all the way to Stainforth Bridge, because I'd done the ascent so much quicker than I'd expected.

But I never continued, largely because of lack of funds for getting out, and due to the fact that most Friday evenings would involve me drinking myself into a stupor. Oh, to be so young again!
I did turn my hand to photography for a time over this period, even going as far as buying an SLR (and proving that I am completely behind the times) and enrolling at Leeds College of Art and Design. So for landscape projects, I'd find reason to strike out from my home in Burley Park, east to Armley and Kirkstall, and north to Headingley, Meanwood and Adel, and even out as far as Bolton Abbey, Ilkley Moor and Otley Chevin. Some of the trail were several hours long, but I was always thinking more of what I could photograph, rather than enjoying the walk, and when I failed to get on board for the second year of the course, my interest waned badly.

I'd regularly pore over my ancient copy of Outdoor Leisure 2 though, thinking of future exploits that never came around, and then over the summer of 2003, instead of spending my money on CDs, I exploited the Waterstones 3-for-2 on OS maps and acquired many of  Northern England's OL sheets, but I wasn't getting any closer to getting out and about.

Occassional social outings for various Bank Holidays provided the odd outlet or two, a regular haunt was Sandsend, near Whitby, and I always fixated on hitting a stretch of the Cleveland Way, but cricket on the beach always ended up being more appealing. Other trips took us to Fountains Abbey (always a fun park) and to Masham, but the first proper excursion was to Malham on a day that turned brutally hot half-way, and whilst we managed to get in the Cove and Gordale Scar, the heat in limestone country was so brutal it caused me to pass out; the only time I have ever flaked out with heat exhaustion. Somewhat cooler was the following year, when we headed to the Washburn Valley, where a planned short stretch and afternoon in the pub in Timble turned into a tour all the ways around Swinsty and Fewston reservoirs. Around that time, though, my work cut the bank holiday days available from two to one and my Tuesday expeditions were lost.

Then in February 2005, my first significant step was taken. I tagged along on a trip to Wasdale Head with my closest friends, IH & AK, MW & SW, with the intent of bagging two Lakeland peaks. I was prepared for the worst kind of walking conditions as on the two previous occasions, walks has been halted by rain, so I was all set with thermals and waterproofs. Fortifying ourselves at the Wasdale Head Inn, with dinner and breakfast, we set out up into Mosedale, leaving the womenfolk behind at the start of the ascent to Black Sail pass. The weather, having promised low cloud, then improved and we arrived at the top in bright sunshine, but as it was February, the path to the summit of Kirk Fell looked like a a vertical slide of ice and rock, and none of us felt sufficiently bold to approach it. Erring on the side of caution, we instead went around Kirk Fell, below Broad How Crags, to Beck Head, and then to the path up the North-West edge of Great Gable. Somehow, we managed to lose the path and we did a lot more scrambling than we had planned, with far too many vertigo-inducing glances back before we made the summit, but the summit was achieved and it was a great feeling!

 (Self on right, IH on left, pic c/o MW)

Winter hours thus meant a rather hurried descent, down the South-East path to Styhead, and the realisation that you are on the wrong side of the mountain for Wasdale, and then hauling yourself down the valley route back to the hotel. Nobody enjoyed that descent but the day itself was one for the memory banks.

Inspired by this success, IH and myself, made an attempt on Ingleborough the following March, but this turned out to be a wholly different experience. We had set of from Clapham, and the day was grey but fresh, and the walk up Clapdale to Gaping Gill via Trow Gill was enjoyable but much harder than either of us anticipated. The ascent from there was just awful though, ankle deep mud and every single step was an effort, we conflabed between Thack Pot and Little Ingleborough and decided that worsening conditions and diminishing daylight were against us and we bailed from the trail, returning to Clapham, beaten.

All to exhilaration and hope of the first walk was lost, and in retrospect it seems foolish to have given up so easily, but in the wake of that, life priorities shifted and no more social walks on such a scale were attempted again.

To be continued...