Mark on Donkeys Ears top traverse (Photo: Unknown)  



Al on Little Chamonix (Unknown)
Mark on Donkeys Ears top traverse (Unknown)
Trish on Little Chamonix (Unknown)
Trish at the top of Little Chamonix (Unknown)


Bowderstone Hut


The band of 7 hobbits met on a windy Friday night. The door nearly blew shut due to modern contraptions, and they might have been locked out for the weekend, but for the swift hand of one called Bob saved the drive back to Manchesterdale... Disappointed that Bilbo Baggins was not present they threatened to leave, until the meet leader told them there would be patches of sunshine on the morrow, and more thereafter... and curry and crumble for all and sundry the night to follow, and that we had to wait for another arrival, that of the lovely Katharine, who might have been lost forever due to a topsy turvy grid reference, but was dashingly collected from the car park by hobbitt Bob, twice a hero... and he said he was only popping out for a paper...

And so they went about shovelling coal and built a lovely blaze, a cheerful plume of smoke could be seen from far and wide, and the hobbits got beer and wine down their necks and enjoyed the flames whilst hatching plans to dodge the showers and bask in blue the day after... The coals were taken to the dorm by one bold hobbit called Al on a blazing shovel, to the horror of the other hobbits, and it was as much as we could do to stop him putting them in the beds. "Wisest in the hearth", we said, so he reluctantly agreed... The next day saw wet and windiness and patches of blue, which were but fleeting at times... and they all breakfasted and headed out.

Two brave young hobbits called Jo and Mark "Hollow Legs" Furniss decided that blazing saddles were what they needed for the day, so they hotfooted down to the mountain bike store and hired some such wheels, then they went all around Derwent water until they were lured by the smell of a giant A3 sized pizza at Nichol end, and giant football sized scones the likes of which they had never seen before, and they were the envy of us all after. The brave hobbits struggled against 60 mph winds, until they were lured once more by the smell of cooking at Shepherd's crag cafe where they were forced by the owner to eat cake, before returning to the hobbit fold, as fast as their slightly heavier legs could carry them...

The aforementioned hobbits, Bob and Katharine had their eyes on Glaramara, but as bad weather prevailed, they whiled away a wet morning at a climbing wall next to Castlerigg stone circle, which they said was not to bad at all... They then braved out into the eye of the storm to Ullswater, and ascended Arnison Crag at the top of which, hobbitt Bob was clear blown off his feet! "Let's have a cup of tea" they said, and spent a happy time supping in Glenridding.

The remaining hobbits headed out on a tour of ten crags, an ambitious undertaking...They managed only five, maybe there is a pattern emerging here - they visited and touched the rock of Bowder crag, Quayfoot Buttress, Brown crag, Reecastle crag, and Shepherd's crag, where they were lured by cake, again dragged in kicking and screaming by the owner, who had also kidnapped Pete Leeson who was with a band of energetic looking elves, who escaped while we distracted the owner, and hurried home for dinner and beverages awaiting them...

The arrival back at the fold saw the frantic lighting of fires and many a newspaper was used up to draw the chimney to full flame effect...and the arrival of the eighth hobbit, Brian who had been out a wandering that day and was ready for a good feed. The discussions of the day came to a rapid halt when the lovely Katharine announced to us with a cry of disdain that the toilets were no longer flushing. We had run out of water - and so with the incentive of an impending curry, three brave hobbits, namely Brian, Al and Dave, headed up the hill after pouring over the book of "what could go amiss at the cottage...siphoning for the expert". ...And so armed with a washing up liquid bottle "a la Blue Peter", which hobbit Trish thought would have made a very fine Dougal. Alas, she never got the chance to get her hands on it. They were gone a long time, and eventually they returned looking rather bedraggled, and Brian was wearing a very wet sleeve...

So crazy shaped poppadoms were formed by hobbit Jo and nan breads and chapatis were toasted on the fire by Bob and the curry was eaten anyway to fire seven of the hobbits up the hill, with pots pans and the desired squeegy bottle, while two minded the fire.

One hobbit, named Trish had her batteries run out half way, and so temporarily blinded, she resorted to using her saucepan as an ice axe to aid her progress up the hill, amusing to behold by the other hobbits, especially after the goblets of wine she had consumed beforehand...

After much grovelling in a cave of water and the passing of pans, the hitting of heads to the sound of much cursing on the cave roof, much pouring, bubbling, and valve opening and closing, testing and shouting to no avail, and eventual communication, and aaaaahhh! The toilet flush was thankfully restored, and the satisfied hobbits headed back to the cottage for crumble custard and more beverages, and the telling of stories and the shovelling of coals, this time by the fearless Katharine. There was only one hobbit who could not sleep because he was kept awake all night by all that crackling...

The next day saw a change in the weather and sunshine abounded. Hobbitt Brian, despite his disturbed night had the summit of Blencathra in his eyes at breakfast, so he bade an early departure and headed bravely off, but alas he was ne'er to be seen again... There was a mass assault by the remaining hobbitts on Shepherd's crag, on a day when only one shower fell, and the rest was bathed in sunniness...

 
 

Hobbitt Bob and the fearless Katharine made an alpine start on the aforenamed crag, and Katharine lead her first multi-pitch route, then they were tempted off by the call of Brown slabbiness - and they were not seen again. ...leaving but a thermal and a pair of boots for us to remember them by.

Climbs known to have been conquered by them and the rest of the hobbits were namely Jackdaw Ridge (Diff), Chamonix (Diff), Little Chamonix (V Diff), where hobbit Trish was passed by a soloing man called Birkett who sighed and said what trouble he had to move his weary bones of a morning. ...much to her dismay mixed with disgust. Crescendo (HS), and Donkey's ears - the seat of many expletives, such as "Jesus wept!" ...as to pass between his ears on the second pitch was for small and flexible hobbits only, not large unfoldable ones, with a threatening spike below if one should not make it, which thankfully all the cursing hobbits did by various methods, including the traverse, where his ears were neatly avoided by two cunning hobbits, namly Jo and Mark. Oh and various permutations of Brown slabs by the dashing Bob and the intrepid Katharine...

Hobbitt Al who arrived at the crag without his climbing shoes said after all was done with a philosophical look in his eyes that it had made for a most interesting day...

And so the sun began to go down, and some hobbits were lured by that forceful farmer to eat high tea, some escaped, some goodbyes were said and a return to the hut to bid more farewells and to consume all leftovers was made until darkness fell...

And a strange howl was heard from the Bowderstone that night lit up by the fullest of moons...

Thank you to all attending hobbits for all your help, not to mention expert siphoning, firelighting, frying and toasting skills, making it such an enjoyable weekend!

THE END.



Trish Cranston
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