Friday 27 December 2013

Kirk Fell, Pillar and Steeple

The Lakes 2003, part 4
Thursday 17th July 2003

After enjoying wonderful, hot weather on this holiday I shouldn’t have been disappointed when it finally started to deteriorate with this day being rather changeable: a day for both waterproofs and sunglasses. After spending the night at the amazing Black Sail Youth Hostel I set off first thing in the morning up to Black Sail Pass and from the top I tried to go up onto Kirk Fell, which I’d walked around, but not climbed, the day before. I had some difficulty getting up to the top of the fell from the pass, which I thought must have been because I had taken a wrong turning, but was actually because the path is just really difficult as I ended up struggling up very steep, rocky cliffs until, with great relief, I finally reached the top of the crags. I have climbed Kirkfell Crags from Black Sail Pass several times since and they have never been easy. A line of old fence posts should provide a sure guide, but since even these rock-climb up the crags that is what I had to do. From the top of the crags, despite the low cloud, navigation was easy as I simply followed the boundary posts and cairns that led me across the broad top until I reached the top of Kirk Fell where I was rewarded with views of Wastwater and Burnmoor Tarn through breaks in the clouds.

Continuing over the fell took me down to Beck Head where I took the path that I had taken the day before round the side of Kirk Fell and back to the Black Sail Pass. By the time I returned to the pass it had started to rain so I had to put my waterproofs on before continuing the walk over Looking Stead and up Pillar. I avoided the high level traverse to Robinson’s Cairn and the Pillar Rock because of the bad weather (just as I did last September) and stayed at the top of the ridge all the way up to the top of Pillar. This was a pleasant walk on an interesting ridge, and the rain stopped as I progressed along the ridge so that by the time I had reached the expansive summit the sun had come out. In the changeable weather conditions on this walk I was able to have my lunch at the summit of Pillar in bright sunshine while I thought about what I would do next. In view of the good weather I decided to descend to the Wind Gap and up to Scoat Fell.

When I reached the top of Scoat Fell I noticed dark clouds were heading towards the fells which signalled more rain so I decided that it was time to leave. I descended Scoat Fell over the top of Steeple, a small pinnacle on the northern edge of Scoat Fell, and followed the ridge of Long Crag all the way down into Ennerdale reaching the tree line just as the rain started again and my waterproofs came back on. Despite the OS map showing a right of way alongside Low Beck there is no footpath marked and the original version of Wainwright’s Pictorial Guide moans the lacks of paths, but the new revised Wainwright does show a path beside Low Beck even if it’s not recommended. I must have found this path on the ground following the route of the mapped right of way until I reached a forest road that ends just short of Low Beck. The trees in Ennerdale have restricted the routes off the fells for many years including some of the established right of ways and the route that I took is one such route that, back in 2003, I was able to use simply due to the determination of those who had gone before me. May they always continue to be navigable.

Once I had descended to the forest road I headed up the valley, across the River Liza on the memorial footbridge, and all the way back to Black Sail Hut. The hostel was now busier than the night before because it was curry night! I don’t know if Black Sail Hut still does curry night, but it was a wonderful evening with all the curry you can eat. I had a tremendous time during my two nights stay at the Black Sail Hut not just because of the quaint hostel in its stunning location but because I was able to share it with some really friendly and hospitable people. I don’t excel in crowds, but even I felt uplifted by the sheer enjoyment of socialising with people I’d not met before. It was a great experience and a highlight of my holiday, and possibly my best ever experience in the Lake District when not walking.

Thursday 19 December 2013

Esk Pike

The Lakes 2003, part 3
Wednesday 16th July 2003

The good weather that I had been enjoying continued on this walk where I saw some amazing sights from some really great mountains, but the weather was beginning to get too much for me. I started the walk by following the same route as the day before, a route that I was beginning to become familiar with and have used many times in the years that have followed. I passed along Langdale via Oak Howe before branching off my previous route at Side House to pass the front of the two Dungeon Ghyll hotels and take a bridlepath into the side valley of Mickleden. For this section of the walk I had the company of the chap with whom I’d had dinner the night before. He was from South Africa, which I thought does show that you get to meet lots of different people in youth hostels. He was walking the Cumbria Way, so at the end of Mickledon we parted company as he went over the Stake Pass while I climbed Rossett Gill. I had intended on following the bridlepath all the way up, but at a turning that Wainwright (in the original edition) described as being an ‘indistinct start of second zigzag (sharp left; on grass)’ I went straight on and ended up scrambling up bare earth beside the Gill.

I could see men working on the zigzags to create the hardwearing surface that now exists on the path, but ten years ago the direct route up was still very clear. When I came down this path last September I specifically looked for the point where I’d gone wrong ten years ago and it was completely overgrown. I don’t blame the National Trust for trying to prevent people from taking the gill route as it is very tricky and completely wore me out. Once over the top and around Angle Tarn I walked up to the Ore Gap and from there a short climb brought me to the glorious Esk Pike, a fell that I have since come to love, but now I was climbing it simply because I’d never been there before. However, my exertions while climbing Rossett Gill and up Esk Pike had been tremendously wearing in the heat of the middle of the day. After getting sunburnt on the back of my neck the day before I now wore my baseball cap back to front so the peak covered my sore neck rather than my forehead. The heat felt like it was draining the energy out of me so despite the views being just as good as the day before I didn’t feel like I was able to appreciate it.

While sitting at the summit of Esk Pike I put my waterproof on with the hood over my head, not because of any rain, but to shield my aching head from the hot, beating sun as I had my lunch. After eating I walked down to Esk Hause and along the path beside Sprinkling Tarn to Sty Head. After a rest in the shadow of the Rescue Box I headed up over the Windy Gap between Great Gable and Green Gable. This steep climb was also very trying, which further drained my energy, with loose scree making me work extra hard to get up to the top of the pass. The heat though wasn’t as much of a problem here because I took advantage of the delicious water that ran down the Aaron Slack. I hadn’t drunk stream water before, but in this case I had little choice because I had run out of the two litres of water that I had taken with me, and the freshly drawn water tasted so refreshingly cold that I decided I would have to make use of stream water again, especially when it is particularly hot. You shouldn’t rely on stream water and you do have to careful to ensure the water is uncontaminated, but if confident of the quality there is ‘nothing better ever came out of a barrel or a bottle.’

I dropped down the other side of the Windy Gap onto the Moses’ Trod path that runs by the side of the Gables and turned left to Dale Head, and from there I took the path that skirts around the side of Kirk Fell. I was heading to the Black Sail Youth Hostel, but I couldn’t see a path that went from the Moses’ Trod down Ennerdale to the Black Sail Hut. With hindsight I should have just descended the grassy slopes veering to the right onto the top of Tongue until I reached the path that comes down beside Loft Beck, or at least that is what I would have done now. Instead I followed a clear path to Beck Head and around Kirk Fell, until I eventually left the path half way round Kirk Fell and finally headed straight down the hillside into the valley to the footbridge over the River Liza and so to Black Sail Hut. This was my first visit to Black Sail and I was astonished by what I saw. It was so unlike any hostel that I had ever stayed in before as it was so relaxed and informal. We carried the dinner tables outside and had dinner with the fells all around us. I had never experienced anything like it before or probably since, and I loved it. The hot weather had been particularly draining on this walk, but I still went over some great fells and Black Sail was a delightful reward.

Thursday 12 December 2013

Pike O’Blisco, Crinkle Crags and Bow Fell

The Lakes 2003, part 2
Tuesday 15th July 2003

It was really hot on this walk, which taught me the importance of taking lots of water on walks, and to use a higher factor sun cream as my factor eight sun cream ultimately proved to be inadequate to the task. The walk was a true great: the Oxendale Horseshoe, but extended with the added burden of having to walk from the youth hostel along Great Langdale to the start of the walk at the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel and then back again at the end. The walk along Great Langdale was varied but pleasant and I have always enjoyed it while passing the Wainwright Inn (now called slightly differently: Wainwright’s Inn) and Oak Howe. Near the National Trust campsite I turned left up the grassy hillside on what at that time was a very muddy trail, but where a path has now been constructed to eliminate such problems. At the cattle grid near Side Pike I crossed the road and started to climb the steep slopes beside Redacre Gill under a blazing sun. I remember this climb as being really difficult, not so much for the steepness of the terrain but for the heat of the day. In the sweltering temperatures and with very little wind I was sweating profusely and got through at least half of my water at just that point of the ascent. This sort of weather may be good for sunbathing in, but it doesn’t make climbing fells easy.

