A Walk Up Waun-oer

It wasn’t the most organised we’ve ever been for a walk. We arrived in Barmouth yesterday morning with no firm plan as to where we were going for a walk in the afternoon. Over a late second breakfast in the Milk Bar, Mick suggested Cadair. Admittedly we’ve been up there before, but with the top having been free from cloud as we’d passed by half an hour before, it seemed like a good day for a repeat visit.

On our way back out of Barmouth an hour or so later (having taken a quick trundle up and over Dinas Oleu and back again to fulfil the mission that had taken us to Wales in the first place), Mick changed his mind as to where he wanted to walk, and Waun-oer was where we ended up.

It wasn’t a long walk, and part of the ascent had been achieved by driving up to the parking area at Bwlch Oerddrws (which I’m not counting as being cheating, as it was directly on our route home in any case).

‘Steep’ is how I would describe the first chunk of our route (my steep-o-meter being perhaps a little out of whack having not been near a hill in months), which quickly got the lungs working and the legs turning to jelly (harrumph – so much fitness lost yet again!).

Gaining height pretty quickly, the views soon started to open up. The Rhinog tops were the most obvious feature to the north-west of us, then Mick pointed out that the ridge we could clearly see was the very one that we have walked more than once. As is so often the case with my snap-shots, it’s not overly clear on the photo:

In reality, we could clearly see the sea in the dip on the left of the photo. That’s Rhinog Fach and Fawr on the right.

Again a poor image. In reality Snowdon and the surrounding hills (on the right of this photo) were perfectly obvious.

Where the upness levelled out there was a bit of a ‘wow!’. That’s one steep-sided valley behind me.

Had we looked at the map in any detail at any point before embarking on this walk, we might have been slightly less surprised to come across some old quarry/mine workings:

Beyond the entrance a big hole in the ground had Mick warning me to keep away from the edge (like I didn’t already have my late mother’s voice in my ear telling me the exact same thing)

It seems that I didn’t take any photos for a while, but by-and-by the path got fainter and fainter and we indulged in a bit of yomping with some good-and-proper bog obstacles thrown in for good measure.

A bit of down was necessary between Cribbin Fach and Waun-oer, followed by a rather steep climb on the other side. Our path ran in between the trees and the fence on this photo and (in case I didn’t mention) it was Steep:

I knew it had been a good choice of hill before we got to the top. Waun-oer may not be big, but its position gives excellent 360 degree views. The weather helped, of course (even if it was a bit of a fresh breeze on top).

A quick look at the map at the top didn’t reveal any obvious route back down that was wildly different from the way we had come, although we didn’t exactly retrace our steps. Having made our way back down the madly-steep bit, a cross-country yomp saw us pick up our outward route out just below the mine workings.

I can’t be sure about how far we walked, because we paid so little attention to the map, but it must have been somewhere between 4 and 5 miles, with 1800 feet-ish of ascent. A little outing, but a good stretch of the legs and lungs.

I was glad that I’d carried lunch the whole way. We ate it when we got back to the car.

Waun-oer

A fine day to be atop a fine hill. Behind Mick in the middle distance the Rhinog tops are clear to see and beyond those there's the distinctive shape of Snowdon.
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Stormy Running

It was a horrible journey home from work tonight, with rain that overwhelmed even the crazy-speed setting on the windscreen wipers and drainage that couldn’t cope with the surface water.

Lightning was still flashing and thunder still crashing all around when I got home, but the rain had passed by, so into our matching Ron Hill Tracksters Mick and I changed, ready for a short jog-ette over the local estate (landed-gentry sort of estate that is, in case you’re picturing streets of matching houses).

Mick had already been for his proper run this morning, but volunteered to come out again to accompany me on my trundle. He even had the decency to say that he would run, rather than walking alongside my pathetic attempts at speed.

I’m not quite sure how 90% of the circular route came to be uphill, but I was once again proud of myself for making it up the Big Hill without stopping or walking (well, except for crossing the cattle grids – I draw the line at running over cattle grids!).

That’s three jog-ettes this year now, all of which have fallen in the last 10 days. Even better, there’s no grumbling from the achilles at all.

Sore Thighs On The Chase

Yesterday’s fast walk on the lumpiness of the Chase (after 2 weeks of doing nothing and 2 months of no hills), followed by my small jogette last night, followed by another couple of hours at a blazing pace on the Chase this morning may have been a bit much. I’m not sure that the gardening I did when I got home was entirely wise either. My thighs are protesting quite vocally just now!

