A Write-off

Saturday 5th January 2008

This walk was a series of upsets and disappointments that ruined the entire day and resulted in my not getting to the top of a single Wainwright, but I did try, honest. Let's just write the whole day off as one-of-those-days and get on with something fun instead. But I mustn't be too hasty, so I didn't mange to do the walks I had planned, however I still enjoyed myself, once or twice. I'll start at the beginning of the day when I arrived at the bus station with plenty of time before the bus was due to leave for Borrowdale, that is until I put my sandwiches in my rucksack. The rest of my packed lunch was missing as I had left them at the hostel. I seriously considered abandoning them but it was raining so I wasn't looking forward to the walk ahead. The snow had melted on all but the highest fells and I was anticipating a muddy walk over Greenup Edge, so instead I walked away from the bus station with all my plans for the day in tatters.

After retrieving my lunch I caught the next bus heading south, which was the Lancaster bus, and got off in Grasmere. Hastily, I was forming new plans for the day and headed up the road towards Helm Crag thinking that I could at least go up there. Soon, however, I remembered a walk that I had once thought of doing, going up Steel Fell, returning over Helm Crag. This sounded like a great idea and I quickly headed up the road to the bottom of the fell and began the ascent. And then my jinx struck again, this time with the wind. Trying to walk up the ridge became a real battle against the strong winds and I wasn't in the mood or have the energy for it. If I didn't have a cold or a heavy rucksack and felt fresher, more invigorated, I may have kept going, but not on this day.

Returning to the bottom of the ridge I considered going up Helm Crag on it's own, but soon I realised that it would be just as hostile up there as it was half way up Steel Fell. It just wasn't fun up there and, believe it or not, I am supposed to be finding this enjoyable. When I saw it was past noon I decided to just walk to Ambleside, which would be easy and I would be able to stay out of the strong wind. Actually this was a very enjoyable walk and reminded me of my first time in the Lake District. On that occasion I had walked from Rydal to Grasmere and gazed across at Loughrigg wondering if I could find my glasses that I had lost there at the beginning of the holiday (no I didn't!), and this walk from Rydal to Ambleside, following the old coffin route, reminded me of that day and the very first day I spent in the Lake District when I had lost my glasses.

Aside from the nostalgia this was a fun little walk that passed through woodland for much of the way following a rugged course in open country. Paths like this show that there is a lot more to the Lake District than the summits of the fells often with better walks possible lower down. Unfortunately I soon arrived in Ambleside and this is where the gloom quickly set in as I had another 1½ hours to wait for the bus with nothing to do. Wandering the streets I eventually arrived in Rothay Park and thought morosely on previous visits to the Lake District when I had enjoyed myself (as opposed to this day). As my thoughts strayed onto the first day I had ever spent in the Lake District I remembered that before walking to Rydal I had visited Stockghyll Force. This suddenly struck me as an excellent idea for me to do especially since I hadn't been back.

With a renewed vigour in my step I raced through the streets of Ambleside and up the road I remembered so well from 5½ years ago (although I seem to recall it was packed with cars back then, it was July). In the failing light of four o'clock in early January I turned onto a muddy path beside the river and climbed up to the impressive waterfall. Despite the poor light I took many pictures while attempting to keep my hands as still as I could; looking at the pictures I seem to have been successful, however the long exposure times hadn't brought the waterfall out well. Returning to the town centre I caught the bus to Windermere thence the train home. This wasn't a great day's walk but it's not been a great holiday in the Lake District with the weather being a factor as well as my cold and certain lapses in concentration on my part. The ideal weather for this time of the year would be icy cold and clear blue skies (as I got just before Christmas 2006), what I didn't want was wet and mild, which is what I got for this walk. To be fair, the rain stopped early and the rest of the day was almost sunny, so if I hadn't missed the bus (again), and if it hadn't been as windy as it was on Steel Fell ...