Eventually the gradient levelled and on this more exposed plateau, almost two thousand feet above sea level, it was cooler with a little wind which made for a much more pleasant experience. The rest of the day was an absolute delight as I walked over three of the best fells in the Lake District for the first time, starting with the underrated Pike O’Blisco. A great climb took me up to the rock covered summit where a magnificent cairn stands proudly at the top and where tremendous views can be seen throughout the length of Great Langdale, but most notably straight across the valley to the Langdale Pikes that I’d climbed just the day before. In good weather the top of a fell in the Lake District is the best place you can possibly be and on just my second ever visit to the Lake District I was seeing the fells at their best and from an excellent vantage point. From the top of Pike O’Blisco I dropped down to Red Tarn and up between Cold Pike and Great Knott to a glorious scramble over the Crinkle Crags. I had enormous fun on the Crinkle Crags, most notably on the infamous ‘bad step’, a ten foot high almost vertical rock wall that 'is the most difficult obstacle met on any regular walkers’ path in Lakeland.'

I had no problem with the bad step and was soon up the rock wall and eventually reached the top of Crinkle Crags where I had my lunch. I saw some people near the top who had been particularly burnt by the sun and had turned a deep shade of red, but I was confident that this would not be a problem for me as I slapped on some more of my woefully inadequate sun cream. The continuation along the ridge took me up and down the rest of the Crinkle Crags and over the five crags of the adjacent Shelter Crags as I reflected that I would have had a very different experience if the conditions had been worse, but with the excellent weather that I was enjoying my traverse was tremendously enthralling. Once I had passed over the crags I descended to Three Tarns, which were almost dried up, and ascended Bow Fell to the highest point of the walk. After all my exertion while trying to get up the steep scree slope to the top of Bow Fell it was annoying to have to come all the way back down the same scree slope again little knowing that there is a terrace path that leads straight onto the descent. Wainwright recommends it even though it is difficult to find, but since it was not marked on OS maps I didn’t know about it in 2003, and I have not been on it since.

Instead I dropped steeply down to Three Tarns and from there descended the fell over White Stones and along the Band, a popular walkers’ highway. I had great fun hopping around from rock to rock while at the top of the fells where it was windy and cooler, but down in Langdale it was very hot and windless. It was astonishing how hot it became as I descended with the heat gradually building up to almost unbearable levels and despairingly I realised that I still had a long walk ahead of me all the way back along Great Langdale to the youth hostel. Before I reached my destination the back of my neck began to ache terribly from sunburn, and other exposed parts of my skin felt no better. I heard on the radio during my walk back to the hostel that it is not recommended to use sun cream below factor fifteen and I could now see why as despite using sun cream all day I had gotten burnt. This walk was very enjoyable, but only when I was not being boiled alive. Nevertheless I had just enjoyed my best ever day in the Lake District up to this point, and whatever the weather I was eager for more.

Thursday 5 December 2013

The Lakes 2003, part 1 – The Langdale Pikes

Monday 14th July 2003

Once again at this time of the year I don’t have a new walk to blog about, so as is customary for me I’m going to write about an old walk. Last year I described my first ever visit to the Lake District, back in 2002, and now I am going to advance a year and talk about my second ever visit to the Lake District. I had returned to the Lake District for a second visit because there were many fells that I hadn’t gone up the year before, and also because I had enjoyed it so much. I took a train up to Windermere and got into the first bus I saw that was going to Ambleside, until it broke down, and it had never even left the station! Just as it was beginning to look as though my luck on this occasion was going to be as bad as the previous year, the driver managed to get the bus started and I was able to catch my connection to Dungeon Ghyll. I had decided to walk up to the Langdale Pikes starting at the new hotel walking up the ‘usual route’, taking the path to the left of the Dungeon Ghyll stream climbing all the way up to the gap between Loft Crag and Thorn Crag.

At that time Britain was in the middle of a heatwave with temperatures in excess of 30° Celsius. The heat was overwhelming as I slowly made my way up the steep path and with the sweat pouring off me I found it very hard going. I have never taken this route since, but I’m sure a return visit would be worthwhile as the path seems to be well-engineered and would be a delight to walk upon again. Once up to the Pikes I was finally able to relax and cool off before heading towards Pike O’Stickle where I had my lunch. I remember the area around the top of the path being rather boggy, but littered with helicopter bags full of paving stones in preparation for the laying of the paths that now cross the area. From the great viewpoint of Pike O’Stickle I headed up to Harrison Stickle, the highest of the Langdale Pikes, and since this was the first time I’d been to the Langdale Pikes I was keen to bag as many tops as possible so once the Pikes had been bagged I headed north over Thunacar Knott but bypassed Pavey Ark little realising that this insignificant crag was also a Wainwright.

It wasn’t until a few years after I started going to the Lake District that I started reading Wainwright’s Pictorial Guides and only then did start to eagerly bag every fell that he mentions. I wasn’t interested in the books until I later found one in Ennerdale Youth Hostel and discovered how meticulously well drawn they were and useful for devising walks over the fells. Beyond Thunacar Knott I climbed broad grassy slopes up to the highest point on the walk, High Raise, which I had just missed out on the year before. On that occasion the weather had been poor, so rather than hunt around for the summit on the broad top I decided to come straight back down, but now I had no such problem finding the summit: it’s much easier when you can see where you’re going! From High Raise I headed southeast across the grassy plain to the prominent top of Sergeant Man and from there I made my own route down grassy slopes to Blea Rigg. There is a great freedom in making your own way across a hillside and not follow a path but just keeping your destination in sight and using the lie of the land to devise your own route.

From Blea Rigg a fabulous undulating landscape proceeds for mile and after mile over Castle How, Lang How and Silver How as I slowly descended making my own way along the ridge. In good weather, such as I was enjoying, there are few better ways off the fells than to follow this undulating ridge that leads all the way to the Langdale Youth Hostel at High Close. The ridge is riddled with faint footpaths, but there are so many you’ll probably never take exactly the same route twice. Instead I was free to make up my own route from top to top without any problems as the steep slopes on the edge of the ridge ensured that I stayed on course. Good weather is vital to ensure you know where you are, and if you want to come off the ridge at a particular point that you come off at the right point. It took me all afternoon to come down off the fells, but I enjoyed every moment of the descent with fantastic views throughout.

I remember at one point on the descent, probably near Silver Howe, I tried to get into the pouch at the top of my rucksack without taking the rucksack off my back. This foolhardy endeavour resulted in me breaking the zip and ensured that when I next returned to the Lake District I would have a new rucksack. The Langdale Pikes are very popular, iconic fells that stand out from far away, notably from the northern end of Windermere near Ambleside and the great weather ensured that once I was at the top of the fells I had a fabulous walk. I have been back to the Langdale Pikes on several occasions subsequently and despite their popularity they always produce great walks.

Thursday 28 November 2013

Grasmoor direct

Saturday 28th September 2013

I have wanted to do this climb for a long time, in fact ever since I first read Wainwright’s Pictorial Guide to the North Western Fells. Wainwright’s description of the direct ascent of Grasmoor was intriguingly tempting as he wrote that it was “on the whole … probably less difficult than the North Wall of the Eiger.” The western face of Grasmoor is certainly imposing and is a formidable object overlooking Lanthwaite and the northern end of Crummock Water. Every time I’ve planned to tackle the ascent weather has kept getting in my way. I tried to climb Grasmoor direct on the day of Will & Kate’s wedding in 2011, but eventually I used a different route to climb Grasmoor due to high winds, and then this year I chickened out once again due to snow and strong winds, so when good weather, one of the last really good days of the year, appeared I grabbed the opportunity to finally achieve my long-held desire of climbing Grasmoor direct.

I got up very early and drove for four hours to the Lake District, parking near Lanthwaite Green Farm at the foot of the steep western slopes of Grasmoor. The weather was perfect; after all my previous failed attempts I had just the right weather for the climb with hardly a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind. A short walk up rising slopes through bracken brought me to a steep scree run that was frustratingly slippery due to the severity of the gradient so I was greatly relieved when I finally managed to reach the top of the scree and climb through a rock gateway up a grassy rake that led me to a terrace where I could finally have a rest and contemplate my progress and the views. Wainwright mentions a ‘fat man’s agony’ at this point, a narrow squeeze between two splintered rocks, but the worn way now avoids the splintered rocks by simply scrambling up the rocks to the left, and the fat man’s agony is seemingly no longer in use (so maybe the ascent would be less painful for Wainwright now).

An all-too-short scramble up a shallow arête led me to a pinnacle where there seemed to be many alternative routes but I was determined to take the most challenging along the very edge of the arête, which brought to mind something I’d recently read in 'The Great Outdoors' magazine about solo walking. The article was treating solo walking as something ‘you must try’ as if most people would never do it, but I have always solo walked right from the beginning, and so I don’t consider it as dangerous. But as I was scrambling up the arête I realised that no one knew I where I was, I hadn’t told anyone I was going to the Lake District, only that I was going for a walk. If I’d slipped off that arête I’d have really had problems as I’d still not seen anyone all day and it would be another 24 hours before I was going to be missed, and even then they wouldn’t have known where to look.