As I wasn’t causing Mick to have to loiter in a car park for me today, I took the time to take a few photos.

My attempts to capture the colour of the heather and the greenness of everything else (the bracken is only just starting to die off) failed pretty miserably in their intention:

The colour was much more vibrant than this photo would suggest 

Heather, greenness and blue sky – a good combination

 

Taking a different route to usual today I passed this man-made pool in the beck

Sometime during our Big Walk earlier this year, a series of new signs appeared on the Chase. The bit at the top sets out various useful information for the event of emergencies, and that I understand. But why, if there’s all that text, is there not a short description of the route being marked by the arrows? Apparently, where I had just come from was the long route:

But where I was heading was apparently on the short route:

If only I knew to where it was the long or the short route!

Checking The Progress Of The Seasons

Having bumped along a bumpy track to not-our-usual-car-park on the Chase, Mick and I both set out in the same direction, but at different speeds. As we had driven up, it had been obvious that there was some sort of an orienteering style event going on (since Googled and found to be the final Questars event of the season), and soon Mick was in amongst a group of runners who were clutching laminated maps, whereas I was simply being overtaken.

Mick’s mission was a 5-mile run. I was out for an 8-mile walk. Given that we weren’t on a Welsh hillside as we should have been, my second choice had been to see the change in colours on the Chase – namely the prettiness of the heather in flower before it gets overtaken by the the leaves changing colour.

My intention had been to take lots of photos, but given that there was clearly going to be quite a mismatch of timings between Mick’s run and my longer walk, as I set out I resolved instead to do the walk at top speed, leaving no time to dig the camera out repeatedly.

I was about 5 miles into my walk when Mick texted to tell me he was in the tea-room by the Katyn Memorial. “I’ll be there within 20 minutes” I texted back. And that’s where it all went wrong.

A very nice egg and mushroom sandwich was had with a pot of tea (during which I found out that even though our routes had not been massively dissimilar, the rain was so localised that Mick hadn’t been caught in the short-but-incredibly-heavy shower that had drenched me). And, having enjoyed the food and drink, I found that I could quite bring myself to let Mick sit around in the car for another half an hour or so (or was it just that laziness prevailed?), and so into the car with Mick I got.

Although shorter than intended, that was my first outing on The Chase since the beginning of July, and it reminded me that I need to get over there more in the next couple of months to enjoy the changes that this time of year brings.

(Post Walk Note: although I only covered 6 miles on the Chase, I did run down to the local shop this evening (yes, RAN!), which, together with the walk back, did add on the 2 miles I’d missed earlier)

 

Salomon Exit Aero

Just a quick recap: the nice chaps at Fitness Footwear said “Would you like to try some Salomon shoes” and I said ‘Yes please!”. Mick got the aesthetically unusual after-sports-recovery RX Mocs, whereas I plumped for something more useful for walking: Salomon Exit Aero.

Apparently the colour I got is “Autobahn, Detroit and Ciment Blue”. Personally, I’d call them grey on grey, and that suits me just fine.

Given my reputation for being fastidious about weighing kit, it’s surprising that I didn’t weigh them straight away, but a bit of research on the scales just now has revealed that they weigh just over 330g per shoe, which is within a few grams of being the same weight as my Salomon XA Pros. That meets my initial impression that they’re light as well as pretty flexible. The main differences, to my mind, between my favoured footwear of this year (Inov8 Terrocs and Salomon XA Pros) and the Exit Aeros is that the sole of the Exit Aero is much firmer and the ‘foot opening’ more padded.

The first thing I did after taking them out of the box was to remove the insole – which was no easy job as it was quite comprehensively glued at the toe end – never come across that in a walking shoe before - but then it was also the least shaped version of a footbed I’ve ever seen. Once I’d battled with the footbeds and replaced them with some volume reducers and my Superfeet, the fit was spot on. I didn’t fanny around with easing in to trying them in action: within ten minutes I was out on a 9 mile walk.

Half an hour in and I had completely forgotten that I had new shoes on, which is unheard of for me. I usually obsess about the fit of new footwear for far longer than that!

So, they were quickly established as being right up there as some of the comfiest shoes in my possession, and for three weeks they barely came off my feet. For testing purposes I wore them on every walk, and for comfort purposes they became my choice for knocking-around shoes.

