I have been going up Kirkstone Pass and Red Scree's for years now. I learnt to ski up there when we had the shop, as its first incarnation, The Fellsman, when we put a rope tow up most Sunday's when there was snow. We used to charge 50p per day for use of the tow, to cover the fuel costs and our chicken and chips in a basket (a real one, not this plastic rubbish you get now-a-days) in the Kirkstone Pass Inn, when we were too cold and wet and neaded some solice. I remember one year we made an igloo on the side of St Ravens Edge.

Now, as I have been back in the Lakes for 10 years, I have been up and down Red Scree's many time. It is such easy access and if the gritter is able to keep the road open, then you up high before you even step out of yor car.

Kirkstone Pass and Red Scree's is used by all. You find sledgers, skiers and boarders, runner, walkers, climbers and a mulirtude of people just wanting a quick drink in the highest pub in England and to enjoy the feel of winter.

Yesterday I had 3 occurances with Red Scree's. After a little too much to drink on Saturday night, after a Christmas drinks party, I awoke to the obligitory dry mouth, badger shit 9or at least iot tastes like it, and slight skullrock (headache to the uninitiated) associated wiht too much alcohol. Still, there is coffee to help ease the pain. I had promised to take Nicola and kids to the Kendal Dry Ski Slope for practice for Isaac and Millie's on coming ski holiday with there Dad. The weather was amazing, with wall to wall blue skies. Why were we heading to a dry ski slope? I have only been on one, maybe once or twice, but Isaac wanted to go, so thats what we did. [a foot note: If we had skis for Isaac and Millie, I would have insisted we headed to Kirkstone, but.... we didn't) We arrived at the slope, got kitted up, I used my telemarks, for a bit of practice... don't have alpine skies anymore really. Isaac just got on with himself and for a kid who has only had onbe week on snow, he was pretty good, able to look after himself and confident enough. He'll be jumping cliffs in no time and ripping up the park as soon as he can. I helped and taught Millie again and I was happy to see she remembered lots from our 3 day's in Scotland earlier in the year. This was number 1, as I looked longingly at the white mountains in the distance from the dry slope, but with the knowledge I would be up there soon, sliding around.

Nic and kids went to thier grandparents for lunch and family time, I got a pass out and headed off to meet JP at Kirkstone for more fun.

Looking up the ascent path. The line we skied/boarded is just under the left of where the sun finishes in the bowl in the middle of the photograph

Red Scree's looked plastered, but on arriving it seamed to have less snow than when I skied down it 2 winters ago, but there looked enough and other people had already been down the bowl. JP, with snowboard in hand  and me, with my telemarks over my shoulder, headed up the path to make our way into the bowl. Its not a hard walk up and soon we were climbing the exit gully on the leftside of the mountain as you look up at it.

Pepa sitting in the exit gully of Red Scree's

From here we traversed across the slope and walked up out of where we were to ski/board down. As you look at the bowl, you have Raven Crag on the left, a steep gully just to the left of that, then some craglets, then a less defined gully weaving its way through the craglets and rock bands, then scree and the exit gully. We came down the less defined gully. It was steep, narrow at points and as ever, changable snow from top to bottom. JP, a seasoned and very compitent snowboarder, looked comfortable at the thought of heading down, where as I , a compitent telemarker, but not so confident on this ground, was a lot more nervous. I cursed I had not put on my helmet. We met a friend at the top of the gully, Wesley Orvis from Kendal, he had soloed up Kilnshaw Chimney, a great way to the top of the crag and reported it to be a snow slope all the way, the chimney choked with snow. Now was the time for the descent. JP dropped off the side of the slight cornice at the top and I gingerly turned on easier ground to start heading down. Both of us side slipped the next section to where there was a constriction. Alpine turns, step turns and side slipping saw me through the constriction and ready to watch JP make short work of it, which he duely did. Thankfully the angle eases and I was able to drop back into Tele-style turns, which I find ultra commiting and pretty hard on steeper terrain. Here I cursed for the lack of knee pads as rocks rushed past my dropped knee's. A few falls in deeper & heavier snow, and a 'picked line' saw us back at the carpark. The van was waiting with the burner still smoking away, ready to be stoked up. Wesley dropped in for a chat and JP and Nette (his wife) departed.I headed off for Nicola's parents and some cups of tea.That was number 2.