After this cheery thought I reached the pinnacle from where I could see that I still had some way to go along a rough curving ridge that leads up to Grasmoor End, the prominent terminus of the Grasmoor summit plateau. From this vantage point I had fantastic views towards Buttermere and the Scafell Pikes on the horizon, and also across Lorton Vale to Loweswater. I had been in the shade throughout the climb, but now I was bathed in glorious sunshine on this wonderful day with views all around. After absorbing the view I walked across the grass and moss of the summit plateau to the top of Grasmoor from where I crossed the plateau to the northern edge and the awe-inspiring Dove Crags. It would be great if there was a walk up those crags but the best that Wainwright had to offer was around the edge so I would have to be content now to walk along the top and slowly descend straight down to Coledale Hause with Grisedale Pike ahead of me and Skiddaw looming large on the horizon.

I enjoyed the path down to Coledale Hause as it is little used and delightfully rough, but it soon leads onto the well-used path across Coledale Hause. I had been aiming for Grisedale Pike, but on a sudden whim I headed up the steep slopes of Sand Hill, simply because I’d never climbed them before. From there I soon reached the popular path that skirts around the top of Hobcarton Crag near Hopegill Head where I turned right around the top of the crags and all the way to the top of Grisedale Pike. There were fantastic views from the top so I sat on the side the hill and had my lunch while trying keep away from the crowds at the summit. I returned back along the fantastic terrain at the top of Hobcarton Crags to Hopegill Head where I veered north off the main ridge and down a steep, narrow ridge that leads excitingly to Ladyside Pike. I had visited this fell just once before in 2005, but now I returned in much better weather, not for the sake of Ladyside Pike, but for the craggy ridge that leads to it from Hopegill Head.

It was exciting to scramble down the steep crags to the Notch, and even more exciting on the return when the winds seemed to have picked up and provoked more caution, until eventually I returned safely to Hopegill Head. With the great weather continuing I proceeded along the narrow, rocky ridge that leads from Hopegill Head to Whiteside, which I had started to walk along last Easter and was turned back by strong winds, but I had no such problem this time and easily reached Whiteside, my final fell of the year. While sitting on the side of the fell I gazed out across the Cumbrian coastal plain towards Scotland and contemplated the fact that this was undoubtedly my last mountain walk of the year, so I reflected on the last nine months. This has been a rather nostalgic year for me as I returned repeatedly to the Lake District reliving great ascents that I’d remembered from the past without really going anywhere new all year, not even in Scotland. Next year I will have to visit some new areas, but I can’t forget about the Lake District. Despite returning frequently this year I’m not tired of the place and instead I am just as desperate to return. It seems the more times I go, the more times I want to come back.

As much as I loved the climb of Grasmoor it was ultimately disappointing as it didn’t last long enough to be truly satisfying. It was too easy; the description by Wainwright made me think it was going to be hard, but it was nowhere near as difficult as the North Wall of the Eiger. I suppose after all that hype it could never live up to it. After the climb I had a glorious stroll through the North Western Fells, but there’s no hiding the fact that the whole day had been about one climb that was over by half-ten which left me with almost a whole day to fill, albeit in glorious weather. After my long contemplations at Whiteside I decided that I didn’t want to descend by the same route that I’d taken at Easter so I descended north from the east top down knee-crushing heather slopes to Dodd. The end of the walk was marred by a horribly steep descent through heather off the end of Dodd, but once I was on the fell-wall path I had a pleasant walk back to my car at Lanthwaite Green.

Thursday 21 November 2013

Allen Crags

Saturday 7th September 2013

After suffering with torrential rain on the day before, I had hoped for something better on this walk, but it wasn’t to be. It was raining when I left Borrowdale Youth Hostel, which is really depressing as you know you have a pathetic day coming up, and it continued to rain all day. It is better if you can start the day well, then you have hope it’ll continue like that, but when it starts bad you think it will never end, which makes it hard to start. I started the walk by returning along the now familiar path to Seathwaite along the same route that I’d taken just two days previously. It had not occurred to me until this point that the way I’d planned this holiday was to go from Langdale to Borrowdale on Wednesday and to Wasdale on Thursday, and then return to Borrowdale on Friday and back to Langdale on Saturday. On the last day of my holiday I was returning to where I'd started and unfortunately I didn’t have good weather for it. When I got to Stockley Bridge I finally parted company with Thursday’s route as rather than heading towards Sty Head and Wasdale I continued beside Grains Gill.

This hugely popular path is heavily manufactured as it is often used as a route up to Scafell Pike and the occasions when I have used it in the past has been while ascending or descending that great crowd-pulling mountain. Despite this it’s not a bad route with a few interesting easy scrambles and I quite enjoyed the climb up the valley towards the grey murk lurking around the imposing face of Great End. At the top of the path I crossed Ruddy Gill and joined the highway-like path between Langdale and Sty Head heading up to the col just below Esk Hause that is often confused with that pass. This slightly lower pass is the highest point on the path and is not far from the top of Allen Crags. My plan for this day had been to climb Thornythwaite Fell on my way up to Glaramara before walking along the ridge to Allen Crags and from there along the highway to Langdale. I had decided against this plan in view of the weather, but since I was now so close to the summit of Allen Crags I decided to nip up to the wind-swept top, which elicited a questioning response from a passing walker who had seen me go up and immediately come back down to the pass.

The weather was even worse at the summit of Allen Crags, so having slapped my hands onto the summit cairn I turned around and came back down again. From this point the rain started to ease slightly and briefly stopped before starting once again with renewed vigour, which obliterated any thought I had that the weather would get better, so I disconsolately continued along the highway and  dropped down to Angle Tarn and then up to Rossett Pass. On this last climb of my holiday I became rather sad at the thought of leaving the Lake District and that Allen Crags might have been my last mountain of the year. I remember standing at the top of Stob Ghabhar a couple of years ago at the end of my holiday in Scotland thinking that I wouldn’t see the view from the top of a mountain again till the following year. Although I have since cautiously ventured into the world of winter walking I still prefer to do all my walking in the spring and summer so I still have that moment when my six month exile is about to begin. You can’t beat a good summer’s walk over great mountains and I am going to miss it.

Beyond the top of Rossett Pass I started to descend the excellent path that leads into Mickledon and Langdale and I reflected that I hadn’t properly been on this path before. I had climbed out of Mickledon to Rossett Pass in 2003, but I took a wrong turning, missed the start of the zigzags and climbed straight up beside Rossett Gill. Wainwright described Rossett Gill as the best-known of the Lakeland foot-passes due to its stoniness which had been getting worse year after year. Improvements to the path have now made the route very much easier and is actually a pleasure with the direct route no longer apparent and the zigzags were a delightful descent along a wonderfully engineered path, especially at a point where the path drops through a short stony gully. This may be a lovely route, but the rain was showing no signs of easing as I slowly made my way down to the bottom of the valley and along Mickledon to Langdale.

By the time I reached the hiker's bar at the old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel I had wet feet and was soaked, so I refused to leave the bar until the rain had stopped. My holiday may have ended with two very wet days, but I had enjoyed some fabulous weather earlier in the week. I had walked along some very popular paths that have been heavily engineered to cope with thousands of pairs of feet every year, but they pass through some truly stunning mountain scenery. Rossett Gill may be a very popular path (and even on this walk in torrential rain there were dozens of walkers on the path), but it passes through some of the best rock scenery in the country. For most of this holiday I had concentrated on the area of the Lake District around Scafell Pike where the indisputably best scenery anywhere in the Lake District is located. After a couple of drinks in the hiker's bar the sun finally came out but by that time the bus had arrived to start my journey home and it wouldn’t be long before the rain was back, and so would I.

Thursday 14 November 2013

Whin Rigg and the Corridor Route

Friday 6th September 2013

After the wonderful weather that I enjoyed just two days previously, the weather on my holiday was becoming gradually worse until on this walk I had persistent rain that left me completely wet by the end of the day. It wasn’t raining when I started so I quickly set off to Lund Bridge and up the steep bank beside Greathall Gill to Whin Rigg. I had come down this way seven years ago in a hurry, but not this time as rain began to fall soon after I started to climb the steep, bracken covered slope. On reaching the top of the ridge I headed across the broad grassy terrain to the top of Whin Rigg, another first-time ascent for me, where sheer crags fall scarily down to the screes of Wastwater. During the course of the morning rain passed over me in waves, but it was still very windy and deterred me from exploring too closely to the perilous edges of the crags. Nevertheless I ventured as close to the edge as I dared in order to get a good view down the precipitous slopes and take a few pictures.

