Despite hoping to get away around lunchtime, Mrs Cumbrian managed to find me plenty to do before I could pack the car and leave. As it was, Steve and I arrived at the lake within five minutes of each other, despite having travelled from opposite sides of Cumbria. Before long, the canoes were packed, and we were on the water by half two, having to break the ice to get out of the marina.
Skiddaw:
As the weather was so good, we kept our plans open as to where to camp, as we expected the more popular sites to be occupied. However, apart from our two canoes, all we saw on the lake was a couple of fishing boats, the launch and two people in sea kayaks. There was also a group of kids with adult leaders on St Herberts Island but they soon departed when they heard the dinner gong from Hawse End centre.
Looking South:
The Jaws of Borrowdale:
Having stopped on the way to collect firewood from a bay where driftwood collects, all we had to do when we got to our campsite was unload the boats and put the hammocks and tarps up. It nearly got a bit Brokeback Mountain when the zip on Steves salopettes decided to pack in but I was spared the mental scars as I was facing the other way at the time.
When this was done, I started to make something that Id brought a specially selected stick along for. Id wanted a pole that I can use while kneeling in the canoe, that also double as a crude paddle for when the water gets too deep for a pole. Its a fairly thick stick, with the narrow end used and shaped as a basic grip, and the thicker end flattened out, but still with enough strength to use as a pole.
When it was properly dark, we sat down around the fire and opened the beer and whisky. As wed found a birch log, I didnt use firelighters and matches as is my usual ( lazy ) habit, but I started the fire with birchbark and a spark rod. I was a bit dubious about the birchbark as it had a layer of frost under it after I peeled it off the log, but the stuff never ceases to amaze me as it took after a couple of strikes. The fire was soon roaring away,
and I was glad that Id brought a firebox because it encourages good fire husbandry, especially during the long nights of winter. I dont know why it is, but just as chips taste better out of paper, whisky always tastes better when sat around a campfire. The food situation improved greatly when Steve announced that hed brought some pre-microwaved potatoes to be finished off in the embers and a flask full of chilli. Preceded by some oatcakes accompanied by chilli flavoured olives, we were well set up survive the night.
As we were sat chatting by the fire, I told Steve that I didnt think that it was as cold as it had been recently, and that I wasnt even sure if it was below freezing. He thought that it was around the freezing point, maybe a little below, but not by much. After Steve crashed I took some self portraits ( these are the least bad )
and turned in myself. I was using my new hammock cocoon, but I just couldnt get away with it. Theres no fault with the design or workmanship, I think Im just a bit too wide for it. Plus the fact that I was happy to free myself from the tyranny of zips when I got my under blanket and quilt, it felt like a backward step to be zipping myself in. Apart from cold feet though ( note to self, get some bivvy boots ), I was warm enough and didnt get out of my pit until about half eight.
The first surprise of the morning came when I tried to take a drink out of the bottle of cola that Id kept by the hammock and found it frozen. No matter, I just about managed to get enough liquid water out of the water container, which had been left near the fireplace, to fill the Kelly Kettle for coffee.
The second surprise of the morning came when I looked through the trees towards the lake and noticed that there were no waves. I walked down to the shore and was amazed to see the water frozen to about twenty feet offshore. I went back up to our camp and told Steve that it was a good job that wed brought more alcohol and food than necessary, as we were iced in. He didnt believe me at first, but after looking for himself and realising that it was frozen, but that wed be able to break out, phoning our wives and telling them that we were stuck wasnt really an option.
Looking South:
Looking North:
After packing up, we had a beautiful paddle back in perfect conditions.
Yours truly:
Rampsholme Island:
Catbells:
Heading back:
There was some thin ice over a large part of the lake, but nothing serious until we got back to the marina. The usual approach that wed used the previous day was completely iced over, so we tried the outer landing. It was still a bit of a struggle to get to the slipway, and I had to employ the kneeling pole that Id made the night before.
Speaking to a friend later that day, he said that he was driving along the A66 past Keswick at nine oclock in the morning, and his cars thermometer said that it was -7° C.