Snow capped Lakeland fells over the back of Red Scree's. Sunset on the summit

Night arrives, and Nicola and I say our goodnights to kids and Nicola's parents and head back up Kirkstone Pass for a revisit on Kilnshaw Chimney. We geared up in the van, with the warmth of the burner making it hard to get ready quickly, not really wanting to get out into the cold, but then once you're out there it all ok really.

We used Kahtoola KTS Steels for the ascent, knowing it was only a snow slope, they seemed perfectly adiquate and I don'rt mind walking on semi rock ground wiht them, as they're not my climbing crampons. Nicola had my axes, I used my ultra-light Camp Corsa Axe, perfect for this type of action. We were at the foot of the chimney in half the time we were the other night and started our way up un-roped. Charlie

Halfway up, the rope came out for Nicola's confidence and we made 2 pitches to the top, Nicola making a mini third as she headed off above the rope. The top gained and we headed for the descent path and the warmth of the van. The views from the top were beautiful. This was number 3.

So, Red Scree's showed me itself in the morning, capped in sparkling whiteness, welcomed me in the afternoon and let me slide down its belly on beautifully formed snow and then let us enter its guts as we walked up the banked out snow slopes of Kilnshaw Chimney for our finaley of the day. The views all round were fantastic and the lights of all the towns and villages, under dark cloud and the night sky were just perfect. A great day out on one mountain, and so many different things you can do on it. The possibilities are endless... or almost....

A winter Bob Graham round is a serious undertaking by anyones standards. If you are a purist, as John Brockbank of Windermere has told me, then it should be completed on the 21st of December, the Winter Solstice. I forget now whether Martin Stone of John Brockbank was the first to complete a winter round, but both put out amazing efforts, Martin soloing the whole thing through knee deep snow in places. That must have been a dark and lonely place at times.

On Friday night I got a little taste of what it must be like to have to endure the conditions, terrain and servere cold that comes with a Winter BG.

JP asked me last week was I helping out Mhairi Cameron on her Winter BG attempt? I knew nothing about it. But I had supported Mhairi on 2 subsequent attempts. The first had bailed at Bowfell. The second, which was a sucessful round, although outside of the time limit, I had joined her at Whiteside and ran the final part of the Helvellyn ridge to Clough Head and then we walked the final leg of Blencathra, Great Calva and finally Skiddaw. It was a beautiful morning and I was happy to be walking into Keswick as the sun rose... although not so happy for the lack of sleep and the fact I had to go to run the shop after breakfast. So this was number 3 and I wanted to be part of it. So I texted Mhairi. She put me on leg 1 with JP. So it was set. But then the weather set in for the weekend, heavy winds, lots of snow and a full moon. Great for skiing or possible climbing when it settles down, but not great for a BG attempt.

Mhaihi is a hard woman and was not detered. She was watching the weather carefully and saw a window in the high winds later on Friday and most of Saturday, so it was on. We were to meet at Moot Hall in Keswick at 6:30pm for a 7pm start. Excitment and trepidation ran through my body and I got all my stuff ready on Thursday evening in-between other commitments I already had.

Friday arrived and heavy snow had fallen in the morning and proceeded to, throughout the day (in the mountains that is). JP and I met in Windermere at 5pm, got to Keswick for 6pm and I was early for once.. shock and horror!! Mhairi and John arrived at 6:30pm and we all got ready. 7pm and Moot Hall was touched for the last time until 24hrs or so later... or so we hoped.

JP locks the van

As we ran out of Keswick the clouds were clearing showing us Lower Man and a full moon, it was already beautiful and we hadn't left the town. I probably shouldn't have been going, as my body was fulll of pains and sweats, a bug I had picked up on Thursday from my niece and nephew, but its hard to say no to a great event, and this was deffinately one of those. As we headed up Lower Man, my legs were on fire and I couldn't tell if we were moving too fast of whether it was the bug causing me the trouble. Mhairi was pushing hard, a little too hard, but then we had difficult conditions ahead. Or so we imagined anyway, and how right were we!!

JP and Mhairi heading up Skiddaw

JP helping zip Mhairi's waterproof pants in the cold (look at the fence!)

As we moved up the path the snow became deeper and drifts were growing. We climbed the style at the path division to head up Skiddaw and the otherside of the fence was full on winter. That was the start of it. The cloud descended slightly and we were following a faint path and on a bearing to the next gate.. which we found well enough, but it was a sign for sure, it was half covered in a snow drift. The summit of Skiddaw wasn't much of a problem, and neither the descent until the leftward turn is made to find the fence to cross. On crossing the fence it all changed. The weather was good, we came out of the cloud, but the ground was 12" deep in snow, some powder, some styrofoam and some or lots was a breakable crust, possibley the worst type you can imagine to run down. We made the bottom of the valley and the crossing through the bog was cold, ice cold.

