Captain's Log

Robinson

I woke up with the distinct impression that I was being tumbled around in a washing machine. It wasn’t just that everything seemed to be moving around me, but it was also the whooshing and clattering noise as if somebody had put a sock full of pennies into the wash by mistake. I grabbed my headtorch and had a look around. My tent was being battered by a gale. Amazingly the tent poles hadn’t buckled under the strain. The guy lines were making interesting harmonic noises. Wind driven rain varied from loud to deafening in a series of waves. I looked at my watch; it was 02:00 am. I was surprised I’d slept for 5 hours through this. I decided to do an internal integrity check on the tent and started lighting up areas of its interior to see if there were any leaks. Sure enough, at the windward end of the tent near to my head, the floor of the tent was soaked. This had happened to me before and I think it's a feature of a MSR Hubba NX. In strong winds, the rain appears to vortex under the outer tent and splatter the inner tent. Eventually this seeps through inside. I retrieved my micro-towel out of my rucksack and mopped it up. I then used it as an improvised dam across the end of the tent to stop further water seeping in and across its floor. I looked at the BBC weather app; it said light winds and light rain for the rest of the day, pretty much as it had told me last night when I pitched. If this was light winds and rain, I wouldn’t want to be caught in strong winds and heavy rain. To be fair, I suppose I was over 700m above sea level, near to the summit of Robinson. Maybe things were a bit tamer down in the Buttermere valley. Apart from my enthusiasm for camping, nothing had broken yet, and so I decided to wait until daylight before making a move. I drifted off back to sleep. My capacity to sleep under such conditions amazed me. 

Little Dale

The first signs of daylight woke me up at around 05:30. It was still windy and raining hard. I wolfed down a couple of biscuits for a bit of energy for the ordeal to come. At least it wasn’t cold. I donned my waterproofs in the tent before venturing outside. In a short period where the wind and rain seemed to ease I unzipped the door and manoeuvred myself out of the tent. For some reason I’d expected to be surrounded in thick mist, but the tops of the hills over towards Grasmoor were all visible. I didn’t hang about packing up the tent. This was my last day on the first part of my Bob Graham Round (BGR) Venture and so I wasn’t bothered if my inner tent got wet; I’d dry it out when I got home. By the time I’d everything packed away in my rucksack my waterproofs were soaked. I was really glad that it wasn’t cold. I set off towards Robinson’s northeast ridge. The sooner I got off the hill, the better.

The BGR fell runners take a path that diverts from the main ridge into Little Dale. The path was clearly shown on the OS map. I’d walked along Robinson’s northeast ridge before and I remembered that there were quite a few scrambly sections that would have been difficult in today’s conditions and with a large, heavy rucksack. I decided to give this alternative Little Dale route a go. There wasn’t an obvious point where a path diverted from the ridge path and I ended up just following my gpx track of the route. I was surprised and frustrated that there seemed to be no evidence of a route. I could see from the OS map that the track eventually descended some steep looking crags. As I approached from above I could see that there was a hefty drop. Given that I’d found no track on the approach to the crags, I didn’t really fancy descending some steep crags that I’d not tackled before.  I didn’t much like the idea of descending Robinson’s northeast ridge path, but at least it was a known quantity. I climbed my way back up to the ridge path. 

Ridge Path

The ridge path was indeed grim on a day like this. The crags felt like soap as I shuffled my way down. The wind and rain conspired to blow me off the ridge. There were some potentially serious drops on either side and so some care was needed. There was one particular crag which I was able to bypass using an airy track on the Little Dale side. I was relieved when I reached the bottom of the crags and easier ground along the rest of the ridge. Looking back, I could see that the top of Robinson was still free from mist. Eventually the ridge path along High Snab Bank ended and I descended to the valley floor through a forest of ferns. I passed by the cottages at Low Snab at around 07:15. I’m not sure what any residents made of the bedraggled, waterlogged figure that squelched by their window at such an early hour. 

Road Walking

I reached tarmac and things became much easier. The wind had dropped and the rain wasn’t horizontal. Maybe this was the what BBC app meant when it forecast light rain and winds. I followed country lanes that were pleasantly absent of traffic. I passed the quaint Newlands School that closed its doors to pupils in 1968. A sign on its walls said that it was restored in 2000 and was now dedicated as ‘a place for quiet and reflection.’ I plodded on, making good time along the tarmac. I passed through Little Town. It was certainly ‘little’, but I wouldn’t have classified the half dozen buildings as a town. I missed a shortcut turning at Ghyll Bank and ended up road walking a longer route to Skelgill. The road ran out just beyond, and I joined a woodland trail. 

Last Stretch

I entered the woods just in time since the rain pounded even heavier and the trees provided me with a bit of protection. There were other walkers out braving the elements which surprised me. I missed another turn and ended up extending my journey by half a kilometer by including the boat yard at Nichol End. One of the boats being stored was called Nightstorm, which seemed fairly apt given last night’s wild experience on the top of Robinson. I joined a road again and some pavement walking brought me into Portinscale. A footbridge took me over the River Derwent and I joined a long wide track that led to Keswick. The BGR fell runners must feel so relieved at that sight.
‘Do you know how long it takes to walk into Keswick?’ The question came from a fellow in his 50s who approached me with his pooch from the direction of Keswick. This confused me; hadn't he just walked from there? I pointed out the collection of buildings a quarter of a mile away and told him that was Keswick.
‘I know, but how long will it take me to walk there?’ he pleaded. I stood back and looked both him and his dog up and down. They could both do with shedding a few pounds.
‘About 10 minutes’ I told him. 'That's only an estimate though.'  He seemed happy with that and he waddled off dragging his dog behind him.    

Further along the path I came across quite an interesting sign attached to a fence. It said that the field beyond was known as the Howrahs and had been owned by Edward Stephenson (1691-1768) who had been a governor of Bengal. Howrah was a suburb of Calcutta. He returned to England to live in Keswick in the Governor’s House on Lake Road and he renamed this area as the Howrahs. So now you know!

Keswick

It was quite a culture shock entering the centre of Keswick after 6 days in the wilderness. The rain hadn’t put off the potterers and punters. I waded through them to Byrsons and treated myself to a veggie pasty. I wandered up the market place to the Moot Hall. This is where the BGR fell runners set off and finish. The hall was also the termination of the first part of my BGR Venture too. I circled the hall and then made my way back down the market place to the bus interchange outside Booths supermarket.  

It’s an odd schedule that Stagecoach run for the 555 route between Keswick and Windermere. The 10:30 I joined from Keswick got me to the Windermere railway station 5 minutes after the hourly train had left for Oxenholme. I could have dismissed this as a bit of bad luck, if the bus had been delayed due to bad traffic. The roads had been clear though. The only delay had been at Grasmere when the driver stopped the bus and stepped outside to have a smoke on his electric pipe and make a lengthy phone call on his mobile. If it hadn’t been for this interruption, the passengers would have arrived at Windermere railway station on time and caught the train. Now, with an hour to spare and in order to escape the heavy rain, I joined the mad dash to the Booths supermarket café next to the station. I grabbed a coffee and a large slice of chocolate cake to pass the time and so I guess I shouldn’t moan too much.    

It had turned out to be a wet and wild affair on my last day of the first part of my BGR Venture. The slippery retreat down Robinson’s northeast ridge wasn’t one that I’d want to repeat. I have made a note to explore that Little Dale 'path' at some point. I reckon that approaching it from below would give a better assessment of those steep crags that it ascends through.  The first part of this Venture had covered the more difficult section of the BGR in my view. I’m looking forward to covering the second part of the BGR in the near future.