I continued along the fell beside the edge of the crags making my way across to the neighbouring top of Illgill Head and then all the way down to Wasdale Head on a great path in the best weather I got all day with the giants of Wasdale Head brooding before me under dark clouds. I had taken a similar route to Borrowdale from Wastwater in 2010, although I took the lakeside path then below the Screes instead of over the tops before climbing Scafell Pike. My plan for this day had been to once again climb Scafell Pike, but eventually I decided that this wasn’t the best day to climb the highest mountain in England. My easiest route over the fells to Borrowdale would have been to follow Lingmell Beck up to Sty Head, but I fancied taking a tougher route to Sty Head over Lingmell Col and along the Corridor Route. This involved climbing the tourist route towards Scafell Pike, which is usually a very busy path, but not on this day as soon after I started the climb it started to rain again and this time it would keep falling for the rest of the day.

As I climbed Brown Tongue the clouds descended around me and the rain fell ever harder. On occasions like this you can only keep your head down and keep going along the path hoping to reach your destination as quickly as possible. After sheltering from the rain at Hollow Stones while having my lunch, I finally reached Lingmell Col where I saw a large group of people resolutely walking from Corridor Route up towards Scafell Pike in the high winds, driving rain and low cloud. I don’t know who they were, but it was the first time I’d seen that many people since starting the climb. I passed over the col and immediately started to descend again, this time on the excellent Corridor Route. It’s been many years since I was last on this route and in places the demon path-builder has had his evil way and ruined what was a delightful path, but in many places it’s still just as good as it’s always been.

I guess the path repair is unavoidable as the problem is popularity with the more people who use a path the more it wears away requiring work to prevent erosion that itself detracts from the delectable quality of the route. The proximity of Scafell Pike means that this route is often used by people climbing that mountain (such as the group I saw) and so such remedial work will be required. It is a pity that I can’t have the Lake District to myself. The Corridor Route retains the scrambles that make the route so fun and interesting, and also fortunately deters the passing tourist from using it. The continuing rain failed to ruin my enthusiasm for this excellent path as I satisfyingly made my way along the route and eventually reached Sty Head for the third time in three days. The weather was getting worse each time I was there and I feared to visit the pass a fourth time in four days lest even worse should await me.

On coming down from Sty Head I decided to stay on the left bank of the Sty Head Gill rather than crossing the bridge on the bridlepath. On my first visit to this area I took the footpath on the left bank of the stream and ever since I have always favoured that route over the more popular bridlepath, and this occasion was no different despite the poor weather. The path was very faint, seemingly rarely walked, fortunately, with the wet conditions making it particularly tricky especially on the scrambly sections near Taylor Gill Force where the path descends perilously along a cliff edge above the waterfall. This is a fantastic route, and great fun no matter what the weather, especially due to the close views one gets of Taylor Gill Force. Once I reached Seathwaite Farm I returned to Borrowdale Youth Hostel by walking along the road to Seatoller.

Despite the weather on this walk I think I really did get the most out of the day by walking in some tremendous mountain scenery and along some great paths, even though I got awfully wet. When I got to the hostel I found that my rucksack, an Osprey Talon 33, had failed to keep anything inside it dry. This rucksack had been bought last Christmas, but the only time it had previously been used was last Easter when it had failed to rain all week so this was the first time that the rucksack had been exposed to persistent rain. It is a good rucksack and I’m considering buying another Osprey pack, but it is not waterproof and my Osprey Talon was not the only one in the hostel drying room that evening. Whether that is a reflection of its popularity or its ineffectiveness in the wet I don’t know, but I will have to remember to make better use of waterproof linings in the future. This may have been a wet day that left me and everything in my rucksack soaked, but it was a good walk through tricky conditions.

Thursday 7 November 2013

Seathwaite Fell and Pillar

Thursday 5th September 2013

After the tremendous weather on the day before this walk, it was disappointing to now have weather that was very poor. It hadn’t started too badly as I walked towards the small farm of Seathwaite, a gateway from Borrowdale onto the glorious fells that culminate in the highest of them all: Scafell Pike. Beyond Seathwaite I continued along the heavily manufactured bridlepath to Sty Head even though I rarely go this way as my preferred path is the much rougher route on the opposite side of Taylorgill Force. On the few occasions that I have used the bridlepath it has always been in descent, the last time being the reverse of the climb I was about to do. On New Year’s Eve 2008, after a fantastic walk above a temperature inversion, I descended into the cold valley from Seathwaite Fell, and now I reversed my steps of that walk to climb Seathwaite Fell, for the first time. Seathwaite Fell dominates the view from the valley below even though it is tiny compared with the greater fells beyond like Great End and Great Gable.

Wainwright describes two routes up Seathwaite Fell, straight up the northern face or further round the western side of the fell. Previously I used the latter, easier route for my descent and had planned to take the former, steeper route in ascent, but with the clouds dropping in worsening weather conditions I chickened out and stayed on the main path until the gradient levelled out before striking out up pathless grassy slopes following a stream up the steep fellside. By the time I reached the felltop the clouds had inevitably encompassed me, but a fleeting glimpse of the summit before clouds smothered the view was sufficient to enable me to find my way to the cairn at the top of the fell. Low clouds are not an uncommon occurrence in the Lakes so you do have to be able to cope with it. It wasn’t easy to get across the small fell onto the busy bridlepath that marks the southern edge as there are no clear paths. I had to make a bearing and follow that direction across the undulating fell until I reached the unmistakable Sprinkling Tarn and the clear path beyond that I had walked along only the day before, but in better weather.

As then, I walked down the path to Sty Head and this time turned right towards Sty Head Tarn. Rain started to fall before I reached the foot of Aaron Slack, but stopped soon after I started the excruciatingly long climb. It’s a long time since I was last on the Aaron Slack and I had forgotten how long it takes to reach Windy Gap at the top. The clouds prevented me from seeing how far I had to go as I climbed up, first on stone pitching, then on loose stones, then back onto stone pitching until finally back onto loose stones for a long, long haul up to the top. I was relieved to finally reach Windy Gap where at this point I wanted to take a thin path that runs along the foot of Gable Crag, which is the North Traverse of Great Gable, the smaller cousin of the South Traverse that I had taken the day before. I had never been on it before, but wasn’t really able to appreciate it now as I wasn’t seeing it at its best, nevertheless it was a great little path and tricky, especially as the ground was quite wet due to the recent rain.

Before too long the traverse joined the path that comes off the top of Great Gable and down scree to Beck Head where I had contemplated continuing up and over Kirk Fell, but eventually due to the poor weather I decided to take the traverse route around the northern slopes of the fell. I have taken this path several times in the past most often on my way to Black Sail Youth Hostel, and always remember the route with affection. It is a great little path that I probably used several times on my first couple of visits to the Lakes, but never since. After a dramatic crossing of Sail Beck, I climbed up to the top of Black Sail Pass and was met by a parting of the clouds and a glimpse into Mosedale. I was hopeful for better weather in the afternoon so I stopped there for lunch, but by the time I’d sat down the clouds had already descended again. After resuming my walk along the path I came to the junction with the High Level Route, a terrace path across the steep slopes of Pillar to Robinson’s Cairn that I have harboured a desire to do for many years and been unable due to bad weather so I felt frustrated that I to be thwarted once again.

When I reached the junction I did obstinately turn onto the High Level Route, despite the poor weather and maybe hoping for better, but immediately found problems. Wainwright describes the start as originally being awkward, but that a new variation avoids the difficulty. From what I saw, the new variation is now just as awkward (although I may have missed the new variation) as I struggled to get down a steep, slippery, muddy gully onto the path, and it didn’t improve. The path had been poor in 2006 when I did the route from the other direction and eventually the wet, slippery path finally convinced me to turn back and climb back up to the top of the ridge. I am still eager to do the High Level Route, but this tricky path is going to need to be done in good weather. The zigzags above the junction were an interesting diversion from my disappointment before continuing along easier grassier slopes as I slowly made my way up to the top of Pillar while the clouds briefly broke to let the sun to come out. A joyous view, pictured below, into Mosedale was unfortunately just as fleeting as before and the clouds descended once more.

I had an enjoyable walk up to the top of Pillar despite the clouds refusing to part again and I had forgotten how good this eastern ridge of Pillar is, possibly because it might be a long time since I was last on the ridge. From the top of Pillar I headed down a stony path to the narrow Wind Gap before climbing up to the top of the tragically ignored top of Black Crag. After a bit of confusion coming off Black Crag I made my way up to the top of Scoat Fell and eventually found the bizarre summit cairn that is carefully balanced on top of the dry stone wall that runs over the fell. While coming down the southern slopes I was astonished to find the clouds finally lifting and Red Pike was revealed before me. I visited this fell in 2011, but had failed to locate the famous cairn known as the Chair, so this time I made an effort to find it, aided by the lifting clouds. It was great to sit on the Chair and look across the brightening lands all the way to the sea in the distance and to the still gloomy fells behind me. Despite poor weather this was a fun, challenging walk that finally ended with a long, glorious walk down the grassy, southern slopes of Red Pike in good weather all the way down to Over Beck and the road.