We found the path to head up Great Calva straight away and Mhairi marched on, super determined to make good time. With my body the way it was, she left me behind and I worried that I wasn't getting food inside her, but there was little I could do. As we made the top, she was off and ahead again, with me panting, sweating and cursing myself for not calling it a day before I had started. I didn't want to let her down, but then it may have been better, as I felt I was slowing her up. The descent from Great Calva was hard, knee high heather and snow... you can imagine. Then the bog again at the bottom and to top it off, a lovely icey foot bath called Glender Amackin was crossed. I don't know about Mhairi or JP, but my feet were absolutley frozen. To the point of hurting. We then slogged it up and across Mungrizedale and onto the back of Blencathra, which again was to hard. Breakable crust, bogs and then a biting North Easterly breeze to top it all off. I finally managed to pull both JP and Mhairi back into range and got Mhairi into a warmer top for the summit. JP was suffering due to not enough layers, but then he doesn't moan, just gets on with it.

Mhairi ahead bathed in moon light trudging up the back of Mungrizedale Common. (yes, its a torch shining on the ground... )

Looking back from Mungrizedale Common to Skiddaw in the moonlight.

Atkinson Pike was made and we headed across the little dip to summit the Devil's Fingers (Blencathra). At the summit we go the invalueble Kahtoola Microspikes out to descend Halls Fell. This would have been lunacy without, but with the spikes on, it was only half lunacy. We trod carefully and soon we were out of the snow and heading down the final path to the waiting support van and John. There we were greeted by Paul Vousden, Helen Jackson and Dan & Dave. They were Mhairi support for the next section over the Helvellyn ridge.

Mhairi, in pink (what other colour would she be in!!?), and Helen Jackson sitting in the van. Paul Vousden dressed for the Helvelly Ridge of Leg 2. Mhairi ready to set off for Leg 2.

JP and I were wasted. It had taken everything out of me, I had sweated ridiculously for the temperature, but hopefully the bug was being cooked. Mhairi and supporters were leaving to get the next section underway and John was getting the van ready to give us a lift back to Keswick to JP's van.

We had taken 4:20 to do leg one. The next morning I texted Helen to find out how she had done and had she managed to complete the Helvellyn ridge, as Fairfield must have been a mission in that snow. The reply was, she arrived at Dunmail Raise at 5am, so it had taken her 5:30 for Leg 2 and she had set off on Leg 3. At 10:30am I got a text to say it was all over and Mhairi had called it a day somewhere on Leg 3 and was descending into Langdale. An amazing effort.

So Mhairi Cameron, against all odds and lots of disuasion from her friends and supporters gave a Winter Bob Graham attempt her best shot in what can only be called serious ground conditions and to top it off, although the weather had been fine, the wind chill during the night was well below zero. I would hazzard a guess of minus 15 or more when we were on Skiddaw & Blencathra, she had to cope with that all along the Dodd's and the Helvellyn ridge.

Well done Mhairi, what a tough woman you are!! ;-)

Winter has decided to arrive again, later than predicted by many independant weather forecasters/stations, but its here.. for now.

Nicola and I have been pretty active over the last 2 weeks, getting out as much as possible. We have been using the Kendal Wall new facilities, more routes, different walls, extended main wall and super new bouldering room at the to pof five flights of steps. Its a great place to stay fit and get strong for this winter or next summer.Nicola made her first lead a couple of weeks ago and is now comfortably leading F4/5+. Go Nicola!!

We had no kids last night (Wednesday), so we decided, since it had snowed, that we would get out for a little winter ascent of Red Scree's.It would be Nicola's second time out winter mountaineering and strangely she has a lot of trust in me (her first was Rampsgill Head, last year on Boxing Day). We set off from Windermere a little late, as usual for me. I forget how long it takes to get your winter stuff ready, especially if its all packed away and your not ready. By 9:15pm we were in the Kirkstone Inn carpark, getting our kit on, boots laced and raring to go. We let the dogs have a brief run around and then set off in wet snow across the beck/bog to start the ascent to Kilnshaw Chimney. The moon was high and 2/3rds full and shone brilliant blue/white light on the fells when the clouds were out of the way. And with the clouds moving fast they cast shadows and light across the fells like I have never seen before. I have obviously spent too much time inside.

