Stuc a' Chroin and Ben Vorich

Stuc a' Chroin and Ben Vorich

Saturday, 11 July 2015

Thursday 9 July - a familiar trio

Note: this post has been put together in dribs and drabs and has suffered accordingly.
We just managed to squeeze the motorvan between two cars at the little quarry car park at Rigg Beck.
After the usual faff getting rucksacks ready and a debate about whether to wear shorts or not, whether I should take my windshirt or Astron Hoodie and whether I had my sun-hat, we set off down the lanes leading to Newlands Church and Low Snab farm.

More debate: the mine track to Dale Head Tarn then to Dale Head, Hindscarth etc or the ziz-zags to Dale Head Mine and onwards or an ascent of Hindscarth via Scope End and onwards. Scope End could not be resisted especially since it was in sun unlike the other alternatives. Every step was, as usual, a delight.

Beyond the initial steepness we exchanged greetings with two other (female) walkers who'd left the car park before us and had stopped for a bite to eat and some water.

Further on a lone figure was descending and we fell into conversation. He told us his wife could no longer walk the fells because of knee problems (I sympathised having had two cartilage ops) so he had set out at 7.30 and was now on his way down (11.30) to meet his wife in Keswick for the day. There was no doubt he was a lover of the Lake District and a kindred spirit.

Before the final pull to the summit, the cold wind had me rummaging for my windshirt and wishing I had brought my Astron Hoodie. No matter how well I think I've packed my sack, whatever I want is always at the bottom, or so it seems. The two walkers met earlier passed by without a word giving the impression that we were in some sort of race. We weren't but if they were, then they lost!

A chat at Hindscarth's cairn with a couple from Kent revealed that
they had started coming to the Lake District when her husband retired and in the last ten years had spent the equivalent of two years on the fells. He was the spitting image of Chris Bonington.
As always on a fine day the view was superb in all directions. We didn't tarry too long, said our goodbyes and soon the summit of Robinson was under our feet. The two 'racers' arrived somewhat later and began their descent while we retraced part of our route to pick up the ridge to Dale Head. A group of Russians, the last to leave the top, marched by carrying massive backpacking sacks speaking loudly in Russian (well they would wouldn't they).

On our way down we noticed that 'Fix the Fells' had been repairing part of the path though neither of us could recall it needing touched when we passed only a year ago. It's going to look raw for while.
As we approached Dale Head Tarn two women asked where the track was (we were on it) and how far it was to Little Town via Dale Head. It transpired they had walked from Keswick, over Catbells, Maiden Moor etc. We helped as much as we could with timings and so on but in the end they decided to accompany us part of the way down the mine track. They were really nice people but unfortunately we couldn't offer them a lift to Keswick since the motorvan has no additional front facing seats.
An enjoyable day with a few pleasant encounters.
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