Lonscale Fell and Great Calva

Friday 4th January 2008

The weather for this walk was not as cold as the day before but more snow had fallen during the night which gave me a glorious day out on snow covered fells. I had never been walking in these sort of conditions before so it was a big learning curve for me and I often wisely erred on the side of caution. I didn't start very well as I missed the bus to Bassenthwaite so I elected to do the intended walk in reverse. Retracing my steps of the previous night I walked up around Latrigg and relished walking through deep snow, but when the ground steepened for the ascent of Skiddaw I started to worry. Seeing others on the climb had made me consider going all the way up myself but as things got steep I started slipping on the rocky path, so I guess I was at the stage where crampons would have been an advantage, but since I don't have any or have ever used these I veered off the path and followed the wall beside Whit Beck. With hindsight it would appear from the map that I left the main path just at the point where the gradient eased, so would an ascent all the way up Skiddaw have been possible? The people ahead of me certainly didn't appear to have crampons or an ice axe, but that is no comfort if you all fall to your death.

Although I was still following a path, this one was not manufactured and so it was easier, except that drifts had produced some very deep sections that were a nightmare to wade through. The increasing wind chill also meant I was getting a very real lesson in what winter weather is like. Turning right at the top of the path I battled against the drifts all the way up to the summit of Lonscale Fell, which I had prudently avoided the day before. The views from the top were limited as a mist was enveloping the hills, but the wind chill was still severe and ensured that I was now completely covered up against the elements, wearing something I had never before worn on a walk: a scarf. That's right, this was now serious. Descending from a junction of fences near the top I made my own way through the heather down the long northern slopes, across the Salehow Beck and up to Skiddaw House. It's surprising how much easier it is to descend through snow covered heather. You just take the plunge and hope that under the canopy of snow is something solid to stand on. Usually there was.

On finally reaching the bridlepath beside the former youth hostel I turned left to head towards Bassenthwaite where ultimately I would be catching a bus. Evaluating my plan ahead at this point I realised that going over Great Calva, Knott, Great Sca Fell, Meal Fell and Great Cockup (wonderful name) in the next three hours may have been expecting too much, especially with these conditions under foot. I could have just stayed on the bridlepath but I wanted to go up at least one more Wainwright, so the first on the list would have to suffice. When I reached the Dead Beck (another wonderful name) I ventured right up the fellside along what I thought was a path, and was even marked by a line of wooden posts. My path initially was very good as I easily climbed the fell beside and sometimes on top of a stream. It's possible I was following an actual stream but this was not a problem as it was frozen solid until I gained higher ground where the posts vanished and the stream became very narrow and deep. From this point I had no choice  but to make my own course up through the heather, but the toil was beginning to show on me. With the top still a long way off in the mist I ran out of energy and the will to go on.

Eventually I summoned reserves of stamina from some unimaginable depth and battled on, later rejoining what once again appeared to be a path but I still had to stop every couple of steps to regain my breath and summon the strength for next couple of steps. Near the summit I met someone who I'd passed the day before and this gave me the incentive to battle up the last little bit up to the cairn by a turn in the fence. The summit was only a short distance away, and once there I climbed over the fence by the summit cairn, sat down in a shelter and had my lunch. Throughout lunch the views east appeared intermittently through the mist, though never long enough to take a picture; after lunch the view suddenly opened up and I was able to take a picture of the snow-covered scene. 

With most of the climbing now over I followed the fence over Little Calva (cutting the corner enormously) and descended the steep fellside down to the bridlepath (and cut the corner so much I couldn't even see the fence). Dropping downhill beside Dry Gill wasn't as difficult as I feared it was going to be. I just kept one hand pointing towards the ground and the other holding my pole pointing down the slope as I descended diagonally down the fell ready to drop to the ground and arrest my slide if my footing should become uneven. As it happened my precaution was probably unnecessary as the terrain was quite stable and the dense heather ensured that if I did slip over I wouldn't slide far.

Once back on the bridlepath I had a leisurely walk along the wide, easy track descending past Whitewater Dash (a waterfall) and through fields to Bassenthwaite, or I would have if the weather and my own stupidity hadn't intervened. Half way to Bassenthwaite it started raining heavily so I got my cagoule on and carried on walking and got completely lost in the fields. I was blaming everyone, the farmer, the map, the mud, the rain; I was screaming and cursing, using the foulest sort of language that I have never been heard using. Eventually I reached a road, where there shouldn't have been a road so still cursing I got out my compass and realised this was the road I had been on earlier. Still cursing I walked along the road all the way, in the pouring rain, into Bassenthwaite.