The ground was difficult, as the snow was wet, the ground underneath was as well and this would have made for ultra slippy conditions if we hadn't been prepared with Kahtolla MicroSpikes attatched to our matching Aku SL PRO Ltr's. Have I now reached the sad position of 'his and hers'? Aargh, the approach of middle aged mediocraty, must fight it... mu...st...fig...ht...i....t....... We made good time up the ever deepening snow, and its a steep old pull upto the chimney. The open chute under the entrance to Kilnshaw Chimney was caked in snow, not just a foot or so, but in places it must have been 3 feet or more deep. I had mused about avalanche risk beofre we set off and this memory came back now, so we moved left onto ground with only 12 inches of snow covering it, where the rocks were still visable. Soon we were at the foot of the chimney pearing inside. Nicola was nervous and I was hell bent. 

The entrance top Kilnshaw Chimney, Red Scree's Above and below is the pit and block test.

I dug a snow testing pit, using my axe to cut the block and then proceeded to pull at the block. I found a loose-ish layer at the top about 3" down from the surface and then the rest seemed to be well bonded. So I made a descision it would be worth a look, but the gully looked full, there was 2 to 3 feet of snow in it at the start. I moved up the left wall, staying well out of the deep snow but when I got to the constriction, with one piece of gear in I dug out another pit in the mouth of the constriction. Standing to the left in relatively safe ground, I again pulled at the block and this time 3 layers appeared and it slid much easier than below. The wind had been coming from the West, so it made sence that windslab was building higher up, as the snow was desposited from the westerly slopes to the east. The snow was also deeper in the gully constriction now, possible 4-5 feet, so I hightailed it back to were I had come from and told the now shivering Nicola we were changing tack and taking a line to the right out of an open gully and weaving a line upto the plateau so we could descend. The snow became firm as we came out of the top of the open gully and we short roped it until we topped out.

Above is the gully exit to the right, below is Nicola's classic and traditional saddle belay!!

All the way up we hardly had any wind, the moon shone brightly above and it was a very beautiful night. When we topped out, the wind showed itself and it battered us until we got a few hundred feet down towards the carpark. We knew it was late, we were both tired, but we were smiling and happy to have stolen a moonlit, first of the winter, mountaineering route up the east facing flank of Red Scree's, even if we didn't get to experience Kilnshaw Chimney on that occasion. Nicola explained on the way down when we could hear each other again, now we were out of the wind, that she had felt dread looking up the chimney and was glad we hadn't done it and that the ascent in itself had been plenty enough for a seocnd winter outing and a first by night.

Nicola wearing the OMM Ultra 15, Leanweight MSC with helmet strapped under it. 

Back at the van, the dogs went mental and we had a little sit down before driving back to Windermere to get our dinner, that we should have eaten before we set off. We arrived home at 2:20am, ready to cook!!

Needless to say, we were a little tired when the kids arrived back at 7:30am from their Dad's.

Lets hope this warm day and rain hasn't stripped everything and we do get more snow tonight and later in the week.. I guess the moral of the story is, don;t wait, just get out there because you never know how long it will last, or if it will even last at all. But if you make the effort, you can be rewarded with everything, or then again.....

Kit used:

Lowe Alpine Power Strecth Bibs - Invaluble winter attire.

Montane Resolute Smock (worn with a tank summer base-layer) - Perfect temp control, apart from part of the trudge to the foot of the chimney

Aku SL Pro Ltr Gtx boots - Perfect for Lakes and UK Winter Mountainering.

Kahtoola MicroSpikes - Invaluble

Aarn Natural Exhillaration - Best pack ever (apart from the fact it collects snow in the back padding)

OMM Ultra 15 with Summer MSC - great for quick winter forays, fast and light

Camp IceRiders - perfect crampons for alround mountain use.

Nicola and Charlie at the foot of Kilnshaw Chimney, Red Scree's, Kirkstone Pass

 

Last friday, the 2nd December Kate Tyler tempted me down the Coniston Copper Mines again. This time we were headed for Flemmings Vein. I was late, as usual, and arrived with a skidding halt at the YHA in the copper mines valley underneath Wetherlam. Kate was ready and had a spare SRT kit for me, plus neoprene socks, strong wellies (the best for mine exploration apparently), a caving suit and helmet with a cavers light.I wore my Montane Resolute Smock and Low Alpine Power Stretch Bibs. I sweated hard on the zig zags up to the mine entrance, but figured I would be just right inside the mine.

