Life's A Beach (bivvy)

My first solo microadventure and bivvy. Ever since reading Ronald Turnbull's "Book Of The Bivvy" and Alistair Humphries "Microadventure" I fell in love with the idea of using a bivvy bag and wild camping literally anywhere. 

pictured anywhere...

Originally I decided on bivving on top of Kinder Scout around Grindslow Knoll. Having walked around Edale a few times and the fact it is relatively easy to get too via train from Liverpool, it was for me a good location for a first time wildcamp/bivvy. Unfortunately my fiancée didn't agree and was convinced I would be brutally murdered and dismembered by a disgruntled/homicidal farmer/sheep/midge/bear. As a good compromise for my first bivvy we "agreed" on somewhere a bit closer to home and with good mobile reception.

So I was going to pop my microadventure cherry and go bivvy on top of the sand dunes between Formby and Ainsdale. These dunes are one of the best remaining strongholds of the rare natterjack toad, Europe’s loudest amphibian. The pine forest that lines the coast is also home to the red squirrels a which has unfortunately been out-competed by it grey Canadian cousin across most of the UK. The dunes and the forest are also home to sand lizards, great-crested newts and a fantastic variety of orchids and other wildflowers.

Before I embarked on my maiden microadventure/bivvy, I headed into Liverpool city centre to eat, pick up last minute supplies (beers) and then jump the train to Freshfield station. I arrived at Freshfield station around 7ish then slowly waddled (severely over laden as I was carrying 4 litres of water of which over the night/morning I drank exactly four beers instead) up the Fisherman's Track across the golf course, through the pine forest and onto the sand dunes. 

Route map

I crawled up and down a bunch of dunes until I was satisfied I found the highest one. On top of my perch I enjoy a well deserved beer (or two) and watch the sunset. From my adopted bedroom I could see the headland of the Wirral peninsula, the Snowdon massif in the distance, make the outline of Lakeland Fells and see Blackpool and high ground of the of what I think was the forest of Bowland.

Enjoying a well deserved beer.

The sunset

Snowdon in the distance

Blackpool

the forest of Bowland (maybe?)

The conditions were fantastic, a bit too fantastic as my 3 season cheapO synthetic sleeping bag was feeling a little bit warm. Not to fear though as the temperature dropped during the night. I woke few times during the night but soon drifted back to sleep to the sound of the Irish Sea gently lapping on the beach. The next morning I woke about 4ish with the sun, caught the sunrise and then I managed to snooze for another hour before I had to answer the call of nature. 

The sunrise

I then sat back in my bivvy and tried to make a brew where upon I discover the gas canister I had brought didn't fit my stove!! So I munched a cereal bar and enjoyed the early morning views. It was quite striking just how alone I was and how wild it felt. This despite being mere 30 minutes walk away from a dormitory town with its 25k inhabitants mostly tucked up in bed. After chilling and doing zero for an hour or so I got up and fully dressed before ceremoniously pouring out 3 and half litres of water keeping half a litre for the walk back the train station. I then packed up and explored the beach and the pine forest before heading back to the station. I got the first train back to Liverpool, had a shower and was treated to breakfast with my fiancée. 
All in all it was an awesome experience and I learnt a lot for the next time.
Lessons learnt
2) Test gear before you take it out.
3) wild is a state of mind rather than a location.

Mid packing away

My morning walk through the woods 

1) Be brave and travel light

If I was camping on Kinder I wouldn't have had carry so much water as there plenty of fresh water sources to purify. Water aside though I was carry far too much unnecessary crap - one example being a micro fleece sleeping bag liner for a 3 season sleeping bag in the middle of July. 

The stove I bought was a little cheap one from Sports Direct and the gas was from Amazon. Both in isolation were perfectly capable pieces of kit. however, when combined (or in this case not) they were completely useless. The schoolboy error was not checking whether they were compatible and doing a test run at home. I'm just glad it was fairly mild morning on a beach than on a cold blustery night on the dark peak that I found out they weren't compatible.

Even though i was only half an hour walk away from a small town I felt a world away, completely isolated with only the sound of the sea to keep me company. Waking up with the sun, stirring out over the irish sea and just doing nothing was amazing. I simultaneous felt small/insignificant compared to the world and somehow apart of it. The rhythms of the sea and the breeze flowed through me connecting to me the world making feel a real part of it.

Malham Cove, the Gordale scar and my first proper scramble

The first time I went to malham was not long after I had done the first Llangollen walk.    

Planned route for the day

The plan was to walk past Janet's Foss, then scramble up the Goredale Scar, walk to the tarn, follow the river until it disappeared at Water Sinks. Then walk through the dry valley, connect up with the Pennine Way, walk the limestone paving over the top of Malham Cove, walk to the bottom of cove where the river reappears and complete the circuit back to the village.

 

Me, my mate, my sister (R Nicky) & Tess the dog

I decided to invest in some new boots rather than borrowing Aldi's finest boots of my dad. So I took myself off to Blacks and on my brother's instructions ask for a pair with a gore-tex membrane. When I saw the price I decided that a treated boot would suffice, so I picked up a pair of Berghaus AQ Explorers. Initially I was impressed, but then again I had no clue.

AQ "Waterproof" technology

New boots in hand, on a miserable grey spring morning we headed off to Malham. Our original plan was slightly modified when we realised that despite the four legged advantage Tess was not going to get up the Scar.  Secretly relieved, I suggested we walk up a hill at the mouth of the gorge instead, thinking it would be the easier option.

The hill AKA "bastard of a hill"

It was at this point I discovered that

A) my new boots were waterproof in name only

B) my new boots were useless on mud and offered zero traction.

