Alport Height and Shining Cliff Woods

Saturday 17th January 2009

The day before this walk I was musing to myself that since the highest point in Leicestershire is 912 feet where is the nearest hill that is above 1000 feet? The obvious answer is in Derbyshire, but where in Derbyshire? A quick peruse of the map revealed a hill just outside of the Peak District that has a height of 1030 feet and is called Alport Height. Since the weather on this day appeared to be good I set off but with no clear idea about what sort of walk I was going to do. When I got to the town of Ambergate I was reminded of a walk I did many years ago in this area, which may have been short but I passed through Shining Cliff Woods and the surrounding fields starting from Ambergate railway station. I hastily stopped and upon checking my map I decided that I could easily walk from Shining Cliff Woods to Alport Height so I parked my car and began the walk.

As I did ten years ago I began by walking up a track that climbed steeply into the woods but at a junction in Beggarswell Wood I didn't drop down to the Peatpits Brook, in the middle of the woods as I had before, but continued along the byway and out of the wood. Crossing the road at a farm I took a path that continued to climb the hill through farmland eventually reaching a narrow road. Now I had to stay on the road for a long while as I slowly walked towards Alport Height because I was in the middle of cattle and sheep farming country with no interesting features and few paths. The easiest and most practical thing to do was to stay on the road for anything else would be a waste of time and effort. Eventually I reached the foot of the hill and climbed up to the National Trust owned land on its southern slopes.

The views from the top to the south were quite extensive as by definition there were no higher hills south for a very long way. I spent a long time wandering around the area and admiring the extensive views, but the summit itself was ruined by not one or two radio masts but seven! The most distinguishing feature of the area is the Alport Stone, a 20 foot rock pinnacle near the summit that shows signs of being climbed by many people over the years. There was graffiti on the rocks with dates going back to the beginning of the 20th Century and one from even earlier: G. Waterfield climbed to the top of Alport Stone in 1883 and left his mark at the top. I was quite happy to look at the rock but I didn’t have any thought of climbing it myself.

Eventually I left the hill and made my way back along the road to Shining Cliff Woods. I took a different route back and was able to rejoin my route of ten years ago, entering the wood at the western end and following a rather muddy path through the wood to the Shining Cliffs themselves. They aren't very big but they do have a youth hostel next to them. I didn't stop at the hostel but descended towards the brook continuing down even more steeply to the bottom of the Amber Valley. The return to my car involved a straight-forward walk past derelict factory buildings beside the River Derwent on the edge of the wood back onto the track that I had taken in ascent.

This wasn’t an arduous walk by any standard. I had just suddenly wondered where the nearest hill above 1,000 feet was and having discovered where it was I felt that I had to visit it. It was a pleasant walk to do in bright winter sunshine and it gave me something to do on a Saturday. The walk through Shining Cliff Woods brought back some memories, but I’m getting almost tired of walking through woodland. Most weekends these days, when I can’t get to a proper hill, I go for a walk around Charnwood Forest, and Shining Cliff Woods are not much different to that. What I crave is a proper mountain so the weekend after this walk I was back in the Lake District.

Place Fell and Moor Divock

Saturday 3rd January 2009

On the last walk of my holiday at New Year I travelled from Glenridding to the village of Askham where I could catch a bus to the railway station at Penrith. I was quite tired when I started this walk as it had been a tiring week with some long challenging walks, though fortunately with good weather. The weather on this walk, however, was continuing as it had started on the previous day by being grey and overcast with a stiff, cold breeze, which was a marked change from earlier in the week when there had hardly been a breath of wind. Although it wasn’t colder, the wind made it feel like it was significantly, but the views were still clear enough so it did not spoil my walk in any way. At the start I had to walk out of Glenridding and into Patterdale, which is a journey I’ve taken on a number of occasions so I am very familiar with the various routes I could take. On this occasion I chose to take my favourite: along a disused water channel (a leat) above Glenridding, over Mires Beck and over the headland into Grisedale. To get into Patterdale from there I chose to walk along the road for the first time instead of using the footpaths, but it doesn't really compare with the footpath below Glenamara Park.