Thursday 31 October 2013

Bow Fell and Great Gable

Wednesday 4th September 2013

On this fabulous day in the Lakes I left the Elterwater Youth Hostel first thing in the morning under misty conditions that didn’t take long to clear and reveal a scorchingly sunny day. A brisk cold wind at the top of the fells kept the temperature agreeable and guaranteed perfect weather conditions in the best place in the world for a walk and I made full advantage of the weather to do a scintillating walk over some of the greatest fells in the Lake District. At the start of the day I simply walked along the length of Langdale from Elterwater back to Dungeon Ghyll along the same route that I had taken last year via Baysbrown, but different to the route that I’d taken the previous evening when I came to Elterwater via Chapel Stile. This is a nice varied route, parts of which provoked many memories of having taken this route numerous times over the years.

After crossing various sheep-filled fields I passed through Stool End Farm and began to climb the popular path that ascends the Band on my way to Bow Fell. The only time I had ever previously been on this route was over ten years ago when I came off Bow Fell along this ridge following a walk around Oxendale in very hot weather. I wasn’t impressed with the route now as the ridge is too wide to be exciting and the path is heavily manufactured to cope with the thousands of people who traipse along it every summer. The best way to do this path is in descent with the awesome views along the length of Langdale ahead of you all the way down. When the path started to veer left towards Three Tarns I came off the path to keep to the top of the ridge on a boggy path that went up towards the climber’s traverse. This fabulous terrace path traces a narrow route high above the valley floor of Mickledon and just below the awesome rocks of Flat Crags. This was my second ever visit to the excellent rock-scenery on this path and it was just as breath-taking now as in 2007.

I love terrace paths, perched high above the valley with a sheer drop on just one side and a towering cliff on the other. At the foot of Cambridge Crag I stopped for a couple of minutes to take in the awe-inspiring surroundings and then started to climb a river of boulders that lies along the south side of Cambridge Crag. This led me up to the summit of Bow Fell where I paused briefly before heading across the boulder strewn terrain past Easy Gully to the top of Bowfell Buttress. The views in the perfect weather were sensational and emphasised just how fortunate I was to be at the top of these fells on such a day as this. From this vantage point the true structure of Bow Fell could be seen, including the climber’s traverse that I’d just walked along. Following the top of the ridge, rather than the path, I made my way across to Ore Gap and then up to the top of Esk Pike where I had my lunch sheltered from the cold winds by the summit rock.

Esk Pike tends to be ignored by fellwalkers due to its illustrious company, but I love it as it doesn’t shout about itself and quietly sits in the centre of the best fells in the Lakes, which affords it with stunning views of all of them. Making my way along a fabulous little terrace path, I made my way down to Esk Hause and thence down to Sty Head along familiar paths that seemed more pleasant to walk along than I’d remembered. After passing Sty Head I made my way onto another climber’s traverse: the South Traverse of Great Gable. After negotiating rocks and crossing scree slopes with tremendous views down Wasdale, I reached the awesome crags of the Great Napes. These crags are very popular with rock climbers with notable attention paid to the Napes Needle, including some climbers who were on the pinnacle while I passed far below. I was happy with my distant vantage point as rock climbing is not something that I am remotely interested in doing.

Just after passing the peculiarly shaped Sphinx Rock I reached Little Hell Gate, a stone chute that I hoped would provide me with a route up to the top of Great Gable. Keeping to the side of the loose, slippery stones that fill the steep gully, I slowly climbed Little Hell Gate and eventually, after much effort, reached the top of Great Napes. This is an incredible place to stand, usually the preserve of rock climbers, that affords one with great views of the surrounding crags and where a short, narrow ridge links to the main bulk of Great Gable and a delicious path that leads around the Westmorland Crag to the top of the fell. In 2004 I did the whole south traverse without climbing Great Gable, while in 2006 I walked along the traverse in the opposite direction before climbing White Napes on the opposite side of Little Hell Gate. Now that I was up close with Great Napes I completed the climb of Great Gable in awe of the towering pinnacles and enormous crags.

From the top of Great Gable I made my way across horrible shifting stones down to the Windy Gap and from there up to Green Gable, which I’d visited just last Easter when it was still covered in winter snow. My planned route of descent was over Base Brown, but that was the route I had used in 2006 after climbing Great Gable via White Napes, so I felt compelled to do something different now. While planning I’d contemplated a route of ascent over Grey Knotts, and now I suddenly thought about using it in descent where it would be more appreciated.  I was concerned that this route would take too long so I rushed across Gillercombe Head and up to Brandreth, and from there across to Grey Knotts. I had a thoroughly exciting descent from Grey Knotts along a pathless, grassy ridge that took me all the way down to Borrowdale as I took every advantage of the good weather. This was a perfect day in the Lakes over great mountains; it is the memory of days like this that keep you coming back to the Lakes.

Thursday 24 October 2013

Sergeant Man and the Langdale Pikes

Tuesday 3rd September 2013

At the start of this day the weather was really poor with clouds all the way down to the level of the trees that line the valley that contains the village of Grasmere. As I started my walk it looked like it was going to be a dreary day, but as I climbed up Easedale I could see breaks in the clouds where the sun was trying to break through, which hinted that things were not going to stay this way. It was a joy to walk along the lovely path that climbs past the waterfalls of Sourmilk Gill, despite the low cloud, with the sun occasionally breaking through and enveloping me in a heavenly ray of light while all around was dull. Beyond the waterfalls the gradient leveled off into the hidden valley of Easedale Tarn, which felt all the more delectable due to the low cloud a short distance above my head. After passing Easedale Tarn, the path began to climb once more with the clouds keeping pace above my head, rising as I climbed into the awesome cove edged by Blea Crag, Eagle Crag and Slapstone Edge. This is a great path, but I hadn’t previously walked along the whole length of it before because on my previous visit to Easedale Tarn, in 2006, I left the path at the lake to climb up to Blea Rigg.

I now had an enjoyable time climbing this excellent, well laid-out path with occasional scrambles and couldn’t understand why Wainwright had been so dismissive of the route saying it was too ‘deep enclosed to be attractive’, but the clouds ensured that I wouldn’t have had a view even if I hadn’t been stuck in a deep valley. As the clouds began to break a distinctive pointed peak appeared ahead and seemed to draw me on. This was Belles Knott and as I came alongside it the clouds lifted completely to reveal blue skies that promised smashing weather for the rest of the day. Although the back of Belles Knott is not the craggy face that it presents to Easedale Tarn, I couldn’t resist climbing up the grassy slopes and taking in the views that can be seen from the top down Easedale. On returning to the main path I resumed my climb on a path that from this point I had taken before (last year) and passes through an interesting stone gully before reaching the top of the path at a crossroad of paths with the Langdale Pikes arrayed in awesome splendour across the bowl of Stickle Tarn.

Last year, I turned left at this point towards Blea Rigg, but now I turned right towards Sergeant Man on a path that I have wanted to walk along for a long time, until now. I had always assumed the path follows the top of the ridge, but there appeared to be no path there and it wasn’t until I’d hunted around for a bit that I discovered a faint, cairned path that climbs just to the east of the ridge. I followed this excellent route up the broad, craggy ridge all the way to a small top that is marked on maps simply as ‘Pile of Stones’, but across a depression was the top that I was aiming for: the shapely peak of Sergeant Man. I consider the first ascent of the day to be the most significant while anything else that I do during the rest of the day is just ridge routes and not true ascents, so on this walk I did my first ever ascent of Sergeant Man after all my previous visits had merely been ridge routes, usually from High Raise.

I reached the top of the fells before noon and according to my plan for the day I had to find something to occupy myself for the next four hours in the relatively small area of the Langdale Pikes. However, I didn’t have much planned so I mostly made it up as I went along, starting with nipping across boggy ground to Codale Head and then over to the top of the broad grassy mound of High Raise. This vast fell is very dull compared with the nearby Langdale Pikes, but it is the highest point in the Central Fells and affords tantalising views into Borrowdale and across Derwent Water to Keswick. Turning my back on Keswick, I headed across long slopes towards the Langdale Pikes, stopping at the inconsequential Wainwright of Thunacar Knott before heading across the boulder strewn terrain to the top of what Wainwright called North Rake. Half way down I came off North Rake into Easy Gully, but half way down that I found my way blocked by huge boulders. I trembled at the thought of trying to drop down this big step so reluctantly I headed back up to North Rake and continued my descent there.

