After a hearty breakfast of kippers and roast tomatoes, Dan and I set off to tackle the third highest peak in England, at 950 m - Helvellyn. With a vague map of the route in hand, we departed the lakeside town of Glenridding, beginning our climb, trying to discern one way from another by the vague instruction on our 80 p map from the tourist information centre that provided 'estimated walk duration' instead of distance travelled. Useless. We meandered our way to the first peak, which marked the beginning of our stretch along Striding Edge, the narrow toothy arete you see pictured - birds eye view as I perched alongside the drop from Helvellyn itself. We sat for lunch and considered Striding Edge once more, as there was an alternate route to Helvellyn via Swirrel Edge; but we could see people forging ahead along the arete and figured, hey, no problem. Indeed, it proved to be one of the toughest and frightening feats I've accomplished. Without a clear map of the Edge we relied on walkers ahead, some clearly more experienced, to determine the best route along. While Dan and I clambered carefully, trembling and clinging to every rock for our lives, regulars on the summit strolled passed casually as if there wasn't a several hundred foot drop below them. We reached a tipping point when I found myself scrambling down a vertical overhanging a drop and then descending in front of the final 200 m climb which looked as though it had suffered a recent avalanche. Seriously. At least the fallen rocks provided somewhat of a staircase, or at least plenty of options for grips and holds. In the end, we stuck nearer the grassy ledges, however, as they seemed more secure than the loose piles of rock. An orange strip of warning fence marked the top of the climb, - we made it, and were welcomed by a spectacular panorama of mountain tops, lakes and patches of forest under a mid afternoon haze - amazing - and a hungry sheep who tried to nip my raisins and peanuts! A few shots to prove we were there and a moment's rest to stop our knocking knees. Instead of descending via Swirell Edge we avoided another scramble and took Lower Helvellyn which probably added a good couple miles to the route - but we're endurance athletes after all and not rock climbers. (But we were today.)
Sunday, June 20, 2010
06.20 STRIDING EDGE
After a hearty breakfast of kippers and roast tomatoes, Dan and I set off to tackle the third highest peak in England, at 950 m - Helvellyn. With a vague map of the route in hand, we departed the lakeside town of Glenridding, beginning our climb, trying to discern one way from another by the vague instruction on our 80 p map from the tourist information centre that provided 'estimated walk duration' instead of distance travelled. Useless. We meandered our way to the first peak, which marked the beginning of our stretch along Striding Edge, the narrow toothy arete you see pictured - birds eye view as I perched alongside the drop from Helvellyn itself. We sat for lunch and considered Striding Edge once more, as there was an alternate route to Helvellyn via Swirrel Edge; but we could see people forging ahead along the arete and figured, hey, no problem. Indeed, it proved to be one of the toughest and frightening feats I've accomplished. Without a clear map of the Edge we relied on walkers ahead, some clearly more experienced, to determine the best route along. While Dan and I clambered carefully, trembling and clinging to every rock for our lives, regulars on the summit strolled passed casually as if there wasn't a several hundred foot drop below them. We reached a tipping point when I found myself scrambling down a vertical overhanging a drop and then descending in front of the final 200 m climb which looked as though it had suffered a recent avalanche. Seriously. At least the fallen rocks provided somewhat of a staircase, or at least plenty of options for grips and holds. In the end, we stuck nearer the grassy ledges, however, as they seemed more secure than the loose piles of rock. An orange strip of warning fence marked the top of the climb, - we made it, and were welcomed by a spectacular panorama of mountain tops, lakes and patches of forest under a mid afternoon haze - amazing - and a hungry sheep who tried to nip my raisins and peanuts! A few shots to prove we were there and a moment's rest to stop our knocking knees. Instead of descending via Swirell Edge we avoided another scramble and took Lower Helvellyn which probably added a good couple miles to the route - but we're endurance athletes after all and not rock climbers. (But we were today.)