From Patterdale I took a path that led me up to the complicated Boredale Hause where it is crucial to be on the correct path before you get into the pass or it will not be easy to find the correct path out of it. Following Wainwright’s advice I had stayed left, which ensured that when I reached the ‘Chapel in the Hause’ I was at the right point to take the path up Place Fell. I'd never been to Place Fell before, though I'd been trying to plan a walk up the fell for years. I had found it difficult to incorporate it into a walk before because Place Fell is isolated from other fells; there are no high connecting ridges and the only link to another fell is the low Boredale Hause. It was a great relief to be finally be able to climb it, but I wasn't impressed with the path from Boredale Hause. It is a wide, heavily manufactured, gravelly path, but steep nevertheless. There are some good rocky bits at the top, but they were all too brief compared with the size of the fell, which is a big sprawling mass with a complex terrain and many footpaths. It’s a fascinating area, but it seemed a little too big and sprawling; it is too wide with little variation so it didn’t seem to me to have any secret hidden corners that one could explore. The best bit would appear, from the map, to be the steep rocky slopes that fall into Ullswater, but a further visit would be required to ascertain whether Place Fell really has more to offer than appeared from my visit to the top on this walk. From the summit I took the best line across the vast fell over Hart Crag and down to Low Moss on an excellent footpath that then goes around the small hill of High Dodd (which I had to climb over) and descends over Sleet Fell. I found this final descent very steep and slippery in the frosty conditions, and I slipped over more times on that descent than I had all week! Once at the bottom I walked quickly along quiet narrow lanes to Howtown, past the picturesque bridge in Martindale and stopped off at the Church on the Hause for lunch. Once in Howtown I began to climb the steep grassy hillside opposite to the vast moorland above. This was leg-breakingly steep, probably the steepest ascent in the whole of the Lake District. When I finally reached the top I went over to bag Bonscale Pike, a Wainwright that I’d never visited before, and then crossed the shallow valley of Swarth Beck to another Wainwright that I’d never visited before, Arthur's Pike. With those two bagged all I had left to do was cross Moor Divock to get to Askham, which was not easy as the moor is vast and there are no paths that go in the right direction, though plenty that go in the wrong direction! Using my GPS to keep me in the right direction I tried to keep my speed up as I battled across the moor, though at one point I got my feet wet when I went through the thin ice in a bog.

Eventually I managed to get to Askham and was just in time to catch the bus. That was the second time I’d crossed Moor Divock, the first being in 2004 when the use of a map & compass was necessary to get across the moor even though the weather was clear. I won’t be in a hurry to cross the moor again. This walk was a bit of a drag with very few really great sections. It seemed rather low key compared with the great walks that I had been on during the week, but I suppose the fells I had just walked over were small compared with the giants I had been up only the day before. Place Fell was not the awesome place I had hoped it would be; it was just too wide and tamed by an abundance of paths. Moor Divock was wilder, but was also bleak and inhospitable having none of the attractions that makes the Lake District such an appealing place. This walk was also blighted by having to walk against the clock, with my mind always on the bus that I needed to catch in Askham. This is often the case on the last day of a holiday but seems to be unavoidable.

Helvellyn

Friday 2nd January 2009

During this walk the weather turned and I was treated to the full harshness of winter weather with a bitterly cold, northerly wind, and snow. It didn't start like that, however, as it was sunny with broken cloud, so when I set off up Glenridding the prospect for the day once again looked good. I was walking along the Red Tarn path out of Glenridding even though Red Tarn was not my destination. Half way up the path beside Red Tarn Beck I turned right along the course of an old leat that crosses the hillside below Catstycam on its way to an old breached dam in Keppel Cove. It was quite interesting to follow that old water channel; it used to capture the waters of Red Tarn Beck and channel them into the reservoir, though with the end of mining in this area it has fallen into disuse. The course of the leat can still be traced on the ground, and wooden planks can even be seen at the foot of a crag where the water was carried around the outcrop in a wooden aqueduct. When I reached the dam I made my way up the hillside to the steep north-western ridge of Catstycam. The climb up this ridge was great fun and I enjoyed every step on the rocky path, prolonging the climb for as long as possible by taking my time and stopping frequently to take in the views (or it may have been because it was really exhausting!).