I may have found Easy Gully easier in ascent, but I didn’t fancy taking the risk in descent, which necessitated my encircling the bottom of North Rake and crossing steep slopes until I reached the bottom of Easy Gully where the start of Jack’s Rake lay enticingly nearby. I had my lunch while gazing across Stickle Tarn and contemplated my prospects on the rake. I previously climbed this treacherous route in 2007 and considered it the scariest thing I had ever done in the Lake District, but looking at it from a distance now I couldn’t see what the problem had been. After taking a brave pill I started Jack’s Rake, which is technically considered a rock climb, and soon I remembered what had terrified me six years ago. Wainwright said that while on the rake his mind had been fully occupied with nothing but a primitive desire for survival and that was exactly how I felt. There were moments when I was at a loss as to how to go any further, I felt stuck, cragfast, fearing that I was going to fall, but somehow eventually I found a way up. Once past the hardest section I collapsed into a heap and with shaking legs I ate an energy bar and had a drink before resuming the climb confident that the worst was now over.

The rest of the rake is still not easy, but I did eventually reach the sunshine at the top of Jack’s Rake in one piece, even though I was panting heavily. After a rest I decided that my best course over the Langdale Pikes would be to head across the pathless fellside north of the pikes to the western-most pike: Pike of Stickle and then head back across the tops to the highest of the pikes: Harrison Stickle. This final pike is deservedly very popular so when I finally reached the top I didn't stay there long before dropping back down onto the path that crosses the steep, southern slopes of the pike above the deep ravine of Dungeon Ghyll. The weather was fabulous all afternoon with stunning views down Langdale all the way to Windermere in the distance with beautiful, lush green trees between them. My path down descended steep grassy slopes to the splendid viewpoint of Pike Howe and eventually ended at the Dungeon Ghyll Hotel. This was a fun, enjoyable walk, terrifying at times, but also exciting, challenging and tiring while walking in fantastic weather over amazingly complex fells.

Thursday 17 October 2013

Stone Arthur and Fairfield

Monday 2nd September 2013

For the fourth time this year I was back in the Lake District and this time I had left my tent at home (and my back was very appreciative of that!) as I went back to using the small rucksack that I’d last used at Easter with a week when I would walk from hostel to hostel, and it felt wonderful to have such a light rucksack on my back again. Due to commitments at home I was unable to start this holiday until after the weekend so I had the unusual experience (for me) of catching a train during the crazy Monday morning rush hour and eventually reached Windermere an hour late (thanks to the infamous punctuality of Virgin Trains). I now had a decision to make: considering the poor, drizzly weather that was in the Lake District when I got there, do I stick with my original plan of climbing Helvellyn or do I catch an earlier bus only as far as Grasmere and do a different walk? Since the title of this post is not Helvellyn it’s obvious that I caught the Grasmere bus, getting off opposite the Swan Hotel just outside the village, to do a more interesting walk than I would have got by going up Helvellyn.

Behind the Swan Hotel, I climbed a delightful lane that has a lovely stream running beside it under a tree-covering. I last came up this way Easter last year, also in poor weather, on my way to Alcock Tarn, but on this occasion at the top of the lane, instead of turning right over a small bridge, I turned left and followed a wall steeply up the fellside with dense bracken on one side and a coniferous wood on the other side of the wall. Before moving away from the cover of the trees I had some lunch and then continued along the path that weaves a course across the fellside gradually climbing towards the prominent tor of rock that is known as Stone Arthur. My only previous visit to Stone Arthur had been in descent in dwindling light at the end of an ambitiously long walk all the way from Windermere Station, so this was now my first ascent of Stone Arthur. I remember last time I was unsure which of the crags on the ridge was the actual Wainwright summit, but from my perspective now in coming up the fell it was obvious as Stone Arthur is very prominent in the views.

This is really just a descending ridge coming down from Great Rigg, so after passing Stone Arthur I wrapped myself more tightly in waterproofs against the harshening weather and proceeded to walk up the gradually ascending ridge that is dotted with rocky outcrops. This was an enjoyable climb, despite the weather, and it wasn’t long before I plunged into the clouds as I reflected that it must have been a while since I last did a walk in low clouds; I’d almost missed it. Eventually the ridge steepened and led me up to the summit of Great Rigg, which I don’t think I’ve visited since that time in 2006 when I descended the ridge that I’d now just climbed; the eastern arm of the Fairfield Horseshoe seems to have held more appeal to me than this side. I contemplated correcting my neglect of this arm of the horseshoe by turning south and descending over Heron Pike, but eventually Fairfield itself won as I continued along the ridge north up to the broad summit. Navigation is difficult on Fairfield in poor weather and even though I located the summit without any difficulty finding the correct way off was tricky.

It was very windy, cold and wet on the summit of Fairfield and this was hampering my efforts to find the route I wanted towards Cofa Pike off the summit, but eventually after a lot of unnecessary wandering around the plateau I managed to find the right direction. The ridge over Cofa Pike is a fabulous scramble that I had particularly wanted to do even though it was not actually in the direction that I ultimately wanted to go. The wet and windy conditions just made the narrow, rocky ridge even more exciting until eventually it led me down to Deepdale Hause. There is a path between Deepdale Hause and Grisedale Tarn after Wainwright suggested that ‘some public-spirited hiker with nothing better to do would serve his fellows well by stamping out a track and cairning it.’ This has been done but the path is rather faint until a cairned junction is reached. I was intrigued by this excellent, clearer path so I turned right along it and it seems to head across the fellside towards St Sunday Crag, but I couldn’t see where it went in the poor weather, though I would love to find out where this well-made path goes.

Eventually I returned back along this good path to the junction and confidently followed it down to Grisedale Tarn where I was able to join the popular path that climbs out of Grisedale on its way to Grasmere over Grisedale Hause. It had stopped raining as I left Fairfield, but the ground was still very wet and I found the pitched stones of the path coming down from Grisedale Hause very slippery. I don’t know if my old boots were not as grippy as they could have been, but I was having a really difficult time on this heavily manufactured path and I wished I’d had my walking poles with me. In fact, I didn’t slip over until I was off the pitched stone path; maybe I was thinking that I didn’t need to be so careful at that point. The stone pitching soon ended and left me with a delightful walk down into Grasmere. This was a fabulous walk, even though it was short and most of the time it was raining, windy and cloudy. It just shows why I could keep coming back to the Lake District: in any weather it is a fantastic place to walk. The path beside Tongue Gill as I came off the fells reminded of the beautiful little places that are so abundant in the Lake District. Thanks to the weather and a missed train connection I did a walk that was probably a lot better than the one I’d originally planned.

Thursday 10 October 2013

Blea Tarn and Irton Pike

Sunday 28th July 2013

This day did not go to plan, all due to the changeable weather. My glorious camp location at the top of Harter Fell in the Lake District was not so special in the morning after heavy rain fell all night and left me with a damp, misty start to the day. I ate my breakfast while it was still raining and clouds completely enveloped the mountain. During a lull in the rain I broke camp and set off down the fell, disconsolately realising that all my carefully laid plans for the day of walking along the broad ridge of Birker Fell and Ulpha Fell all the way to the south-western corner of the Lake District on Black Combe would have to be abandoned. I needed good, clear weather for that walk to succeed and above all little rain as boggy ground and poor visibility would have made the walk not only difficult, but not at all enjoyable. Instead I headed straight back down the mountain the way I’d come.

When I got to Spothow Gill, the gentle stream that I had easily crossed the evening before, I found a raging torrent that could not be crossed with any measure of safety. Since I couldn’t descend that way I stayed on the main footpath veering to the right and crossing the northern slopes of Harter Fell I eventually reached the bottom of the valley at Jubilee Bridge. I hadn’t intended on going all the way to Jubilee Bridge and actually I had intended on taking the route that I have taken on a couple of previous occasions down to Whahouse Bridge, but I completely missed the turning and ended up on a great track that I hadn’t taken before that leads to the foot of Hardknott Pass beside Jubilee Bridge. Ultimately I needed to head back towards the coast so I turned around and followed the edge of the fell-wall along a path that took me back to Penny Hill Farm. The day before I had walked beside the River Esk as far as Doctor Bridge, so now when I reached the bridge I crossed it and followed the river downstream on the opposite bank.

By this time the rain had stopped and the sun briefly came out which added sparkles to the water that was passing under Doctor Bridge. I had an enjoyable walk along the slightly over-grown path, beside the river, until eventually I reached St Catherine’s Church where I noticed that the stepping stones that had been perfectly safe the day before were now completely submerged. It was a good thing I wasn’t planning on going that way; instead I walked out to the valley road and Dalegarth Station on the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway. I was still unsure what I was going to do having debated with myself all the way down Eskdale and had still not reached a decision. I contemplated taking the train to Ravenglass and then the mainline train to the foot of Black Combe so I could accomplish at least some of my original plan.

