Lightweight Outdoors

Snow/Pie. The dominant theme behind my excursion to the Lake District this weekend.

After the bad weather in the east I suggested to Steve that a trip to the relatively clear Lake District may be in order – living in Glasgow I can get a nice early train and be in Penrith within 90 minutes without having to de-ice the car, and Steve has a relatively straightforward (compared to getting to Aviemore) drive along the length of the A66. Assembled in the warmth of the Penrith McDonalds, we decided to make for Keswick and assess the minor roads after a supply stop at Booths. In an effort to avoid the worst of the crowds whilst I tried out my Yowie snowshoes for the first time (full review to follow), we decided to head up towards Mungrisdale and Mosedale and into the Caldbeck Fells.

This plan lasted around 10 minutes, or until the state of the minor roads became apparent. After some deft parking in an A66 layby near to the village of Scales, we ascended the snowy track on Scales Fell (I did it twice, as a gust of wind blew my CCF mat back down the path a hundred metres or so… long story) before strapping on the Kahtoolas for an exciting traverse in a mixture of compacted snow and knee-deep powder. Reaching the bealach (or col, saddle, pass, whatever) southwest of Souther Fell I donned the Yowies for the deep powder covering the Scales Tarn track. These proved to be a bit unnecessary, as Steve appeared to be coping fine postholing behind me, and I was hardly floating over the surface – merely sinking a bit less and making a nice trail for Steve to follow!

Moving further up the valley we reached the stream running into the almost-invisible River Glenderamackin from Scales Tarn, and decided to take the most direct route straight down, across and up the opposite bank. Plunging the heels of the Yowies into the slope as advised in the user manual, I certainly descended at speed, but I’m not entirely sure I can call it a controlled descent and a significant portion of the banked snow came with me. Trying to get up the far side caused some amusement for the onlookers, and finally resulted in me removing the snowshoes and ascending in a manner similar to the Travelator in Gladiators . Not sure I can blame the snowshoes for that!

Meeting a suprisingly straight-faced Steve at the top, we headed on up the valley. At this stage the Yowies came into the their own as we moved onto fresh, untrodden snow and I began to break trail. As we slowly ascended towards the head of the valley the snow arrived, and with it a disconcerting loss of visibility. Looking at the depth of snow on the ground, and realising we had a decent distance to travel into questionable weather before even thinking about pitching, we decided to retire to the comfort of the local hostelry (besides, it’s good to support the local economy, right?)

Attempting to retrace our steps we discovered that they were long filled – forcing another long period of trail-breaking (maybe it was a bit unfair to let Steve ‘have a go’ when I had snowshoes on) until we reached the traverse that was mildly troubling on the route in. This had transformed into an all together different proposition in the snow and wind, and swapping snowshoes for Kahtoolas and ice axe we moved across the slope gingerly testing every step and preparing to throw ourselves into the deep powder uphill at any hint of a slip, as our ice axes were unlikely to have much effect until they met a lucky patch of frozen turf or something. Reaching safety we paused to watch an elderly fell-runner make the crossing in the other direction, before a snowboarder appeared out of nowhere and promptly fell down the slope after a strong gust. He seemed OK, I guess cushioned by the crazy amount of fresh powder below?! Practicing our plunge-stepping down the gentle slopes above Scales, we quickly reached the car (and a lovely sausage and apple pie) and headed towards the bright lights of Keswick.

It wasn’t quite the wild camp we had planned, but it was close to the pub….. Luckily Steve had a hammer in his car to enable us to get pegs into the rock-hard soil, and I’d thoroughly recommend that all backpackers utilise a Ford Focus as a wind-break. After a few (!) pints of Jennings Cocker Hoop (temporarily brewed in Burton-on-Trent after the recent floods) and a marvellous Steak and Ale pie, we returned to our respective shelters as the temperature dropped well below freezing.

