My first experience of Shap would have been when I was still at school. My mate and myself were well into wagons at this time and we’d heard stories about Woodhead, Snake, Blackstone edge etc. from drivers we’d spoken to, plus stories relating to the legendary Shap fell.
So, one summer holiday we decided we’d hitch-hike up to Inverness… ( well why not?.)…
With our tent, sleeping bags, copious supplies of mandarin orange segments, cans of pineapple chunks, and a fortnight’s supply of Wills’ Woodbines stashed in our WW2 rucksacks, we set out from a point directly opposite the now defunct public conveniences on Wigan road in Ashton in Makerfield one sunny Saturday afternoon in July.
The first lift we got was in a wagon, but I don’t recall much detail. We passed through Wigan , on the A49 obviously, but I don’t actually remember where he dropped us off. I do remember though that we had to walk a couple of miles into Bamber Bridge, so it would most likely have been the turnoff for Lostock Hall and Penwortham.
We traversed Preston by some means or another, then up through Lancaster and Carnforth, arriving in Kendal sometime in the mid afternoon, thanks to the gracious intervention of a couple of handsome young ladies in a ragtop Triumph Herald on their way to Appleby.
Being unable to obtain a lift at this juncture, we proceeded to walk in the direction of Penrith.
We didn’t actually make it as far as the Jungle, but having covered several miles, and with the light fading, we thought it prudent to call it a day at this point, so we set up camp in a wooded area over a wall next to the A6.
I’ve had a look on Google street view and despite the intervening 60 years, I remain confident that I have located the exact spot. ( I’ll insert the picture at the end of this diatribe ).
It will be noted that the 25% 'slope of the land doesn’t exactly lend itself to camping, so after 7 hours or so of sliding downhill and emerging feet first under the edge of the canvas, we eventually gave up, packed up and decided to move on.
Being about 3 a.m. and pitch black by this time, we were finding it difficult to get a lift, so my mate hit on this bright idea of flashing his torch about. ( fnarr, fnarr.)
So this poor bloke in an Albion Claymore, ( those were the ones with the crew cab and an underfloor engine weren’t they ? ), well he stops for us thinking we were the police.
He wasn’t best pleased at first I seem to recall, but he warmed to us after a while and took us all the way to Carlisle.
I remember laughing when he jokingly said that he was loaded with 6 tons of bedpans for Workington or some place, although I didn’t really know what a bedpan was at that time.
I don’t recall whether we stopped at the Jungle on that occasion or not, but I think we may have pulled in at that milk machine, the one on the left at Eamont Bridge, where you need to turn left to go to Pooley Bridge. ( long gone now of course ).
Well, this thread states " The Story of Shap " , and it’s a story, of sorts, and it involves crossing Shap fell in the 60s.
I do realise that I’m pushing the envelope a bit here, and I apologise for boring anyone, but in my defence,… have any of you ever watched any of these t.v. reality shows lately?..FFS.
Oh! and before I forget, here’s the street view shot of the campsite, 60 years down the road…Nothing’s changed.
