The other Sca Fell! (May 31st 2006)

You need to ignore the date on this. It's Hairyface cocking up the camera use again. We went up Great Scafell on 31st May 2006! Honestly, he thinks he's a techno wiz. He aint! That there are two Scafells didn't surprise me... it seems there are two of everything up here. As though they ran out of ideas for naming stuff.



Still I should talk, I mean my name (Maia) is only one letter away from Great Aunt Gaia's name! Apparently, she was Hairy's first Weimaraner but I never met her. To Phaedy-poo she was the old Big dog. Phaedy told me lots about her. Mainly doggy stuff you wouldn't be interested in, but she was also a shark in the water. Used to jump off Derwentwater landing stages for fun! Could swim like she had gills (according to Phaedy) and was better than me anyday (also according to Phaedy!)



Huh, I bet she didn't do the cute rubbing my head on your chest trick to show you I like you. Or singing aloud when we're about to go walking, or... but I digress.



Any way it was just after Hairy's birthday and he comes out with, "I fancy a stroll up Scafell." Well, the Screature bit. She started on about how late in the day it was; how far away it was; how long it would take us to climb it; how we'd got no pack up ready... the usual stuff.



He just smiled and told her it was only about eight miles away; they could be there and back in about three hours and a few biccies and some fruit would do as a pack up.



She didn't bite this time. She just said, "Oh you mean the other one."



I'm lying on ma beanseat, ears a twitching, thinking: "The other one!!" There can't be two of 'em! No that's not fair. Last time we spent eight hours stepping over really, nasty sharp rocks which hurt my paws. It got really cold the higher we got. And there was an awful lot of high to get too. The last bit didn't have any grass on it for ages! It were like that 'purgo place' Hairy goes on about when the pub's not open and he has to wait a few minutes to oil his neck!"



He started smiling then and saying that it were Great Scafell, behind Siddaw. Well, we'd done behind Skiddaw stuff before. Really grassy. Great on ya paws. A bit like near where Hairy's mum lives. And, there'd be nobody about! On t'other one it was packed! Loads o' beardy types in serious trousers, blathering on about "The larst time I was here..." There was even some geeky kids, in loud tops, trying to boil up water for a brew! We musta spent about 25 minutes on top. eating our snap. Taking pictures, looking at the view... "That's Morecambe bay down there, Maia!" During all that time their water never boiled!



When we went back o' Skiddaw last time we only met one chap all day. And he were lost!



Faster than Hairyface in pursuitof a pint of Yates' Fever Pitch, we were there. Parked up and raring to go. It were dead sunny too. We did meet someone. A family - well a mum and three kids who'd brought a picnic and were paddling in the beck. Food radar went into overtime but the mum just ignored my pleading, please feed the starving doggy looks and the kids were too busy building a dam over the stream. (Why do they all do that?)



The top pic is of me being mean moody and magnificent in the summit hollow (I know) of Little Scafell. Hairy had an apple and gave us some dog chews. Swizz, I was hoping for chocolate - hence the M, M & M look.



Great Scafell isn't! Great I mean. It's boring. There's just nothing there. A crossroads of two paths in an area that could be an overgrown cricket pitch. Oh, and a pile of stones. There has to be a pile of stones. Don't ask me why.



Hairy said, "Right oh, we'll press on for Knott." So we did. 2o minutes later we are at a carbon copy of GSF but slightly higher and with better views. (Understatement - brillaint views of Blencathra's backside. Can I say that? )Hairyface sat on the cairn (that's posh speak for the pile of stones) and had more fruit. Guess what? We got choccie - OK it was dog choc, not hewming but still good. And.. there were wasps!! 2300 feet above sea level and a wasp found Hairyface's apple. He woulda bit it too if I'd not distracted him by chucking a stone at his feet. We hate wasps. We found a nest once. It smelt great but .... I don't want to think about it.



Back down off GSF was really, really, really steep. So steep that, if we ran our bums started to overtake our heads. Hairy kept stopping and moaning about his knees hurting. Wuss. Still, he does only have two, not four.

We went to a place called Trusmador. Sounds posh. It's a mountain pass and like somewhere you could massacre an army. From there it was a small stroll to the car at the foot of Longlands fell.


That's not it. We met Jonathan Edwards, the triple jumper!!! World record holder! He was with a kid on mountain bikes. They were obviously just setting off as they were so clean. He's got whiter hair than Hairyface. And his head seemed very wide. Huh. Hf didn't even take a photo. I woulda. He asked what we were, and for once hairy didn't say, "Dogs!"


I wasn't impressed by him. He said Io looked lovely. Huh, he may be able to jump over seventeen feet in his socks, but he doesn't appreciate a good dog!



The big un in the background is GSF.
Jonathan Edwards is just out of shot to the left of Io's bum, by about 10 minutes!! (The date's still wrong!)