Don’t go searching for a Mermaid, if you don’t know how to swim!

Don’t go searching for a Mermaid, if you don’t know how to swim!

 

Mermaid's Pool overlooking the Kinder Reservoir. Photo: Author.

After a very difficult week, it was that time again; time to escape into the great outdoors for a weekend in the hills with some friends. The site that was chosen is one that I have visited once before, but in vastly different conditions. The first time I visited Mermaid’s Pool was early January, the blinding fog was only trumped in discomfort by how wet and cold it was. Regardless of the weather I had a great time. However, the weather for this trip, which we unknowingly planned for what would turn out to be the hottest day of the year and certainly one of the hottest days in my memory couldn’t be more different with temperatures well in excess of 30° Celsius, and visibility for many miles.

Glorious weather in the Peak District. Photo: Author

Shortly after setting off to the rendezvous at a carpark in the middle of nowhere, it became apparent that every other person from the northwest must have had the same idea. When I finally arrived and met up with the chaps I would be spending the next 3 days with, it became clear that this was going to be a great weekend. I was in the frame of mind where spending time out in nature, and in good company was going to be both enriching for my physical as well as mental health.

After the steady incline (that I’m sure gets further each and every time) towards the reservoir, we rest for a quick water break and to take some photos of the deep, dark water of the reservoir before the stunning, rolling hills of the peak district. Rehydrated our next route was a small path to the northwest over trickling streams and through idyllic woodland until we came across our camp site for the night; the tranquil and picturesque Mermaid’s Pool.

One of the many streams we crossed, this one was guarded by a sheep that didn't want to move. Photo: Author.

Once an ideal micro-location was agreed, I helped the others set up their shelter for the night, which in this instance was an enclosed configuration with a square tarpaulin. Jordan, being a black belt in Tarpigami contorted and pegged out the structure and in no time whatsoever, a simple sheet has turned into their home for the night. I however, opted for a small hiking tent that turned out to be rather comfortable, if albeit on the tad small side.

The shelters for the first night. Photo: Author.

Now that the sleeping arrangements have been sorted and beer adequately cooled in the dwelling of that infamous and illusive water nymph, it was time to prepare dinner. Out of preference, I tend not to take dehydrated, adventure style meals that simply require the addition of hot water. The reason for this is twofold, primarily the cost of such meals and secondarily the fact that I very much enjoy cooking, especially in the outdoors. For this trip I brought enough ingredients to have the same dish for both evening meals, which in this case was pan fried chorizo in a spicy chilli con carne sauce, with added flavour from tomato soup sachet; all on top of a generous portion of pasta. I am salivating just thinking about it.

 Following dinner, I took a moment to sort out my camp admin; washed my dishes, packed everything in its place before pulling up a chair, enjoying a well-deserved Brewdog and clearing my mind under an already clear sky.

Enjoying the view, weather beer and company, even if my face doesn't show it. Photo: Author.

The next morning I woke early, as a group we had decided that we would attempt to cover some miles upstream and take a path over the top of Kinder Scout  to the south and view some amazing sights before making camp somewhere around the area of the Edale Cross. However, as the saying goes; the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. In our circumstance these plans went awry by the fact that despite me waking up at around 0600 to have breakfast and break camp for 0800, my adventuring comrades were only just stirring at around 1000. This wasn’t a problem as we had already agreed on an alternate, shorter route to take in the event the scenic route was no longer an option. After what seemed like the longest hour of my life while scrambling up Red Brook, which was more like a rusty trickle with the baking temperatures and no rainfall over the last few days. It was a very exciting scramble and the face on some of the day walkers who saw is crawl up wearing bergens was almost as spectacular as the view from the top. 

Jordan (left) & Rich (right) on the scramble up Red Brook. Photo: Author.

Compared to the morning scramble, the walk to the cairn for lunch was a relatively simple and easy one, passing some very interesting rock clusters and viewing the notably verdant scenery of this part of the marvellous Peak District. Later in the day, and after a rather good lunch of oatcakes with Tuna we set about finding a location for our evening camp.

