Thursday 1 October 2009

Following sheep trails...

I learned a long time ago that by far the best way to traverse lakeland is to follow the little worn sheep trails which crisscross their way over the fells, completely ignoring the 'red-dashed line' which cuts across the map at every available angle. For all their stupidity, sheep certainly have an intelligence which is second to none when it comes to crossing the fells. The trails are also not really used by tourists so you're almost certainly guarenteed a quiet day away from the beaten track, following a rather interesting route up though the rocky outcrops and crags.

You'll find the tourists tend to ignore these trails because they're not highlighted on the maps, and heaven forbid you take matters into your own hands and make you own trail up the fell. Though, I could be giving some tourists far too much credit here by allowing them a map and a compass, which I think any regular on the fells can tell you, is not always the case.

I remember some time ago, whilst walking on Great Gable, I arrived back at the Wasdale Head carpark with approximately 3 hours of daylight left in the day. As I walked into the carpark, a chap walked upto me asking which one was Styfell? Now, to his credit, he was at least in the right valley. It was during the time when Julia Bradbury was doing the Wainwright programs, and although I didn't particularly follow them, I'm sure others did.

This did however, leave me with a little confusion because I know the southern and western areas of the lakes quite well...but I have never heard of Styfell! After some pondering, I naturally assumed he meant Steeple, so suggested this to him and pointed in the general direction of Yewbarrow. He said I was wrong and insisted it was called Styfell and after some more pondering he backed up this claim with "You know, the big one." Suddenly, pieces of the jigsaw began to fall into place; he didn't want Styfell...he wanted Scafell Pike. I was prepared to forgive him this little mispronounciation, and pointed him in the direction of Scafell Pike, highlighting the populars routes up; either Corridor Route, or Mickledore. This seemed to draw alot of confusion and so I unshouldered my pack and took at my map showing him a) where we were, b) the summit and c) the routes I'd suggested. He then asked why my map was more detailed than his before reaching into his car and pulling out a road atlas! A bloody road atlas...and he was hoping to navigate his way to the top using this with less than 3 hours of daylight left and heavy clouds rolling in! To say I was speechless is an understatement. I wanted to shake some sense into the guy or at the very least, tell him to get back in his car and go home...but I didn't. I kindly informed him of the time, and then advised him to go into the Wasdale Head Inn and buy a map and compass for the area, and make sure he knows how to use it before setting off.

Needless to say, as I was changing my boots back at my car, I spotted him setting off from his now parked car, towards Great Gable wearing jeans, trainers and a t-shirt. I'm willing to bet my climbing rack that he hadn't been to buy a map and compass from the inn.

Sure enough, it threw down a heavy rain storm that night.