scafells

Artist removes 1 inch off the peak of England’s highest mountain; Brits want their inch back.

It is still England’s highest mountain, but Scafell Pike is ever so slightly smaller now after an artist stole the top inch of the summit to display in a gallery.

Oscar Santillan, 34, was accused of vandalism after removing the stone pinnacle of the 3,209ft Lake District peak for an exhibition in London.

Ian Stephens, managing director of Cumbria Tourism, said: “This is taking the mickey and we want the top of our mountain back.”

Caledonian folding

Back in the early Cambrian some 500 million years ago, the continental dance had an active phase that resulted in the assembling of many of the plate fragments that form the bedrock beneath the European continent. Chunks of rock that were joined then that have stayed together through the vagaries of supercontinental gathering (the formation of Pangaea, completed some 300 million years back) and dispersal. There were two main landmasses in those days, known as Gondwana and Laurentia (for a piece on the formation of Gondwana see http://on.fb.me/1D548m8).

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Klaine Road Trip 2015 - Lake District, England

Written by daltoneering

2200 words

Rated PG-13

Summer 2015 - Masterpost

Stop #25

“I thought it was meant to be summer.”

They get out of the hire car onto the damp earth of the campsite car park, still scattered with puddles from the last rain shower. The sky above is a myriad of greys, already darkening with the approaching evening.

“Well, this is the UK. I’m pretty sure they don’t have summer.” Blaine sighs and checks his wallet is safely in his pocket. “Come on, let’s go sign in.”

The reception is situated in a grey stone farmhouse, manned by a woman in wellington boots and a mud-splattered fleece jacket. She quickly goes over the campsite rules and location of the toilets and washing up station with them, and sends them on their way to set up the tents.

They find a spot towards the top of one of the camping fields, under some still-dripping pine trees, right in the shadow of the mountain above them. It’s chilly. Blaine pulls on an extra jacket.

The dreariness of the weather does nothing to dampen their holiday moods, and they manage to fumble their way through laying out the tent on the grass and assembling the various poles. Blaine chuckles and pokes Kurt in the ass with the end of one.

His husband turns round with an amused frown. “Watch it, mister, or I might push you off the mountain tomorrow.”

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