Way, way back in the middle of 2004, I was invited to see in the New Year at
Black Sail youth hostel in the Lake District. Pushing all thoughts about the
lack of winter walking equipment to the back of my mind, I accepted. Anyway, I
was assured I could borrow all the items of kit I’d be likely to need.

For those who don’t know Black Sail, it is a converted shepherd’s bothy located
at the head of Ennerdale and is one of the remotest YH’s, only being accessible
on foot. It lies on the route of the coast-to-coast walk and is surrounded by the
fells of Great Gable, Pillar, Green Gable and Haystacks. Fortunately, we are
allowed to take 1 vehicle to within 500 metres for transporting the heavier
items.

Black Sail youth hostel (click on any picture for image in Flickr)

So, the months rolled by with vague mutterings about carrying in a couple of barrels of beer and dividing up the food responsibilities. With a week to go, organiser Andy has two firkins of beer (Nelson’s Revenge and Roaring Meg), cooked breakfasts for all 4 mornings and food for 3 evening meals in hand. I volunteer to bring red wine, Port, chocolates and fireworks. Well, there are going to be 16 of us there for 4 nights and it wouldn’t do to go thirsty or hungry. Finally it’s all coming together, except that I haven’t been able to borrow any boots. Lee tentatively offers a pair in size 43; if only. A swift post work trip to Field and Trek sees me flexing the plastic and walking out with a pair of suitably stiff boots. Hopefully not so stiff that they rub my heels but only time will tell.

By the time we meet in Ennerdale Bridge, make our way to the car parks to re-distribute kit and supplies, it’s dark, lashing with rain and there is a strong wind blowing up the valley. During a lull in proceedings, two of us decide that the quickest way to the hut will be to shoulder our packs and walk up. As soon as we leave the lights of the cars and buildings, our worlds are defined by the area illuminated by our head torches. I find the wind swirling the rain in the light of the head torches quite bizarre and somewhat claustrophobic.

The walk in is only about 4 miles but carrying a load and being predominantly uphill it seems to take an age but eventually we arrive at the hut. By this time the car with the supplies has arrived and we trudge back down the path and start moving its contents. I lose count of how many times I did this but it was bloody hard work; the track dips and rises and twists and turns and with the rain it is running like a stream in places. Payback comes a little later: kicking back in front of a roaring fire, pint in one hand and ginger wine in the other.

We awoke on New Years Eve to grey skies and the tops in cloud. After much faffing, a group of 6 of us leave just before Noon intending to walk up Black Sail Pass, onto Pillar via the scramble of Pisgah then off the other side into Wasdale for a pint in the Wasdale Head Inn before returning over Black Sail Pass. It takes a couple of hours to get onto the top of Pillar but after some dodgy route finding coming off the top and some prolonged lurching down a scree slope it’s fairly evident that making it into Wasdale just isn’t going to happen. By the time we’ve circled around the back of Pillar and made it to the top of Black Sail Pass, the light is going and the rain has started again. By the time we return to the hut, it’s virtually dark and the rain is well set in.

A splendid evening followed. There was more than enough food and drink for everybody and the alcohol fuelled post dinner game of Cranium was very entertaining. We had fireworks and champagne at midnight and then played Trivial Pursuit. I went to bed at about 3am and at that point the scene in the lounge was best described as one of carnage.

When I re-surfaced later on New Years Day, the scene outside the door was one of rain, sleet and hail. Nobody did much and my exercise for the day consisted of another trip to the car to collect more fireworks for the evening’s entertainment. We all drank rather less over dinner but the levels of pent up energy were such that our post dinner game of Diplomacy became very heated.

Overnight the rain stopped, the temperature dropped and we awoke to an icing sugar dusting of snow on the tops. Although there was an icy wind blasting up the valley it was at least dry. Lee and I set off unfeasibly early, at just after 11, for a ridge walk taking in Brandreth, Green Gable, Great Gable and Kirkfell before returning via Black Sail Pass. We gain the ridge fairly easily and take in views of both Ennerdale and Buttermere.

The head of Ennerdale with Kirkfell on the right, Great Gable in the centre then Windy Gap and Green Gable to the left

On the early parts of the ridge the wind was behind us, providing a gentle push in the back. By the time we cross Brandreth and get onto Green Gable, it’s coming from the side and on several occasions we’re nearly blown off our feet. Coming off Green Gable, Windy Gap certainly lives up to it’s name. In addition to the fresh snow, the route onto Great Gable is rimed with ice and is
treacherously slippery. Leaving the summit of Great Gable, we have the wind in our faces and it’s a struggle to avoid being blown backwards. Rather counter intuitively, I find it easier to lean forwards and keep moving rather than remain still and fight the wind. Whilst descending, we get views down Wasdale and see the sun glinting off Wastwater. No photos though; the camera was left in the hut.

Kirkfell is crossed without incident and with a sense of deja vu we reach the top of Black Sail Pass as the light is beginning to go. Another descent in the gloom and return to the hut in almost complete darkness but a grand day out.

The evening saw another heated game of Trivial Pursuit but probably the less said about rude word Scrabble the better. The following morning it was clean up and clear out time and eventually everyone was out but it was still 2pm before we hit the road out of Ennerdale.

All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable few days and certainly one of the best New Year celebrations I’ve had. The final tally on the booze front was 144 pints, 4 litres of mulled wine, 11 bottles of red wine, 4 bottles of port and 3 bottles of champagne. Which leads nicely to the first of my resolutions for 2005 – no more booze during January. And yes, the new boots did rub but, bizarrely, only my right foot.