All remained rosy for those weeks too, because the weather was dry, the earth was cracked and the soles appeared to be just fine in terms of grippiness.

Then it was a bit damp underfoot one day (the same day that I battled with cobwebs in my face the whole way along the tow-path, if memory serves), and suddenly I was slipping all over the place on the stoney bits of the path. It didn’t bode well for grip on hillsides, which tend to have more challenging slopes and terrain than the local fields and tow-paths.

Then came the walk when I nearly landed in the canal. I’d just passed under a bridge where the tow-path takes on a bit of a water-wards camber before it flattens out. It was on that camber that one of my feet shot out from under me. With a few other, less significant slips, in the same walk I was unfortunately coming to the conclusion that these shoes are a little lacking in the grip department.

All is not lost. I’ve continued to wear them for local walking, but with an increased degree of care when it’s damp, albeit I might hesitate to choose them for a hilly backpack.

I have no doubt that I will wear them to death in any case. As comfy as they are, they can happily take the place of my (almost worn out) old XA Pros* as my general wear shoes. I’d even go as far as to say that I’d likely choose to buy the same again in the future for general wear.

So, for dedicated walking shoes, there are better options out there, but for knocking-around shoes that are also good for a limited type of walking, I rather like them.

Of course, one thing I’ve not been able to establish yet is longevity. I’ll report back again in some months time.

(*Should I blush to confess that I have three pairs of XA Pros on the go at the moment?)

Salomon RX Mocs

A month ago a large parcel arrived. Receiving a parcel is always good and exciting, but it’s even better when it contains two pairs of shoes that have been sent to you for review.

A week or so earlier the nice chaps at FitnessFootwear had offered us a pair of shoes each in return for our thoughts on them, and this was the awaited parcel. No time was wasted in ripping through the outer packaging and we swiftly sorted out which box was for who. I had requested some good and sensible walking shoes (more about those soon), whereas I volunteered Mick for the rather ‘striking’ Salomon RX Mocs.

Odd looking things, aren’t they? This is what the product description says:

“The RX Moc is a lightweight and comfortable shoe which has an elastic mesh upper which is mated to a cushioned mid and outsole this makes the shoe easy to slip on and off. Very light shoe with a breathable mesh fabric, these are intended to be worn as an after sports shoe, but are also great for relaxing and walking in”

He’s been wearing them for a month now (attracting quite a range of comments, both solicited and unsolicited), and here are his thoughts on them:

As I have been in training for a marathon, it seemed an ideal time to use and review these shoes against the claims made by Salomon that they will assist in recovery after exercise. So the question to be answered was: will they work? And the answer: I think they did. The shock-absorbing, wedge-shaped heel appears to reduce stress on the legs post exercise. They do feel like a comfortable pair of spongy slippers but I doubt that these are the reasons that they will be attractive to any prospective purchasers.

Perhaps a review should be a bit more objective: the shoes are called Salomon RX Mocs, are aimed at the sports market and designed to improve recovery after exercise. They are very light at just over 460g per pair (for a size 8.5 in Salomon sizing), have a wedge-shaped, shock-absorbent heel and come in only one colour – fluorescent yellow. And as a lightweight pair of shoes designed for a limited purpose they are not cheap at almost £50 a pair.

Of course, at this weight they would make a very comfortable pair of camp shoes for backpacking purposes, which would help your feet recover after a day of pounding, and for that purpose the colour and design wouldn’t be such an issue - but I’m not sure that the ‘help your feet recover’ claims could really compete with the cost and weight of the Croc-like shoes that are usually chosen for this purpose.

Would I go for the same shoes again once I’ve worn these out? Well, they’re very comfortable, they fit nicely and they do look, well, interesting. But, I can’t quite get past the obstacle of the colour! They are the same colour as a yellow highlighter pen or the hi-vis jackets that the police wear, which makes ones feet stand out somewhat whenever they are pulled on: they look like you are wearing Day-Glo scuba diving shoes. I have, therefore, in the main, only used them around the house; however, on the occasions when I have ventured outside wearing them I noticed the stares of others at my feet. Maybe it was me just being overly sensitive, but I think not.

I’m sorry, Mr Salomon, I love your shoes and boots. I have many pairs of Salomon shoes for running, hiking and backpacking and used them over thousand of miles. I have put up with some of Salomon’s whacky designs in materials and colours but these are just one step too far for me.