The name of this fell, Catstycam, is really strange, but what is even more strange is that I’ve been miss-pronouncing it all these years! I have always thought of this fell as Cats-eye-cam, but the Ordnance Survey map spells it Catstye Cam, with two t’s. I never realized it was the sty of a cat, always thinking it was the eye. It’s funny how one can glance at a word and read something completely different. Wainwright in his individualistic fashion spelt the fell Catstycam as I have above, but he notes the OS’s spelling and another: Catchedicam, which is completely different! Eventually I reached the top which was covered in cloud so I was unable to see the awesome view that can be seen from the summit along Glenridding towards Ullswater. Instead I turned left dropping off the summit and towards Helvellyn,  climbing Swirral Edge at the end of the connecting ridge. This is an enjoyable ridge, perhaps more satisfying than the ridiculously popular Striding Edge as it has a steeper scramble at the end, especially if you keep to the top of the ridge. Obviously I did try to keep to the top, but a bit of hoar frost on the rocks and some old compacted snow made things a little more interesting.

When I was near the top of the edge the clouds lifted to reveal tremendous views of Catstycam and across Red Tarn so when I reached the summit of Helvellyn I took quite a few pictures of the view from the broad top of Helvellyn while bathed in sunshine. Setting off once again I passed over Lower Man and descended north down the rocky ridge. As I descended, the wind picked up and soon it became bitterly cold as the sun and clear views that I had just enjoyed at the top of Helvellyn quickly became a distant memory. Battling against the cold wind I made my way over White Side and on over Raise. As I started to drop down from the rocky top of Raise it started snowing and so for the first time on this holiday I had to get my cagoule out. Wrapped up against the wind and frozen rain I crossed Sticks Pass and climbed up to the top of Stybarrow Dodd where I had my lunch. Despite the crowds on Helvellyn and on the paths that lead up to it, once I was over Sticks Pass the crowds were, thankfully, left behind.

After lunch I descended the grassy slopes of Stybarrow Dodd and passed over White Stones (called Green Side by Wainwright) to Glencoyne Head where I dropped steeply down past the Green Side mines to Nick Head (a col at the top of a stream called the Nick). Beyond Nick Head I climbed up to Sheffield Pike, which I’d last visited in 2003 when the weather was also poor. This is another of those complex lower fells that can be difficult to navigate across, if one is not careful, like me as I tried to explore the ridge above Black Crag but made rather a mess of crossing the fell as I was going in the wrong direction for Heron Pike. I actually enjoyed my time on Sheffield Pike as I explored the various crags of the heather-clad fell, but eventually I had to climb back up to the metal post that marks the top of Heron Pike and where I found the path that I should have taken to get off the fell.

Once I was going in the right direction I followed this narrow path as I negotiated an undulating ridge across to Glenridding Dodd. This isolated fell is covered in heather and I found myself wishing the rest of the Lake District was similarly clad rather than the boring, sheep-grazed, grassy hills that are more common. The Dodds north of the Sticks Pass are all grass covered and have absolutely no character or redeeming features, and one of the reasons for that is the sheep. Grass is not the natural state of these fells, but heather, bracken and I suppose ultimately, trees. I just wish more of the Lake District had heather-covered fells. I didn't realise until I was approaching Glenridding Dodd that I hadn’t been up it before because in 2003 I bypassed the fell dismissing it as a worthless appendage at the end of the long shoulder of Stybarrow Dodd. But now I am actively seeking out and going up all the Wainwrights so I bagged the summit, in the diminishing light, and quickly descended steeply into Glenridding where all that remained was to walk along the road back up the valley to the youth hostel. The weather on this walk was a little more challenging but I had a great time climbing Catstycam and the complex terrain on Sheffield Pike was a joy.