When I discovered that the mainline trains don’t run on a Sunday I abandoned that idea, left the station and walked up to the delightful hamlet of Boot. From there I climbed the fells that overlook Bootm mainly because I’d never been on those fells before. There is no definite summit in this area with the highest point, Boat How, being too far away and not significant enough for me to bother with, so instead I headed toward Blea Tarn, which is a lovely lake in a pleasant setting. A steep climb brought me onto the open moor where relics of a mining past littered the area, but were too meagre to add much interest. The earlier sun had not lasted long and now an overcast sky, cold winds and murky views accompanied me as I had my lunch. Things soon improved, however, with the terrain as I made my way along a slender path down a ravine to the shore of Blea Tarn, an attractive lake surrounded by bracken and crags on a shelf overlooking Eskdale.

Slowly I made my way across the complex terrain following faint paths that often led me astray as I tried to find a route from Blea Tarn past Siney Tarn and Blind Tarn to Fell End. All the way the weather gradually improved so by the time I reached secluded Miterdale the weather had changed completely with the clouds now breaking up to let the sun shine brightly and provide me with better weather and views than I’d even had the day before. It was thanks to these improving conditions that I decided to do Wainwright’s walk from his Outlying Fells book up Irton Pike. The path that Wainwright describes as ‘a charmer’ took me steeply through Miterdale Forest all the way up to the top of the ridge. As I made my way along the ridge left towards Irton Pike the views behind me started to open up and grab my attention, for in that direction was Wasdale with Great Gable standing proud at the head of the valley. The weather was now perfect and gave me an excellent view of these great fells.

Continuing along the ridge I made my way onto the tiny summit of Irton Pike, an excellent vantage point with unrestricted views across to the sea and into Eskdale as well as more of that view towards Wasdale Head. I sat by the summit in awe of my surroundings and completely content with what had turned out to be a great day, unfortunately it soon started to deteriorate. A steep, narrow path took me off Irton Pike onto a road where a long walk along the road brought me back down to the bottom of Eskdale, but I still had no idea where I would spend the night. In the end I tried to find somewhere to camp on Muncaster Fell, where I’d started the weekend's walk the day before, but it was getting late by the time I started to climb the fell and after a wrong turning brought me to the top of Silver Knott, a low hill at the eastern end of Muncaster Fell, I was too exhausted to go any further and camped in the hollow between Silver Knott and Hooker Crag. It was soon obvious that this was a mistake as I had camped beside a midge-infested marsh, but in the morning this became even worse as heavy overnight rain flooded my camp spot. It is a pity the weekend had to end so badly.

Thursday 3 October 2013

Eskdale

Saturday 27th July 2013

For this walk I thought it would be a good idea to go from the sea all the way up to the top of a mountain. During the morning I travelled up to Cumbria on the train and got off at the unspoilt seaside village of Ravenglass where a little train affectionately known as “La’al Ratty” begins its trundle up into Eskdale, undoubtedly the most beautiful valley in the Lake District. I have travelled on this train a couple of times over the years, most recently in 2010, but not on this occasion as I was now going to walk all the way up the valley, and I was going to start with my feet in the sea. While walking through the tiny village I was struck by how small and unspoilt it was having escaped the Victorian craze for seaside resorts, which has left us with a village that has hardly changed in hundreds of years. Beyond the village I reached the sea where the River Esk from Eskdale and the River Irt from Wasdale meet and enter the sea, and there I dipped my toes into the water (or more accurately I got my boots a little wet in the River Esk near the sea).

From there I set off along a footpath where the first thing of note that I discovered was Walls Castle, actually a Roman bath house that is astonishingly well preserved, for a Roman building in Britain, especially when compared with the three foot high Hadrian’s Wall. Soon after continuing along the path, the warm humid weather that had hung around Britain throughout July started to make me feel uncomfortable and made the walk quite difficult and tiring. I usually have my main holiday, in Scotland, at the beginning of June simply because it’s cooler, while this walk was being done at the peak of the summer, which does not make for easy backpacking. After passing Muncaster Castle I climbed to the top of Muncaster Fell, a small fell on the outskirts of the Lake District that Wainwright had included in his Pictorial Guide to the Outlying Fells of Lakeland. I had already done a couple of these fells before, notably last Christmas, and I had found them all to be enjoyable, especially when only an easy walk is required.

There were tremendous views from the top of Muncaster Fell, back towards the coast as well as towards the fells, which were obscured by mist as is typical at this time of the year due to humidity. While walking along the entire length of the bilberry, heather and bracken covered fell, two much bigger fells dominated my view: up Miterdale the huge bulk of mighty Sca Fell, while up Eskdale the distinctive, pointed peak of Harter Fell drew my steps. These are two very differently shaped mountains, but both dominated the view ahead of me as I negotiated the complex terrain while slowly descending into Eskdale. Eventually I came down into the valley at Muncaster Head Farm where I joined a path beside the River Esk and followed it all the way up the valley. This was a relaxing part of the day as I strolled along a track through the tranquil, unspoilt valley, and even paid a visit to the waterfall, Stanley Ghyll Force, simply because I couldn’t bring myself to walk past without seeing again the sixty foot high waterfall in its dramatic, deep and narrow gorge.

Resuming my walk along Eskdale, just after passing Penny Hill Farm, I took an old peat road that climbs steeply up the fellside to the peaty heights above, where peat used to be cut and then brought down into the valley so it could be burned for heat. At an old sign marked Harter Fell I came off the peat road and climbed an excellent, craggy path across a delightful, deeply-cut stream and through a broad stony rake onto the open moor. This was a fantastic route that I don’t think I’ve taken before as previously, in 2005, I  climbed from Wha House Bridge and followed Spothow Gill up, but the route I’d just taken is far superior. After crossing Spothow Gill I gradually made my way through heather up the slopes of Harter Fell, but since it was now getting late I was beginning to tire. It was the end of a long day and yet I was climbing a mountain, which is not something that I would normally do this late in the day. With the gradient getter steeper and steeper I started to stop more and more times and for longer and longer periods with the gaps between them getting shorter and shorter.

I had hardly any energy left so every step was becoming an agony, but eventually, somehow, I managed to reach the top of Harter Fell where I found a spot on the northern side of the fell, just below the summit, where I could break out my tent and make camp. Just two months previously, while holidaying in Scotland, I had stayed in a tent for the first time, and that went so well I thought I would try it in the Lake District. I hadn’t camped at the top of a mountain while in Scotland so this was more thrilling: I loved it. Despite my difficulty in reaching the top, once I got there it was a great feeling to able to gaze across Eskdale towards the great mountains that circle the head of the valley as twilight slowly began to fall. This was a tiring walk in humid weather, but nevertheless it was an enjoyable challenge, and it felt good to be climbing rock again up that stony rake.

Thursday 26 September 2013

The Monsal Trail

Monday 6th May 2013 (and Saturday 31st March 2012)

I have always been especially interested in the Monsal Trail in the Peak District because it passes through the dramatic scenery of Monsal Dale and Miller’s Dale, however, ever since the old railway line was opened to walkers the many tunnels on the route remained closed, which necessitated several long diversions around them. In 2011 the Peak District National Park Authority reopened the tunnels, repairing, resurfacing and lighting them to form an extension to the existing Monsal Trail. Since I hadn’t previously been able to, I was eager to do a walk through these tunnels, so just before Easter last year I did a walk along the Monsal Trail. It was a thrilling walk, but I wasn’t able to do my fully intended walk due to a lack of time, so this year I did it again and managed to do a great walk in stunning weather through stunning scenery. I also deliberately went a month later so I was able to enjoy more of the spring wild flowers that I enjoy (although the late spring this year lessened the benefit).

Both this year and last year I started the walk in the town of Bakewell, the largest in the Peak District, and set off alongside the busy A6 road north out of the town. After passing Lumford Mill I briefly took a path past Mill Pond and Ashford Lake (and the attractive weirs between them), all constructed for the benefit of the mill, but soon returned to the main road. Beyond the turning for the picturesque village of Ashford in the Water, I took a left turning off the A6 onto a lane signposted to Sheldon, but took a footpath on the right before the road begins to rise out of the valley of the River Wye. Last year at this point I thought I’d lost my camera and even went back as far as the point where I’d rejoined the main road to look for it, only to find I’d had it on me all the time. This year I had no such problem and marched on beside the river into the wonderful Shacklow Wood that I’d enjoyed enormously last year and drew me back this year. I had hoped that the garlic scented plants that cover the floor of the wood would be in bloom by the time I went this year, but the late spring robbed me of that.