He Made It!

Came 12th in his category too. And achieved a Personal Best*.

(*Okay, so it was his first marathon, so by default it had to be a PB)

 

Marathon Update

Mick was last seen at 1300, at 22.5 miles, looking pretty fresh (and a whole lot fresher than many of those passing at that point), but reporting that "it's hurting now".


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Wolverhampton Marathon

He's getting ready for the off in 15 minutes ... apparently by engaging in the Ministry For Silly Walks
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Carisbrooke Castle

If there's a castle nearby then I want to visit it, so this morning (with Mick still in a state of slight-fuzziheadedness after last night's festivities) we were off bright and early to Carisbrooke Castle.

The castle doesn't disappoint, giving a particularly good visual impact as you enter via the gatehouse.

With a desire to make a brief appearance at the day-after-the-wedding garden-party, and a ferry to catch, our visit was only a couple of hours, but we managed to do a whistlestop tour of most of the features.

And now we're chugging back across the Solent, having not seen the sun (but having experienced plenty of rain) since our outward journey on Friday.
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The Main Event

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Needles Old Battery

One of us was stupid enough to forget her National Trust Membership card. And I'm too tight to pay the admission fee when I have a membership card sitting at home.

So, Mick's currently inside the Needles Old Battery, taking a few photos so that I can see what I'm missing. I'm loitering outside.

Next its uphill to the viewpoint so that I can look down on what I've missed.


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Bobbing

Did I ever mention my strong dislike of ferries?

This one's turning out to be a pleasant surprise (okay, maybe 'pleasant' is a bit of a strong word - it's just not as hideous as expected). The main bonus is that it doesn't smell like a ferry.

In twenty minutes I'll set foot on the Isle of Wight for the first time in knocking on for 30 years.
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Still Here!

Silence has again ruled, hasn’t it?

Considering that we are ‘stay at home slackers’, the last couple of weeks or so have been extraordinarily busy. Things are looking almost as busy going forward.

As a result, my walking mileage (and therefore my fitness) has suffered. It’s the 18th of the month, and thus far I have only walked 75 miles. Absolutely none of it was novel (although talking of novels, I did finally make it through the audio-book of Wolf Hall – my goodness, that was hard work!).

I still hope to break through 1800 miles for the year-to-date by the end of the month.

Mick’s running has not suffered so much (running, by its nature, being a less time consuming endeavour than walking). It was a 20-miler for him on Monday (I met him twice with fresh water bottles and jelly babies, and he was looking good at both points). His marathon is only a couple of weeks away, so his mileages are easing off now.

Other hot news is that Fitness Footwear gave us each a pair of shoes. Mine, which have proved to be incredibly comfortable, have barely been off my feet since they arrived. Mick’s are proving to be a good talking point (with opinions ranging from ‘hideous!’ to ‘cool!’). I will write more about mine soonest.

That photo has absolutely nothing to do with this post. I just picked a photo at random from our K2CW walk to make the post a tiny smidge more colourful.

So Far…

Although all has been quiet around here, I have been getting out and about.

Well, ‘out’, at least.

Since my last posting all of my walks have been from the front door and I’m afraid that there were only so many times I could write about the same routes, and I exceeded that number long ago.

Not that it’s all been uninteresting. With the killer horses being grazed elsewhere this year, one of my abandoned routes (9 or 11 miles, depending what I do when I get to the canal) has become doable again. I do have to trespass to avoid one overgrown bit, have to battle with a field cropped to its boundary and I have been chased by a tribe of completely fearless bullocks every time (so fearless that once I get over the stile I can pat those at the front of the herd on the nose without them flinching), but otherwise I’m happy to have become reacquainted with that route.

I’ve also been beating speed records. Probably a simple case of boredom with the same routes. My record has been averaging 4.25mph over a 7 mile route. It’s not big or clever, but in the absence of hills, I guess that it’s keeping a small amount of fitness intact – which is the main aim of the outings.

Even with a bit of a drop-off in July, the year so far looks like this from a monthly mileage point of view:

All being well (touching wood, praying to the God of Uninjuriedness and all that), by the end of August I should have exceeded my previous highest calendar-year mileage.

At some point, I may even do something worthy of writing about.

 

Fearless bullocks 

I didn’t mention the ‘field of thistles’ did I? I have now found the least prickly route through, but it still involves five minutes of dense thistles.

