Cross Fell

We’d just come back from a washed out Scottish Open. Steve Hall, Peter Rutherford and myself decided to give Crossfell a go. It was raining when we arrived so ended up having a pint and a game of pool in the Shepherd’s.
The weather changed quite quickly and the sky went blue with just the odd cumulus. We rigged on the top all ready together just in case. I took off and flew to Wild Boar. I was met by a mega 10 – 15 up….A mega thermal! I dared to take my hand off the bar to key the mike and say “Get yer arses over here quick” But they were already on their way. We climbed out together and reached an amazing 4000ft above the top of Crossfell summit – 7000ft ASL. The views were spectacular, we could see both coasts it was that clear.
We slowly circled over Jim Clapp the vet’s house as the drift was light. With Garrigal below and the wide expanse of Nenthead moor in front of us it was decision time. There was one cloud shadow right in the middle of the moor but if it didn’t work it was the mega carry again. Oh well nothing ventured and all that I pulled 25 yards of VB on and set off on a glide. I was rewarded with a beautiful climb. Steve Hall joined me below and we climbed out again to a great height. But Peter Rutherford the “Disbeliever” didn’t risk it. Steve and I watched him run along the ground for about 15 miles making sarcastic jokes about his lowly position. He even screamed when six Tornadoes went passed him at 600 knots. That was well worth watching from our lofty position. Steve came on the radio “What’s that big lake in front of us?” Well Steve if you look at the map that’s in your harness pocket it would say Derwent Reservoir. I was getting bored with the slow drift and decided on a very long glide for the cloud over Consett. Steve shouting you’ll never make it, it’s too far away….So why you following then? I got to Consett and could see a woman hanging washing on her line….This was low, but the thermal worked and off I went again. Steve wasn’t so lucky he landed right in the middle of Consett...I kid you not.
It was just at this point that the radio crackled into life…. “Anyone on channel?” It was Clive Bridges at home in Sunderland..... Wallis here. Where are you?......6 grand over the A19 Kamatsu Factory. Oh yeah was the reply..... Please your self, can you not hear the vario going crackers..... Bastards, bastards I knew I should have went flying….Hee hee…Sorry Clive.
Peter had done well to catch up but I couldn’t see him as he was now further south. He eventually landed at Chester-le-street about 39 miles. I still had much height as there was lift everywhere by now. I could easy make the coast crossing Sunderland and maybe a bit more. But……….. a Boeing 737 on it’s approach into Newcastle passed me at the same height (in free airspace may I add) I could see the faces in the portholes it was that close. My bottle was well and truly gone. I wound off 6000 feet of height and landed by Penshaw Monument. Clive Bridges picked Peter and I up and took us all the way back to Ovingham where much much beer was drank…..A cracking day.