The first part is to climb into the ground through a tunnel entrance constructed of fence posts, like a tunnel in the Great Escape, and drop into knee deep, then thigh deep water. Your wellies fill, your feet are instantly cold and it feels strange to be getting wet whilst I am dressed. We are out of the flooded passage quickly and emptying our wellie by tipping our legs up and down. Kate say's, 'Welcome to Hell' and we walk on.

Mines are strange places, they give you a sence of fear, doubt, confindness, and confusion even and yet you feel at home and safe, in the arms of your mother. I'm not sure if this is because you are underground, in the depths of Mother Earth. Now don't get me wrong, we weren't very deep as in the Earths sence of deep, but being 250ft under ground at some points, maybe more, feels along way from the surface. Or whether it is just one of those irrational things that seem to happen when you are in dangerous situations, where your mind just switches off the fear receptors and you seem to enter a serene, distant place where there is no fear, no problems and calm prevails. It is a self presavation mode, I have experienced it climbing and running or when ever I have been out of my depth of experience. It feels like a oneness with everything and everyone.And then to top of the rush of feeling and emotion, you start to look around and understand where you are, what you are stood on, what is above you and then what it must have been like to spend your life down here working the mines, blasting the rock to make the Stopes and putting the false floors in.

To give you a mental picture of how the quartz veins were mines, there would be trials mined into the side of a fell, into the mineral rich bands of quartz and rock and if it was good, they would continue to mine in a tunnel, then once the vein was established, they would work upwards following the vein, building false floors in these 'stopes', as they are called, by bridging dressed tree trunks across the stopes and laying rough cut planks on them, then filling above this with all the waste blasted rock. These floors can be many feet thinck, meaning many tons of rock are resting on them. These stopes can go up, or down, depending on where you are in the mine workings, for a couple of hundred feet of more. Alot of these floors have been in for a minimum of 100years, some being older. This mens alot of the timbers are very rotten and the floors are susseptible to collapse. As you make your way through the workings, you at points, have to clip on  'cowstails' to runnning ropes bolted to the side of the tunnels as the floors falls away to one side. Some of the tunnels underneath you are flooded and we looked down into one wiht Kates super powered torch, pearing through the, today, murky blue waters tinted by the copper sulphate they contain. When you realise, i.e the penny drops, as to what you are stood on alot of the time, you then realise and go through the same penny motion, as to what is above your head...... then you look up! Whoops, its pretty full on to say the least as you start to notice just how wet, and rotten the planks and tree trunks are above your head. Noting the splintering in the wood or the collapsed parts in front of you. Russian roulet spins through your mind, but then memories fade to Ben Nevis and Honza's and my adventures there and I understand that maybe its not so so dangerous down here, but there will be a time when the floors fall in more... and that thought keeps rattling around in your brain.

We move through tunnels, come into an open cavern with a massive floor above our heads, its very impressive. Next we move into a tight stope and abseil down into the guts of the workings more. We move through floors that are collapsing, but slowly (the floors, not us!!) and then start making a few traverses on looped rope between floor colapses. We look down a couple of hundred feet into the main shaft and then do the same from lower down back up it. We see the final ray's of winter sun through a tiny gap 100ft or more above us and then we finally move into the hairiest part for me.

Kate tells me we have to go through a little squeeze by dropping through an 'bottomless oil drum that is set into the floor into the next passage. This part has been dug out by mining enthusiast back int he 80's I think. Kate drops in feet first, telling me not to touch the sides, as it moved a few years ago and now the drum is ripped open, but stable apparently. Eek... When I am halfway through the drum I understand what she means, the rubble has move, ripping the drum almost in 2 and you get to look at all the blocks it is still supporting somehow with its rusted fickle steel framework. Once you are horizontal and you are away from the drum, you turn onto your tummy and reverse until you can turn round. This again is like the 'Great Escape'.

Its all starting to seam tame now, as we head down a few more tunnels and we knee deep again in water. I can feel the cold wind of the Coniston Fells pushing its way past me and for the first time since we went underground I notice my hands are cold with the windchill factor. Mother Earth kept us warm in her womb, in the scars caused by our strange want and need for precious metals, electrical conductors and manty other resaons why we fopund it necassary to rape these minerals out of the ground where they must have lay for millions of years.

Then were outside again and unlike last time, which was a few years ago and we entered the mine working from Levers Water, I was already thinking about the next time we will be going underground. I think we are abseiling 300ft plus down the main shaft next time.. some of Kate and her friend Tony's recent exploration...

For a few more pictures follow the links:

Flemmings Vein