Derwent Water to Glenridding

Thursday 1st January 2009

I really enjoyed this walk as I travelled from the Derwent Water Youth Hostel to the Helvellyn Youth Hostel in Glenridding. The weather was once again fantastic without a cloud in the sky; I could hardly believe how lucky I was on the holiday with clear weather all week. I started the walk by going up to Ashness Bridge following a path that climbs beside Ashness Gill. I had started a walk here eleven months before during a snowy day in February, but on this walk there was no snow on the ground, though it was certainly very cold with ice in abundance all around the area. This is just the sort of weather conditions you want for a walk up High Seat, when everything in frozen, as it is notoriously boggy. On this occasion, however, I still had to dodge most of the bogs as they were now sheets of very slippery ice, which didn’t help . Another problem I had during the ascent was that since it was winter the sun was low in the sky and directly ahead of me, just above the top of High Seat, so everything before me was in silhouette, which made it difficult to follow the path. Eventually I managed to climb the heather covered slopes to the top of High Seat where the views from this centrally located vantage point were excellent.

After crossing over to the twin top, I descended the pathless grassy slopes to the top of Shoulthwaite Gill. This stream runs down a brilliant little secluded valley that is little-known, but where a narrow path threads its delightful way down the valley with imposing crags on the western side and dark, foreboding woodland on the east. I had the pleasure of walking through this small valley two years ago, but sadly on this walk I was only able to get a glimpse of the valley before crossing the stream and over a fence into the wood, where I followed forest tracks to a path that took me up to the top of Raven Crag. This is an awesome viewpoint with views down the length of Thirlmere Reservoir and across the lake towards the steep slopes of Helvellyn. I have been looking forward to going up Raven Crag for years and it was quite wonderful to be up there. I had tried to plan a walk up there several times before but I was not sure how to arrange it, so to finally be there was something of a relief and a satisfaction that the long wait had been worth it. Eventually, I left the summit and made my way down the steep woodland slopes to a road where I passed over the dam for the reservoir, (I don’t think I had ever actually been to Thirlmere until this moment) and crossed the main road to the foot of Castle Rock. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to go up this outcrop as it looked rather small from the top of Raven Crag (though still over 1000 feet high), plus Wainwright didn’t see fit to devote a chapter to it in his Pictorial Guides. However once I got to the foot of Castle Rock I couldn’t resist the temptation, thinking it would be a good place to have lunch. What I found was a wonderful little climb up a steep rocky path that zigzags up the slope, sometimes traversing along ledges as it climbs and is just the sort of path that I crave and live for. I really enjoyed going up there and once I got to the top of Castle Rock I was able to enjoy tremendous views of Thirlmere in the glorious sunshine. Once I had eaten my lunch I made my way across the bracken covered hillside, and across the deep ravine of Stanah Gill, to get onto the footpath over Sticks Pass. When I climbed over there in 2003 the weather was really poor and I was being subjected to painful, horizontal rain (this was my first experience of bad weather in the Lake District). On this walk the weather was also beginning to turn poor (though it didn’t rain), and I was hit by some strong winds while on the steep, lengthy climb all the way up to the top of the pass.

When I eventually reached the top I decided to go up Raise as I had some spare time, even though the summit was now covered in mist as had most of the other high fells in the area. Raise has a fine summit with an abundance of rock, which is quite exceptional on the Helvellyn range; further north, the Dodds are mere grassy domes with scarcely any rock to speak of, but Raise, even though it has dull grassy slopes, has a mountainous summit. After leaving the rock-strewn summit I ventured away from the main ridge path and set a course down the broad eastern slopes towards the remains of a chimney. The flue for this chimney went across the hillside and I followed this off the fell towards the disused mine workings of Greenside Mine just as the sun was setting. It was fascinating to look at all the old mine workings; even though it’s fifty years since the mine closed, a large amount of slag heaps, old flues and water channels litter the area (such was the scale of the mine). On joining the main path down from Sticks Pass I descended the steep slopes on an excellent graded track, obviously an old mine road that deliberately steers a course away from the unstable mine workings. The track passes below a cliff on a ledge and zigzags down the side of the valley to the bottom of Glenridding where a short walk took me to the hostel. These old mines that litter the Lake District are in one way a bit of a scar on the landscape, but on the other hand they are a part of the history of the area and lend some fascination as I found while walking into Glenridding, and was a fascinating way to end yet another brilliant day in the Lake District, and what a day to do it. I can’t think of a better way to spend New Year's Day than walking in the Lake District.