When making the decision of where to make camp for the night, there will almost always be a compromise; distance from a water source, abundance of fire wood, how level or well-drained the patch of land is. The patch that we finally decided on was very close to a fast flowing stream, on a slight gradient but appeared to be well drained. Observing the macro, as well as the micro environment, I still maintain that this was the best site considering over potential sites in the area. For this, the second and final night of the adventure I wanted to bivvy out under a tarp, so as a group, weset up two tarps in a plough-point configuration and overlapped the ends to make a massive shelter that had enough room for all three of us, kits and a sitting area. Once dinner was finished, plates washed and enough water to last until the next day had been filtered we sat around the glowing embers and flickering flames of the campfire, finishing off the last of my hip-flask of fireball whiskey; a cinnamon liqueur which went down a treat with my outdoor comrades. So much so that we had the majority of the flask finished in no time at all. With the whiskey gone, and night closing I decided to hit the hay, or in this case the Lamina and get a good night sleep as I was up rather early that morning.

The Super Plough-Point shelter. Photo: Author.

I would love to say that I slept brilliantly and woke energised after a long and peaceful rest, but I would be lying. I woke at around 0400 as the heavens had opened and the winding trickle had of course found its way into my bivvy. In my hurry to enjoy the heavenly blessing of my Lamina I had forgotten to pull the drawstring of my bivvy bag tight around my pillow and sleeping mat. This was quickly rectified by pulling the drawstring tight and when I woke to the sunrise, there was little more than a wild condensation build up in the bivvy with me but the inside of my sleeping bag remained dry.

With an acceptable amount of sleep I summoned the strength to drag myself from warming bubble of the Lamina to face the chilling air and soul wrenching splatter of the persistent rainfall. After breakfast and giving Jordan a kick to wake up, we dismantled our camp, leaving only footprints as evidence of our presence, and hit the trail to walk back to the cars which is where this memorable adventure began but inevitably had to end.

This is why I often describe this place as the Bleak District, rather than the Peak District. Photo: Author.

As with all trips, once home I always like to reflect on the events to see what I thought went well, and should be repeated. As well as what could be improved on, such as removing unnecessary equipment, refine certain skills or modifying things so they suit my needs better. One of the biggest positives that I have taken away from this trip is having a place for everything, and keeping everything in its place. With having quite a lot of relatively new equipment, including a new rucksack it’s always difficult to get into a new routine of where to keep things. Using a Karrimor Sabre 45 has allowed me to use the main compartment for sleeping equipment, shelter and clothes, and use the side pockets for food and cooking equipment. As soon as I am finished using a piece of equipment it goes back where it came from so that I know exactly where all my equipment is all the time. Furthermore, probably the most important part of reflecting on trips is what I can improve on. From this bank holiday adventure, without a doubt the one component that has tattooed itself in my brain is to remember to pull the drawstring tight on my bivvy. In my mind, everything else went rather well, I ate brilliant food that doesn’t really weigh much, my water capacity was good and ability to filter worked adequately. Perhaps next time I would bring a warm jacket for the evenings instead of sitting in my sleeping bag but that would be the only other factor I would change. 

What is the best thing you have learned from experience while out camping?

Na Na Na, Na Na - it's the one and only Bushman's Blog

Na Na Na - Na Na, it's the one and only Bushman's Blog

Micro Adventure to Priest's Hole Cave, Patterdale

Despite spending many nights undertaking traditional woodland camping trips, endeavouring to hone my skills by using what nature provides to fulfil my needs, I have never really spend much time in the hills. with hindsight, which is always a wonderful thing; I really regret not adventuring out into the hills and open areas of our beautiful countryside, instead of sitting looking at maps trying to find woodlands to camp in, all the while feeling contempt because I feel that I should be able to spend time in these locations but the law of the land inhibits me. However, this is where hiking comes in. instead of not spending time in nature, disheartened by the prospect of not having a protected right to use woodlands close to me, I was invited to go on an overnight trip to the lake district and jumped at the opportunity. 

I will never forget the first morning, I packed a cheap 'hiking' backpack with the equipment that I would usually use for the woods. Until this trip, I had never done a multi-day trip into the hills, only sedentary woodland camps so weight has never really been a problem, as long as I could fit it in the bag on my back, of course. Having packed, I rushed out of my flat and into the car park to wait for Charlie and Jordan, I had met Charlie once before at a woodland camp meet up but this was the first time I had met Jordan. After directing them to the flat over the phone, because maps on the iPhone are awesome, I was given my first impression of what was to come; most people wisely state that first impressions are very important, you will never get a second chance to make one and they will often have great baring on one's perception of a person. I pride myself on being a fairly good judge of character, and as they both slowly creeped into the car park, blasting out The Next Episode by Dr Dre ft Snoop Dogg, I knew we were going to get on brilliantly. After a brief stop off for snacks, we were on our way to the mighty Lake District.