Dales High Way Photos

The weather wasn’t great for a non-photographer to take passable shots, but here are the pick of a (mainly bad) bunch:

Day 1

On Draughton Moor, heading towards Skipton: Looking down to Skipton (and looking forward to a cup of tea):

Popping over a well-built (and quite tall) stile (on Day 3 of the trip we climbed over what felt like dozens of ladder stiles, which had superseded adjacent wall stiles; most of those ladder stiles were too narrow to allow a person with a backpack to turn around to descend backwards. Not a problem for me, as I usually descend forwards or sideways – but it caused a few tights shuffles for Mick):

That pimple on the landscape ahead is Sharp Haw, up which we’re headed just as four other groups are on their ways back to their cars:

The near lump is Rough Haw, taken from the top of Sharp Haw. That’s the direction in which we’re headed next:

Low water in Winterburn Reservoir. That boat house (on the right) isn’t going to be much use just now:

Toptastic campsite location at Gordale Scar, albeit the toilet facilities and yard area could do with a bit of a clean-up. It seems that no rubbish left by a camper has ever been thrown away, it’s just all been stacked and hoarded.

Day 2:

After a series of multi-faffs, which saw the first mile take the best part of an hour, we finally got into our stride and up onto Ewe Moor, giving good views (even though the photo doesn’t illustrate it well!) back to Malham Tarn: Along this By-Way the National Park is filling in troughs in the ground by dumping loose aggregate into them. Didn’t strike me as a sympathetic way of rectifying erosion, but then it’s not a subject about which I know anything, so I’ll trust that the National Park knows what its doing:

Great Scar, Settle Scar and Attermire Scar, just before Settle:

Heading down to Settle. It was about this point that we started to hear a pot of tea calling our names:

Having dragged ourselves away from the food and drink of Settle, we reached Stainforth Force, where Mick posed for a picture:

So did I, although what I first notice from this photo isn’t the waterfall or the bridge, but the bad hair day I seem to be having!

Day 3:

Not great weather as we cross the Clapper Bridge beyond Wharfe. Apparently it’s a popular spot, but not that early on a grey day:

Two trees stand in the vast limestone pavement (in the pissing rain), just below Ingleborough. Again, the snapshot doesn’t come close to doing it justice:

Not long afterwards the decision was made to make the mad dash for the early train, and with the weather being decidedly wet during the descent, and with us being in such a rush, the camera didn’t see the light of day again on this trip.

Little Stainforth to Horton

Thurs 15 July
Distance: 8.5 miles

We're thinking of rebranding ourselves: 'Fair Weather Walkers Am We'...

It was another wet and blustery night, but once again the rain obliged us by stopping shortly before we depitched, and just before 7am we were striding in the direction of Feizor.

Feizor boasts a tea room which is, apparently, open 7 days a week, but 7.30 was a bit early for it. That might have been quite upsetting had I not managed to wring just enough gas out of our failing canister to make 2 cups before we set out.

Onwards to Wharfe we went on obvious paths and tracks, and from the hamlet a nice walled track was picked up. Overgrown in places, it gave our legs a bit of a soaking, but it was so warm that the dampness was not uncomfortable.

A significant multi-faff (all mine) at Clapper Bridge (of which I should have taken a photo with my phone, but didn't think of it at the time), allowed us to cool down a bit before we started the next bit of ascent: over the limestone pavements to Ingleborough.

The rain started as we crossed those pavements, but even in the damp conditions we could appreciate the impressive geological features. It's definitely worth taking that route.

With rain still falling, and with the top of Ingleborough heavily clad in cloud, I gave Mick 2 options: 1) go up Ingleborough, as he's never been to the top; or 2) leave the top and the rest of the route for a better day and hot-foot it down to Horton for the 10.30 train.

Mick opted for the latter, even though we knew we were cutting it rather fine for the train.

The path was much trickier in the wet than it had been when I flew down it 3 weeks ago, and a pause was had for Mick to don waterproofs when the heavems really opened, but with some serious dedication to pace we made it to the station with a whole 2 minutes to spare (phew - it would have been a 3 hour wait for the next train).

And who, by coincidence, should we find on the platform, but Trentham Walker (who, you may recall, I bumped into in Malham when I passed through a month ago). I'm not sure if he's stalking me or the other way around!

