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?