As soon as we started across the field, walking through wet grass my feet were already starting to field damp. I guess AQ stands for aqueous, as my boots were definitely wet. Once we had crossed the field and a small wall we were at the bottom of the hill. The relatively steep hill which was initially the easier option started to look a bit more of a challenge. The moment I started walking up it felt near impossible. The very shallow cleats on the boots proved to be absolutely useless on the saturated ground.

Hands and knees provide the much needed traction the boots failed to offer 

After clawing my way up the hill. We walked along the top of gorge until we connected back up with our planned route. Most of the day was spend traipsing through mizzle and rain. 

A good portion of it was spent on my backside as I later discovered that my boots were useless on wet limestone (to be fair most boots are)

Doing the worm across the limestone paving

Hands and knees again supplying the traction

"Are we nearly there yet?"

Even though it was wet miserable day and my feet were sodden I still managed to enjoy myself. However, I think we all felt a little disappointed that we never made it up the gorge.

the face says it all.

So we promised to come back in fairer weather and scale the Gordale Scar.

In the interim I shelled out £190 on a pair of Meindl Bhutan MSF from Cotswolds. I wanted a pair of 3/4 season boots for the winter with good grip and a proper gore-tex lining after the previous adventure.

Genuinely waterproof boots

I could not be happier with the Meindls, I read a lot of reviews saving that they were very stiff and maybe not so comfortable for general walking. However, for me they were ideal! Initially they felt a bit weighty but when it came to kicking in steps up a snowy hill I found the weight reassuring.

Freshly kitted out on a cold but sunny February we headed back to Malham.

All ready and raring to go on frosty February morning.

We followed the exact same route of the original plan. Headed out the village through Janet's Foss.

On our way to Janet's Foss

Janet's Foss

Once we passed Janet's Foss started to approach the Gordale Scar. On our first outing my brother sold it as England's answer to the Grand Canyon. On a wet miserable day it didn't feel like it, but in the early morning sun on a beautiful day it was very impressive.

Entering the gorge

Looking back through the gorge

Once we entered the immense stone cathedral, the waterfall we were set to climb came into view. This time round rather than being apprehensive i was really excited. The previous night i must have watch every youtube video that showed even a glimpse of the climb up the waterfall.

the waterfall in all its glory 

"Are we going to climb that?!"

We approached the waterfall from the right hand side initially, we first had to traverse across the front of the waterfall over a few stepping stones. At this point we had to step up a human chain to walk my mate Murray's son and his friend across us. This is when the Meindl Bhutan boots and my gaiters came into there own. At one point i both my feet submerged up to my ankles for a few minutes and my feet stayed completely dry. Pity i couldn't say the same about Murray's son's friend's sweatpants after he took a quick dip on his way through the chain..

Actual route up the waterfall and my first ever proper scramble

Half way up the waterfall

Still passing children up the waterfall

Once we got over the first waterfall the gorge open up to reveal another dramatic waterfall cascading over the shattered floor of the canyon. We missed this completely last time as we had to skirt around the top of the gorge and couldn't get close enough to the edge to look down.

And what a view to miss

You can stick your Grand Canyon 

My brother looking absolutely chuffed

On the right hand side of the gorge were a rough a set of steps cut into the floor up a thigh burning hill and out of the valley. This was definitely a head-down-stamp-through-it moment.

Slogging up the hill

Gasping for air at the top of the hill

After a lot of huffing and puffing we reached the top of valley which opened out into a beautiful sunny day.

Looking up the valley

Looking back down into the gorge

after leaving the valley we headed towards Malham Tarn.

After briefly visiting malham tarn we followed the river until it disappears at "Water sinks." We then enter the dry valley of Watlowes heading towards the famous limestone paving on top of Malham Cove.

Dry river bed

Looking back along the dry valley of Watlowes

Once we passed through the dry valley we reached the world famous limestone paving. This time on a dry day the footing felt a lot more secure. However, where it was damp and in shadow, the polished rock was as slick as ice irrespective of my new boots.

The world famous limestone paving.

My sister and I at the top of the cove

It's a long way down

Limestone amphitheatre

After we passed the limestone paving there was a steep path down to the bottom of the cove. It was quite amazing following the path of the river, watching it disappear at "Water Sinks" and then have (what we thought was the river) spring back up a good mile or so at the bottom of a huge limestone amphitheater. It turns out according to this source, the origins of the spring are slightly more complicated 

"For many years, it was believed that this river was the same as Malham Beck, reemerging further down the valley at the base of Malham Cove (i.e. the most obvious course: simply tracing the route of the dry valley which leads from Water Sinks down to the cove itself - and which way the water would have almost certainly flowed before finding the route underground).

However, this is in fact not the case, as fluorescence dye tests have now proved that the river disappearing underground at Water Sinks does not actually reemerge until much further downstream, the point of debouchure being a place which is called Aire Head Springs south of Malham village. [Malham Beck, meanwhile, appears to originate at another location on Malham Moor, before also disappearing underground to resurface at the famous rising beneath Malham Cove !]"

The cove was dotted with climbers scaling its vertical walls, and on a sunny day I imagine there is no better place to be.

After visiting the spring we followed the river back out of the valley towards our start and finish point of Malham village for a well earned pint.

Breathtaking view looking back into the valley

It was a fantastic walk, and my first real taste of scrambling. Ever though it was only a short segment of the day, it had the most impact. There was real excitement and pleasure as I thought and worked my way up the waterfall. This was the ideal introduction to scrambling for me. The fact we managed to get two children up (no dogs unfortunately) demonstrated how easy it was, but at the time it still felt dangerous. I was hooked. Even though was a small step, it felt like a massive leap for me.