When you're running on fumes and the only thing keeping you going is stubbornness. Photo by Charles Norris.

Not long into the hike it became apparent that I wasn't in the best physical condition, which was made all the worse by the weight of the equipment that was brought with me. Little did I know that some of that equipment was going to prove invaluable later on. After walking for what seemed like an eternity, I was sure we were getting pretty close to the hill, and subsequently the cave, which meant the chance to relax, enjoy the surroundings and chat with friends. However, this was not the case; possible the steepest and most foreboding set of stairs lay in front of us and that was the only way up. After pit stop for water and trail mix embraced the obstacle wholeheartedly, and I must say it was one of the physically demanding things I had done to date considering my fitness and the weight I was carrying. getting to the top of the "thousand stairs" as I called them (an elder scrolls reference, I'm sure every Skyrim fan will get) was such an amazing feeling, I had overcome something that I was sure would break me, and sharing it two amazing people who willed me on every step of the way made it feel all the sweeter. Knowing that they were going through everything that I was maintained the attitude that if they could do it, why not me?

Part of the path up to Priest's Hole that stretches into eternity. photo by Author

However, this was not the end. in the same way that Frodo and Sam had made it into Mordor, yet still needed to climb Mount Doom, I still had the scramble and climb to the cave to contend with. Once we made our way towards to the mouth of the cave, there was an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment, as well as exhaustion, which quickly manifested itself into laughter when after presuming we would have the cave to ourselves, or perhaps one or two people, it was filled with a group of stoners, and a few couples. Without sounding too offensive, the main reason for my laughter was the sight of one of the ladies, who we would be sharing the cave with that night, who filled it rather comprehensively by herself. how on earth she managed to get up to the cave is beyond me, moreover, she didn't move from her double sleeping bag until the next day which we all found to be quite amusing.

Due to the overcrowding in the cave, and the only conceivable places to lie were at about a 45 degree angle on jagged rocks, we decided to camp just outside the mouth of the cave, beneath a cheap builder's tarp that I use for a ground sheet. Our lack of preparation for this potential outcome was staggering, only overshadowed by our ingenuity in engineering poles from our camera tripods and what little cordage we had as guy lines. The problem with this type of tarp, over ones of better quality is the volume produced by the rain as it hits it. I'm surprised anyone actually managed to get any sleep that night.

Jordan & Charlie sitting under the infamous 'builder's tarp' held up using camera tripods. photo by Author

By far, the best thing to happen on this trip was meeting Yonnie, a real old mountain goat of a man, who was an absolute god send on that hill top. Once we had our tarp set up he got a bottle of champagne out of his tiny day sack, along with a cafetiere, spicy sausages, buns and sauce. Enough for all of us up there. After having hotdogs and champagne and the other food we had for dinner, we sat on the hillside, swapping stories taking photographs and generally having a brilliant time.

Enjoying a morning brew outside Priest's Hole Cave

  After a fairly broken night's sleep we began the descent back to the car and a greasy breakfast in a local village, but as we approached the carpark, we bumped into the group of guys we met the night earlier, who were smoking some pretty exotic tobacco. While the majority of the looked half dead, probably because they didn't have such a good night sleep, one of them had a large tissue wrapped around his hand. As it turned out, his had gone to pick up a fist-full of bracken to put on their campfire and unfortunately lacerated his hand rather deeply. I have heard stories of people cutting themselves badly trying to collect bracken, most probably presume it would break easily like grass. This is not a mistake I plan on making myself any time soon, it looks rather painful.

I learnt a lot from this trip, one of the most important lessons was the importance of preparation. Despite the fact that almost all of my equipment was poorly suited to this sort of trip, being heavy and bulky, It was by chance that I decided to bring a tarp, which was ultimately the reason we were able to stay out that night, albeit rather noisily. Another lesson was an appreciation of small kindnesses, after reaching the cave (feeling half dead) Charlie got out a packet of pork pies for us. They were very gratefully received. Looking back on it now, we ate very well indeed that nights, perhaps that's why I have such happy memories of the trip, rather than focusing on how wrecked my legs were. There is no doubt in my mind that the people I met on this Micro Adventure, made the trip the success it was, spending time with people outdoors definitely brings them together.

Jordan, Myself & Charlie (Cavemen) on our way down from Dove Crag. Photo by Author.