Temperatures dropped to around -6 deg C overnight as the clouds cleared and the wind disappeared – leading to a lovely layer of ice inside and out our flysheets and soggy sleeping bag feet (and chest area in Steve’s case). As Steve hadn’t touched the flysheet through the inner of his double-skinned Akto with his chest, it was surmised that this was a good demonstration of sleeping bag ‘dew point’, where the water vapour emitted during sleep condenses within the insulation and either moistens the bag or freezes and melts later. On a multi-day trip this could get nasty as the moisture accumulates and seriously compromises the ability of a down bag to keep you warm. Hence Vapo(u)r Barrier Liners. More on this in a later post….

With excitement growing at the prospect of a fresh load of snow on the hills and a clear, crisp winter day ahead we decided to remain local and climb the hill overlooking the campsite at Braithwaite – Skiddaw. Not wanting to make it a simple plod up and down the ‘tourist route’, we parked at Oakfield and headed up a footpath towards Dodd summit with daypacks. Leaving the wide and snow-filled forestry tracks we headed up the fresh virgin powder, taking it in turns to create a nice snow-staircase towards the summit of Carl Side. Finding it fairly hard work, we were really pleased to see a fell runner making use of our handiwork (footiwork?) whilst having a conversation on his mobile! Luckily there were plenty of opportunities for ‘photo breaks’ (hard to take photos when you’re wheezing though) with the northern and central fells spread out before us in their white winter coats.

We now met the streams of people that had also decided Skiddaw was appealing, ranging from those in full Everest down jackets and plastic boots to the gentleman from the north-east who was descending rapidly (occasionally head-first) in what appeared to be a lovely pair of brown moccasins. I felt a bit over-dressed in my Inov8s. Again we had a bit of a slog up what is normally a scree slope, following in the compressed footsteps of a lovely lady in a massive pair of plastic boots. At least it gave Steve a chance to do his mountaineer pose:

On the summit, as expected, the 360 degree views were phenomenal, but I’d left my pie in the car so we didn’t linger and quickly headed down towards Broad End. I hate retracing my steps, so seeking an alternative we headed over the edge towards Slades Beck. Once we had passed the pair slogging up, we were able to make better progress with a bit of glissading (and self arrest practice), and we were eventually able to remove our Kahtoolas once we reached the scenic path past the waterfalls and dams below Carsleddam and Doups and into the Millbeck woods to the car.

A quick roast dinner and a pint in the Dog and Gun in Keswick, a brief sprint around the gear shops and it was back to Penrith and a cosy Virgin train for me, and a snowy drive across the country for Steve.

Gear –

I took the Trailstar for this trip – no particular reason other than I just fancied it! I loved the tarp feel, despite being on a campsite it was great to be able to look out at the stars once the cloud cleared. I was forced to resort to my Golite Jam2 pack for the simple reason that I had to attach the Yowies to my pack and neither of my ZPacks have any way of securely fastening them (and I didn’t want to modify them either). I quite enjoyed having the Jam back on my back – I took this on the TGO Challenge and there’s not much to dislike about it really. Otherwise my gear was pretty much identical to my generic winter kitlist and it all worked as it should. I’m still in love with my BPL Beartooth Merino Shorts (now on sale) and Hoody (out of stock) -  both were a revelation and I’ve not tried anything that works this well for me.

I need a bit more time to be able to formulate an accurate impression of the Yowie snowshoes – the conditions at the weekend were not really suited to long-term snowshoe use due to the more ‘technical’ nature of the slopes and (in)consistency of the snow.  In the short time that I have used them they’ve been, as touted, pretty intuitive – you can walk as normal and the deck material flexes slightly with your toes to actually propel you along a bit rather than the ’shuffle’ required for showshoes with lifting heel bindings. My biggest annoyance so far is attaching them to my packs; as they’re wide and short rather than long and thin (as per more conventional snowshoes) they don’t fit on the sides of  a small pack too well. I’ll find a way of lashing them to the front and all will be well. More to follow on these.

I had a great time with Steve, he tolerated some excessive-compulsive photography (“no, no, take it in portrait, got to get the snowshoes in”) my UL lack of food stops (“if we leave early enough we’ll be back in time for a pub lunch, and that saves carrying that heavy food….”)  and didn’t laugh too hard when my mat blew back down the hill or I ended up waist deep in snow. He also has a lot of knowledge of the Lake District and therefore proved a superb tour guide and beer-tasting companion. Steve – thanks.