An Alpine Transition
30th January 2015
30th Jan
An alpine transition
It always amazes me that the Lake District Fells can have completely separate and different characters depending on the time of year or type of weather. Sometimes the Fells can be grey rounded looking 'hills', smothered in a thick blanket of bracken and mist; another time to be bright, colourful, offering stark outlined ridges and tops, that stand out against the fast moving clouds. Then there are days when the Fell slopes are filled with sparkling, crashing waters. Then there is times like today, when the snow fills every gully, rolls across every field and meadow and where the snow forms weird , wind created sculptures on summits. On these days the Fells grow in height, they are standing on tip toe, showing off. On this type of day you could believe a piece of the Alps has moored itself to the north west corner of England.
When I set out on a day like this I am often experiencing feelings of both excitement and trepidation as I do not yet know how demanding and risk filled the conditions will be. Each metre gained can produce quite a marked change in the nature of the snow and ice. I might start off experiencing only a sparse covering of snow which then, as I ascend, becomes deep and soft, making each step an effort. As height is gained, or a shadowed corner is encountered, the snow can change into a hard and concrete like surface, peppered with ice covered rocks. In these situation every step threatens to slip and throw you down the now, suddenly realised - vertical slope.
I have set off a number of times to eventually be taken from a feeling of calm, gentle enjoyment to suddenly being pushed to the extreme limits of my comfort zone. This is often due to the conditions I meet as they drastically, and unpredictably change. The benign, gentle slopes climbed in summer have changed into steep walls of ice and snow, where each step becomes more vertical, where you suddenly realise you are looking back down the mountain from between your legs. Seeing the world this way can be both exciting and also a bit worrying as the result of any fall becomes alarmingly obvious.
Today was no exception as the landscape changed with every step. I was heading into familiar territory, but it now seemed alien and threatening due to the deep snow and thick ice. Added to this I was very aware that the wind would be very strong as I could hear it's ferocity high above me as it crashed across the mountains summit.
However, the relative calm of the steep cove I was climbing meant I could at least enjoy the ascent and not be too distracted from what I was doing. A wind like today knocks you about and makes you cold, as it finds any exposed skin, or weaknesses in the clothing armour. This discomfort can make for bad decision making.
I was climbing in Gill Cove towards Levers Hause, a normally benign, though steep pass that leads onto the main ridge of the Coniston Fells. From here I was to aim for the summit of Swirl How, that sits over the steep crags of Broad Slack and Great Carrs, as they tumble down amidst boulders and vertical buttresses to the Greenburn Valley. Finally, venture off to Grey Friar, a whale like summit just off the main ridge, then returning down the ridge of Wet Side Edge to Little Langdale.
The climb to Levers Hause was steep and full of hard snow, meaning the use of an axe and crampons were a boon. On reaching the main ridge I was hit with the thunderous wind I had been aware of. The wind had blown much of the snow off the ridge, leaving a thick, slippery covering of ice. I was instantly cold and didn't want to hang around too much, however I managed to take a few shaky photos.
The process of taking these images meant my hands became very cold. So cold in fact I couldn't get my gloves back on as my fingers were too numb to feel anything. When my hands eventually warmed up they hurt as the warm blood pumped back into the deeply chilled muscles and joints.
Once I dropped on to the Wet side Edge ridge I was once again out of the worst of the wind. This allowed me to take more pictures and as it was now getting near dusk, enjoy a wild winter sunset.
The day was wild and even though I had crossed this ground many times before, the conditions meant at times I felt very vulnerable. It is in times like this, in winter, with snow all around that the Lakes is a true mountain environment and one that deserves great respect.
An alpine transition
It always amazes me that the Lake District Fells can have completely separate and different characters depending on the time of year or type of weather. Sometimes the Fells can be grey rounded looking 'hills', smothered in a thick blanket of bracken and mist; another time to be bright, colourful, offering stark outlined ridges and tops, that stand out against the fast moving clouds. Then there are days when the Fell slopes are filled with sparkling, crashing waters. Then there is times like today, when the snow fills every gully, rolls across every field and meadow and where the snow forms weird , wind created sculptures on summits. On these days the Fells grow in height, they are standing on tip toe, showing off. On this type of day you could believe a piece of the Alps has moored itself to the north west corner of England.
When I set out on a day like this I am often experiencing feelings of both excitement and trepidation as I do not yet know how demanding and risk filled the conditions will be. Each metre gained can produce quite a marked change in the nature of the snow and ice. I might start off experiencing only a sparse covering of snow which then, as I ascend, becomes deep and soft, making each step an effort. As height is gained, or a shadowed corner is encountered, the snow can change into a hard and concrete like surface, peppered with ice covered rocks. In these situation every step threatens to slip and throw you down the now, suddenly realised - vertical slope.
I have set off a number of times to eventually be taken from a feeling of calm, gentle enjoyment to suddenly being pushed to the extreme limits of my comfort zone. This is often due to the conditions I meet as they drastically, and unpredictably change. The benign, gentle slopes climbed in summer have changed into steep walls of ice and snow, where each step becomes more vertical, where you suddenly realise you are looking back down the mountain from between your legs. Seeing the world this way can be both exciting and also a bit worrying as the result of any fall becomes alarmingly obvious.
Today was no exception as the landscape changed with every step. I was heading into familiar territory, but it now seemed alien and threatening due to the deep snow and thick ice. Added to this I was very aware that the wind would be very strong as I could hear it's ferocity high above me as it crashed across the mountains summit.
However, the relative calm of the steep cove I was climbing meant I could at least enjoy the ascent and not be too distracted from what I was doing. A wind like today knocks you about and makes you cold, as it finds any exposed skin, or weaknesses in the clothing armour. This discomfort can make for bad decision making.
I was climbing in Gill Cove towards Levers Hause, a normally benign, though steep pass that leads onto the main ridge of the Coniston Fells. From here I was to aim for the summit of Swirl How, that sits over the steep crags of Broad Slack and Great Carrs, as they tumble down amidst boulders and vertical buttresses to the Greenburn Valley. Finally, venture off to Grey Friar, a whale like summit just off the main ridge, then returning down the ridge of Wet Side Edge to Little Langdale.
The climb to Levers Hause was steep and full of hard snow, meaning the use of an axe and crampons were a boon. On reaching the main ridge I was hit with the thunderous wind I had been aware of. The wind had blown much of the snow off the ridge, leaving a thick, slippery covering of ice. I was instantly cold and didn't want to hang around too much, however I managed to take a few shaky photos.
The process of taking these images meant my hands became very cold. So cold in fact I couldn't get my gloves back on as my fingers were too numb to feel anything. When my hands eventually warmed up they hurt as the warm blood pumped back into the deeply chilled muscles and joints.
Once I dropped on to the Wet side Edge ridge I was once again out of the worst of the wind. This allowed me to take more pictures and as it was now getting near dusk, enjoy a wild winter sunset.
The day was wild and even though I had crossed this ground many times before, the conditions meant at times I felt very vulnerable. It is in times like this, in winter, with snow all around that the Lakes is a true mountain environment and one that deserves great respect.