So, our trip ended slightly prematurely (the intention had been to reach Dent on this outing), but as it goes we've split the entire route nicely. Another time we can return to Horton and spend another 3 days reaching the end of the route at Appleby.
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Gordale Scar to Little Stainforth

Wednesday 14 July
Distance: 10.5 miles

It was a wet and blustery night, but aside from vaguely waking occasionally when the tent was shaking violently, a good night's sleep was had (a comfortable one too, on my newly acquired POE Insul Mat Max Thermo).

By the time we had succumbed to a lazy lie-in this morning, the rain had stopped and there was even blue to be seen in the sky. Slowly we pulled ourselves together, but by the time we were ready for the off, at 8.30, the sky was again looking rather dull and rain laden.

On Ewe Moor we caught up with 4 of the large group of army chaps who had been at the campsite in the Orange Tent City. After a bit of chat, Mick asked whether their packs were heavy. "Yes" they all said, and one added "35". "Thirty-five pounds?" said Mick. "No, kilos" said the army chap "so about 70lbs". We stood open mouthed. Mick asked if he could try to lift one. Continuing on our way a while later I asked him how monstrously heavy it was. "About 15 kilos, maybe 20" he said.

Having enjoyed excellent views back to Malham Tarn as we made our way over the moor, we started to approach the various Scars to the east of Settle and our already leisurely progress was slowed further. Some sheep gathering was going on ahead of us and not wanting to get in the way and accidentally scatter the sheep, we happily stood and watched for 20 minutes as the couple and the single dog brought in an entire flock off the moor. The dog was exhausted by the end of it, and seemed quite pleased when it wasn't made to chase the single lamb which made a bolt for freedom at the last minute.

Some refuelling took place in Settle, and Mick parted with some cash in exchange for Sorbothane foot beds, which he cut to pieces before even leaving the shop, then it was onwards, up the River Ribble.

Past Stainforth Force we went (perhaps it's just me, but I have real trouble saying Stainforth Force and getting 'forth' and 'force' in the right places!), and to the campsite just a handful of paces further on. It's not where we'd originally intended to stay tonight. We should have walked further, but I really wanted a nice shower, which was available here but not at our planned destination.

It was a good decision. The rain, which had held off the whole time we had been walking, struck the moment we had the tent up. Excellent timing for the second day in a row. This luck can't last, can it?

(Carol, JJ, LIAF - thanks for the confirmations that I wasn't making up words!)
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Ilkley to Gordale Scar

Tuesday 13 July
Distance: 20.5 miles

Two late changes were made to my plan for this trip, one following from the other. Based on Saturday's weather forecast for the upcoming week, I voiced the possibility of delaying my departure by a day so as to get the best of a not-great looking week's weather. Mick in turn decided that if I delayed the trip until Tuesday, then he could come along.

And so it was the two of us that strode out of Ilkley train station this morning, after an early start, to walk a chunk of the Dales High Way.

It wasn't a bad day for it. Cloudy it was, but pleasantly warm and only a moderate breeze. However, we knew that we had quite a distance to go, and that rain was forecast from about 4pm, so we wasted no time heading off towards Skipton.

The track from Addingham to Skipton was pleasing, being well defined and having sufficient elevation to give a good view, and arriving in Skipton it seemed reasonable to seek out a tea room. We went in the first we found, which was right at the far end of the town, and then found after we left that there are five more within ten paces after that.

Four sets of people were met coming down off the lump-in-the-landscape that is Sharp Haw as we made our way up at just after 1pm. It was a false representation of how busy our route was as not another person was then seen until we passed the almost-empty Winterburn Reservoir where three mothers with babies strapped to them were heading the other way.

The climb up to the second trig point of the day, atop The Weets, seemed never ending, so long and gentle was it. The descent was somewhat faster, thanks to its knee-killing steepness.

By this time there was rain to the west and to the south of us and we were clearly on borrowed time until it hit.

We were lucky. It was about 200 yards before the campsite when it started to drizzle, and the worst of the shower held off until the tent was up.

Our position on the campsite was decided by the presence of two groups here, one of which is rather a big one with lots of matching orange ridge tents. We've pitched about as far away as we can get, alongside the families, and so far from the facilities that most people with a car would probably drive to them.

The benefit of being so far up the campsite is that we're almost in Gordale Scar, which is a mighty fine natural feature indeed. From the point of view of picturesqueness*, there are certainly worse places to camp.

(*made up word alert)
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