As far as Im concerned, it just shows the warming power of chilli and whisky.
All the best everyone, and Happy New Year.
Skiddaw:
As the weather was so good, we kept our plans open as to where to camp, as we expected the more popular sites to be occupied. However, apart from our two canoes, all we saw on the lake was a couple of fishing boats, the launch and two people in sea kayaks. There was also a group of kids with adult leaders on St Herberts Island but they soon departed when they heard the dinner gong from Hawse End centre.
Looking South:
The Jaws of Borrowdale:
Having stopped on the way to collect firewood from a bay where driftwood collects, all we had to do when we got to our campsite was unload the boats and put the hammocks and tarps up. It nearly got a bit Brokeback Mountain when the zip on Steves salopettes decided to pack in but I was spared the mental scars as I was facing the other way at the time.
When this was done, I started to make something that Id brought a specially selected stick along for. Id wanted a pole that I can use while kneeling in the canoe, that also double as a crude paddle for when the water gets too deep for a pole. Its a fairly thick stick, with the narrow end used and shaped as a basic grip, and the thicker end flattened out, but still with enough strength to use as a pole.
When it was properly dark, we sat down around the fire and opened the beer and whisky. As wed found a birch log, I didnt use firelighters and matches as is my usual ( lazy ) habit, but I started the fire with birchbark and a spark rod. I was a bit dubious about the birchbark as it had a layer of frost under it after I peeled it off the log, but the stuff never ceases to amaze me as it took after a couple of strikes. The fire was soon roaring away,
and I was glad that Id brought a firebox because it encourages good fire husbandry, especially during the long nights of winter. I dont know why it is, but just as chips taste better out of paper, whisky always tastes better when sat around a campfire. The food situation improved greatly when Steve announced that hed brought some pre-microwaved potatoes to be finished off in the embers and a flask full of chilli. Preceded by some oatcakes accompanied by chilli flavoured olives, we were well set up survive the night.
As we were sat chatting by the fire, I told Steve that I didnt think that it was as cold as it had been recently, and that I wasnt even sure if it was below freezing. He thought that it was around the freezing point, maybe a little below, but not by much. After Steve crashed I took some self portraits ( these are the least bad )
and turned in myself. I was using my new hammock cocoon, but I just couldnt get away with it. Theres no fault with the design or workmanship, I think Im just a bit too wide for it. Plus the fact that I was happy to free myself from the tyranny of zips when I got my under blanket and quilt, it felt like a backward step to be zipping myself in. Apart from cold feet though ( note to self, get some bivvy boots ), I was warm enough and didnt get out of my pit until about half eight.
The first surprise of the morning came when I tried to take a drink out of the bottle of cola that Id kept by the hammock and found it frozen. No matter, I just about managed to get enough liquid water out of the water container, which had been left near the fireplace, to fill the Kelly Kettle for coffee.
The second surprise of the morning came when I looked through the trees towards the lake and noticed that there were no waves. I walked down to the shore and was amazed to see the water frozen to about twenty feet offshore. I went back up to our camp and told Steve that it was a good job that wed brought more alcohol and food than necessary, as we were iced in. He didnt believe me at first, but after looking for himself and realising that it was frozen, but that wed be able to break out, phoning our wives and telling them that we were stuck wasnt really an option.
Looking South:
Looking North:
After packing up, we had a beautiful paddle back in perfect conditions.
Yours truly:
Rampsholme Island:
Catbells:
Heading back:
There was some thin ice over a large part of the lake, but nothing serious until we got back to the marina. The usual approach that wed used the previous day was completely iced over, so we tried the outer landing. It was still a bit of a struggle to get to the slipway, and I had to employ the kneeling pole that Id made the night before.
Speaking to a friend later that day, he said that he was driving along the A66 past Keswick at nine oclock in the morning, and his cars thermometer said that it was -7° C.
As far as Im concerned, it just shows the warming power of chilli and whisky.
All the best everyone, and Happy New Year.