I still had a great walk across the steep slopes of the wood perched on a high ledge above the valley below. The lack of wild garlic was made up for, as I descended back down to the road, through a wondrous abundance of wood anemones and lesser celandines. After crossing the A6 I walked through Monsal Dale, a valley that I have walked through many, many times since I was a child, to the awesome Monsal Head Viaduct that towers above the valley. The green lawns of this beautiful dale was adorned with so many wild flowers I was enraptured, but this was also my first sight of the railway on this walk. Last year, I climbed up to the top of the viaduct and joined the Monsal Trail, heading towards Buxton and through Cressbrook Tunnel. I hadn’t planned on going through a tunnel this early in the walk, but the sight of the open tunnel ahead of me was irresistible. This year I passed underneath the viaduct and joined the road coming down from Monsal Head. My plan for this walk was to stay at the bottom of the valley all the way to the end of the Monsal Trail before finally returning to Bakewell along the old railway line.

I had failed to do that last year, but this year I persevered along the road, avoiding the temptation of the tunnels and at Cressbrook Mill I returned to the water’s edge to walk through the stunning Water-cum-Jolly Dale where a fabulous walk took me through the narrow valley as far as Litton Mill. From this point I was back on roads, but the valley I was walking through was still quite picturesque, which made me wish I hadn’t avoided it in the past, just because there was a seldom used road along the bottom. Gorgeous wild flowers flanked the road and stunning crags towered above me while I walked along the road all the way to the village of Miller’s Dale where two huge girder bridges tower above the village as the railway crosses the valley into Miller’s Dale Station. After passing below the bridges I left the road and started to walk along the gorgeous Chee Dale, a tranquil narrow valley that got narrower and more delightful the further I progressed. After passing below the railway line (again) the path became deliciously rugged as the walls of the valley closed in around me. I thoroughly enjoyed my walk through Chee Dale as I excitedly negotiated small scrambly sections and crossed the stepping stones where the valley is so narrow there’s no room even for a path.

Last year, once I’d reached the end of the Monsal Trail, I’d returned along Chee Dale, but since I was already in a hurry I was unable to linger, so this year I relished being able to take my time in this wonderful, spell-binding valley. When the valley started to open out I had my lunch (at the same point where I’d had my lunch last year), before finally climbing up to the start of the Monsal Trail. The walk was completed by returning to Bakewell along the entire eight and a half mile length of the Monsal Trail through Chee Tor tunnels, Litton tunnel and Cressbrook tunnel. It was great to be able to walk through these monuments to Victorian engineering and imagine what it would have been like when express trains used to roar through these tunnels. The Monsal Trail was very popular with both cyclists and walkers, which made it a bit of an anti-climax for me after the excitement of Chee Dale. I eventually reached the Monsal Head Viaduct again and passed through Headstone tunnel, the longest tunnel on the trail, and emerged into a very different landscape. I had left the dramatic scenery of Monsal Dale and was now in rather tame, even dull, farming country as the line took a course away from the River Wye for the final section to Bakewell.

Last year, at this point, I had been almost running in order to catch my bus in time, but I had no such problem this year as I strolled along the trail all the way to the end of the line at Coombe Road bridge. As I walked along the road back into Bakewell I couldn’t help thinking that I could have picked a better day as I was walking not only on a Bank Holiday Monday, but on the day of the Bakewell Show. The town was packed, but fortunately I wasn’t in the long queue of cars waiting to get out of the town as I had caught a bus to Bakewell. This was a great walk through stunning scenery from Shacklow Wood at the start of the walk to the narrow confines of Chee Dale and back along the Monsal Trail through all those railway tunnels. I had fabulous weather for the walk and the wild flowers kept me enthralled all day. From the soot still stuck to the sides of the tunnels, to the wild garlic in Shacklow Wood, there were delights for all the senses.

Thursday 19 September 2013

Glen Nevis

Friday 7th June 2013

On the last day of my holiday in Scotland all I had to do was walk along the entire length of Glen Nevis, but first I had to get to Glen Nevis. The weather on this walk was sensational, and was actually a bit too hot for the walking that I was doing. After the cold and wet weather of the first week of my holiday, the weather just got better and better as the second week progressed, ending in the baking conditions of this walk. After a relaxing evening spent in the stunning Staoineag bothy, I eventually tore myself away from the idyllic spot and set off along the picturesque, wildlife-filled valley of the Abhainn Rath. Ahead of me were the mountains of Glen Nevis, most notably Ben Nevis, and they soon started to attract my attention, however the initial interest of the wildlife and distant mountain views soon faded as I entered a wide, boggy area near another bothy, Meanach. I visited quite a few bothies on this holiday (and stayed in two of them), so I couldn’t resist having a look in this one before continuing along the valley on the northern bank of the Abhainn Rath.

The walk was now just a hard slog up a dreary valley, but with views of the Grey Corries to my right that reminded me of one of my most memorable walks when I traversed the entire length of those white stone-topped mountains in excellent weather. Under the shadow of the mountains, the Abhainn Rath turned north into the heart of the Grey Corries in Corrie Rath, while I passed over the top of the pass into Glen Nevis. There was little sign of a path at this point so I had try and find my own way across the undulating terrain until a faint path eventually emerged. This was a tiring stage of the walk, but I just had to keep going and things eventually started to improve. To my left the Mamores, a fabulous range of mountains linked by high ridges, started to come into view and, as the Grey Corries slipped past, the southern buttresses of Aonach Beag came dramatically into view. I was walking past the stunning sight as some of the greatest mountain ranges in Scotland, while spotted-orchids could be seen at my feet beside the path.

Eventually I reached the beautiful Steall meadow with the tall An Steall waterfall as its backdrop and I couldn’t resist stopping there to take in the stunning surroundings and have my lunch. I thought I had passed through this place many times before, but when I tried to think about the last time I had been there I was shocked to realise that I hadn’t been to Steall meadow since 2006. I had really wanted to visit the meadow last year, but I had been thwarted by fatigue so this three day walk from Dalwhinnie railway station all the way to Fort William was deliberately devised just so I could visit Steall meadow and the Nevis Gorge. My memory of the Steall meadow is different to what I found as I remember the grass being shorter, almost park-like, but now the meadow was in a wilder, more natural state.

In all my previous visits to Steall meadow I had avoided the wire bridge that crosses the River Nevis, preferring to wade across the river rather than take the perilous crossing. The thought of crossing a bridge made of nothing more than a metal rope didn’t really appeal to me, but as I sat eating my lunch while watching other people crossing the bridge I decided that it was about time I put this demon to rest. After lunch I got up and started to cross the bridge with my eyes locked onto the wire just a metre ahead of me as I slowly made my way across the bridge, nerves jangling with every step. Once I got to the other side of the river I definitely did not want to return across the bridge so in honour of my usual method of crossing the River Nevis I waded across and got my feet wet. To finally leave Steall meadow, I took the fabulous path through the stunning Nevis Gorge. The John Muir Trust carried out some repair work to the path recently and I was afraid that they had tamed and ruined it, but not a bit of it. It is still a fabulous path, just as rugged and uneven as it always has been as it plunges through the deep, tree-lined gorge.

I had wanted to go through the Nevis Gorge for ages and it was great to finally be able to return to this wonderful area and walk along the fantastic path through the gorge. On the other side I walked along the road for a short distance before taking a path through woodland bedecked with bluebells on the southern bank of the River Nevis that took me back onto the road at the lower falls of Glen Nevis. My three day walk was still not completed as I had to get to Fort William and for that a stroll through the conifer plantations of the Nevis Forest finally took me all the way into Fort William and the end of the walk. Since the Glen Nevis Youth Hostel was fully booked, I had to catch a train south to Crianlarich, but that didn’t bother me as this is now the third year in a row that I have finished my holiday in Crianlarich and I am beginning to prefer it.

This was a fantastic holiday when I can honestly say that I enjoyed every moment. It was definitely different to how I usually do my holidays in Scotland, for example, I’d never taken a tent before, or stayed in bothies. I found that I gained a much greater sense of freedom with a tent, especially when doing long distance walks, but I should not forget about mountains as the day before this walk proved. I did not go up enough mountains on this holiday. I had planned to go up more mountains than I eventually did, Beinn A’ Ghlo, Mayar, Driesh, and Ben MacDui were all planned to be climbed, but for various reasons I did not. Other problems on this holiday was my woefully inadequate rucksack (already mentioned many times previously) and my boots that slowly began to fall to bits towards the end of the holiday with the soles hanging off by the time I reached Fort William. They were very old having been used on many great walks, but finally met their maker after this holiday. They had a great end.