Geography of memory
19th January 2014
Solnit suggests that time and memory can be explored whilst journeying across geography of the landscape. Where the travel and arrival can stimulate thoughts and recover understanding.
My quick mountain sortie was into the heartland of the Great Langdale valley and ascending the fell where my ashes will one day be spread - Pike o Bliscoe. This mountain sits off centre from the valley and is accompanied by loftier heights, but offers extensive views both down the winding valley and into the deep, rock strewn recesses of Crinkle Crags, Bowfell and the eponymous Langdale Pikes.
Pike o Bliscoe is every bit way a mountain. Every aspect is pyramidal, with the last climb to summit requiring some short, but stiff scrambling over steep, very wet rock that runs with water. These series of rocky ledges have seemed to become more severe to me, but this may well be where age and memory part.
I have climbed this mountain in all weathers and I will always remember (and hold the memory precious) my first time climbing these Fells covered in snow. It was a late November and I awoke to a tent covered in frost and thin crust of snow. Emerging reluctantly from my nylon nest the windy, rain crashing weather of the previous night had now cleared to reveal a dramatic crown of white, sparkling mountains. Each of the surrounding Fells was topped with a thick layer of snow and I knew I had to get up into those mountains to experience the wildness and purity of the scene that surrounded me.
Not only did I need to climb into these hills, engage with this new and exciting environment, but I had to record it. The only problem I had no more film for my camera!!! Therefore, I ran the four miles down the valley and the four miles back (in climbing boots) to hopefully get film from the small village post office. Luckily they had film that fitted my camera, unluckily I had worn blisters into my heels. However, the run back up the valley on urged me on more as the views revealed the pure beauty before me, white clad mountains against a deep, winter blue sky.
The weather did not stay this perfect, but my partner and I climbed Pike O Bliscoe, touched our first mountain snow, were in awe at the views and stirred by the whole experience of place and time.
Today was overcast, cold and wet, with occasional sleet, but my mind was regularly transported back to that first ever time. Each rocky ledge, the wisp of cloud hugging the distant buttress took me back and I felt a deep warmth and gratitude, even if all things pass.
Pike o Bliscoe from Crinkle Crags - taken at another moment of the past
My quick mountain sortie was into the heartland of the Great Langdale valley and ascending the fell where my ashes will one day be spread - Pike o Bliscoe. This mountain sits off centre from the valley and is accompanied by loftier heights, but offers extensive views both down the winding valley and into the deep, rock strewn recesses of Crinkle Crags, Bowfell and the eponymous Langdale Pikes.
Pike o Bliscoe is every bit way a mountain. Every aspect is pyramidal, with the last climb to summit requiring some short, but stiff scrambling over steep, very wet rock that runs with water. These series of rocky ledges have seemed to become more severe to me, but this may well be where age and memory part.
I have climbed this mountain in all weathers and I will always remember (and hold the memory precious) my first time climbing these Fells covered in snow. It was a late November and I awoke to a tent covered in frost and thin crust of snow. Emerging reluctantly from my nylon nest the windy, rain crashing weather of the previous night had now cleared to reveal a dramatic crown of white, sparkling mountains. Each of the surrounding Fells was topped with a thick layer of snow and I knew I had to get up into those mountains to experience the wildness and purity of the scene that surrounded me.
Not only did I need to climb into these hills, engage with this new and exciting environment, but I had to record it. The only problem I had no more film for my camera!!! Therefore, I ran the four miles down the valley and the four miles back (in climbing boots) to hopefully get film from the small village post office. Luckily they had film that fitted my camera, unluckily I had worn blisters into my heels. However, the run back up the valley on urged me on more as the views revealed the pure beauty before me, white clad mountains against a deep, winter blue sky.
The weather did not stay this perfect, but my partner and I climbed Pike O Bliscoe, touched our first mountain snow, were in awe at the views and stirred by the whole experience of place and time.
Today was overcast, cold and wet, with occasional sleet, but my mind was regularly transported back to that first ever time. Each rocky ledge, the wisp of cloud hugging the distant buttress took me back and I felt a deep warmth and gratitude, even if all things pass.
Pike o Bliscoe from Crinkle Crags - taken at another moment of the past