It's definitely a place that I will be visiting again, and would definitely recommend it to anyone else looking for an adventure. Be sure to prepare for the worse, but as always hope for the best.

What are the most important lessons you have learnt while out adventuring?

why not leave a comment and let me know

WHY DO I DO IT?

 WHY DO I DO IT?

Several weeks ago now, I found myself watching a video by everyone’s favourite Officer of confectionery… the Sgt Fruitcake. I believe it was some sort of giveaway video, in which he asked a series of questions that resonated with me. Some of the most basic but interesting questions that could be asked of any outdoors person. The questions were simply; how did you get into Bushcraft? Why do you still do it? And where do you hope it will take you?’

The first question is a very interesting one. I have always had a fascination with the natural world, as well as history. It was a combination of these interest which led to my passion for archaeology. So much so that went on to complete a degree in it. However, it wasn’t long into these studies that I realised that my fascination wasn’t with the material remains of the human past, or the ‘stuff’ unearthed in the archaeological record, but rather our connection with the natural world through material culture. In other words, what the artefacts can tell us about the people who used them and more importantly, how they interacted with their natural world. A lot of this of course is inference, which is where the bushcraft comes in. In my eyes, there is precious little difference between an individual conducting an experimental archaeological investigation, and one practising bushcraft in relation to primitive skills and techniques. Along with many other outdoor enthusiasts, I owe my introduction to this great pursuit to one man; Ray Mears. I had the pleasure of attending a carving course at Woodlore with Ray in 2014, which was an experience I will never forget. I have never been so star struck in my life. But that’s a story for another article.

Attending the Woodlore Carving Masterclass with Ray Mears, August 2014. photo by Author.

As for the second question of ‘why do you still so it?’ this is probably the hardest question of the bunch. Simply put, I don’t know why I carry on studying bushcraft; I suppose a fitting metaphor would be that the years of reading, watching videos and practising skills has enabled me to place my foot on the first rung of the bushcraft ladder. The acquisition of skills, knowledge and equipment (or as I describe them, the bushcraft trinity) is merely scratching the surface, the application of these things is the real endeavour. Once you feel comfortable staying outdoors and have the sufficient skills and knowledge of an area, spending time outdoors for multiple days becomes a pleasure as you feel quite at home there. I find it’s generally the fear of the unknown that puts most people off, or the thought of all the stuff you need to bring with you, but as the old bushcraft adage says; the more you know, the less you carry.

One of the main reasons I am dragged back outdoors is to spend time in beautiful locations with fellow outdoor enthusiasts. I have had the pleasure of meeting a lot of like minded, brilliant people that I have come to call friends  over the years. we are all very difference, but we all share an appreciation of the natural world, which is what brings us together. It’s a very long road when its walked alone, tamer is the road travelled with friends.

Some of the people that Bushcraft has introduced me to 
(from top left - bottom right; Brian, Jack, Peter, Charlie and Myself. photo by Author.

The third question is probably my favourite, ‘where do you hope it will take you?’ this question is particularly important as it allows you to add a degree of tangibility and focus to your learning. It is very important to have achievable and measurable goals set out. This is something I have always done. My very first goal in bushcraft was to be able to light and maintain a fire. The latter being the most crucial skill to develop. Most will be able to light a fire, but nurturing the flame into an established fire can sometimes be a challenge; especially when beginning. However, mollycoddling a fire can often hinder its development, so a certain milieu is required to optimise the fire. The same can also be said with the development of people, but now I’m getting really off-topic. Point being that learning to grow a fire and maintain it, without getting out of hand was a real goal and something I am always experimenting with. My current goals are fairly simple, I want to be able to undertake a long trip (a week or more) using minimal equipment. There’s one trip in particular that is close to my heart. This would be a canoe expedition in Sweden. In recent months, a have started to learn the basics of paddling from my friend Brian and immediately took a fondness to it. As you can tell by my face, I love being out on the water. Another goal for the coming year would be to make more effort to document trips, if only as a learning experience allowing me to review the trip critically and try to improve my practises in whatever way possible.

First time paddling a canoe and it was in a storm. Photo by Brian Trubshaw.

To summarise, this has been a very concise article outlining what drew me to studying Bushcraft, what keeps me studying it, and where I hope my studies will take me in the future. regardless of what your ability is, or what your goals are, the most important and ultimately valuable thing one can do increase understanding and kinship with the natural world is to spend more time in it.

Keep up the love for nature, and never stop learning.

What are your answers to these questions? let me know in the comment box below...