One comment I made to myself at this time, in between the curses, was that I prefer being out in open country and I find walking in fields inherently frustrating. I like the freedom to explore and decide on a whim which way to go and whether or not to use a path. There is a great freedom in the open country, but going through fields you have to stick to the path and it can be difficult to know exactly where that path is. In open country you can decide for yourself what route to take and you don't have to do what someone else says you've got to do, or where to go. You see, there is so much more to hill walking than the exercise or stunning views.

Arriving in Bassenthwaite I was perplexed to not be able to find a bus stop even though the timetable says the bus stops in Bassenthwaite. Fearing I was going to miss the bus I rushed off to the main road less than ½ mile away, but of course I hadn't actually checked when the bus was due. I'd just assumed it would be just after 4.30, and I hadn't checked the time recently. When I reached the bus stop on the main road I discovered the bus wasn't due until 4.54 and it was only 4.15. I shouldn't have rushed so much along the road, but that's life and it was annoying. So, what can I say about this walk? It wasn't a classic, but it was fun walking in the snow and it had been highly educational in that regard. It was very challenging in places and really tested my stamina. I probably should have stopped climbing Great Calva and just had something to eat, after all it was almost lunchtime, so maybe I was just hungry.

Carrock Fell & High Pike

Thursday 3rd January 2008

After 11 hour's sleep my cold was a lot better, which was fortunate as I had a full day's walking planned. I started at Scales where the bus dropped me off to climb up the fell behind the hamlet into Mousthwaite Comb. With hindsight a better path would have been the one that starts at the bottom of the comb and climbs up to the col, instead I had a very rough and steep climb around disused levels that required a descent from the path back down to the col. Beyond the col I climbed up to and across the top of Souther Fell, where the freezing weather ensured that the bogs were not a problem.

Opposite the impressive Bannerdale Crags was a cairn that marked a great viewpoint of the crags, if only the sun was out. After taking a few photos the sun did come out, and only at that particular time, which was amazing. Continuing along the top of the fell I passed over the summit and followed a clear path along the descending ridge. I already knew there was no way off the end of the fell, but I was curious to see where the people who had trodden out the path I was following had gone. When I got to the bottom of the admittedly excitingly narrow, rocky and steep path I discovered a sign that told me there was no right of way. Well, I knew that! I had to walk south beside the fell wall until I reached a minor road, which is the only way out. You could say that I should have done what I knew to be the right way down rather than following the crowd, but I enjoyed the descent.

Walking along the road I passed through Mungrisdale and on to Mosedale where I turned left onto a minor road, and broke out onto the fell as soon as I could. I was now on Carrock Fell, but it took me a long time to get to the summit as this is a very wide fell with a lot of distance to cover over very rough ground. it was difficult to follow a path as what paths there are were faint and often ended abruptly. The bracken at the bottom was quickly replaced by prickly gorse bushes where any paths seemed to go through the densest patches. This was replaced by loose stones that, although easier to climb, seemed only to lead into more gorse bushes or into my final adversary: thick heather.

When the gradient eased I found a narrow path through the heather that passed by a sheepfold and on across the never ending fellside along what should have been a very muddy and wet path. Fortunately, this was not a problem on this walk as despite the earlier sunshine the mud was frozen, though there were frequent ice patches that had to be avoided. My walking pole was able to stand on the ice, but if I did I would slip onto my back side, fortunately the ice could easily be spotted and avoided. When I eventually reached the summit the weather had darkened and as I sat having my lunch in a shelter it started snowing .

Emerging from my shelter I found that not only did everything now have a thin covering of snow but mist had descended and was obscuring my view of the summit cairn that I had been clearly able to see before lunch. Walking to the summit cairn I continued along the top of the ridge trying to follow the path in the still falling snow. If the snow got heavier or didn't stop soon I was going to have problems with a situation known as 'White-out' where navigation is nigh on impossible in a completely white environment. Fortunately it stopped when I reached the insignificant top of Miton Hill, and the sun briefly came out, but as I rounded the top of Drygill Beck, I was back in a pea-souper and climbing up to the highest point on the walk: High Pike.

Few fells boast a seat at the summit, but this one not had only had a seat but the redundant trig point has been put to good use as it now sports a view finder, so it was a pity that I had no view. Descending the way I had ascended, I followed the Cumbria Way over Hare Stones and beside Great Lingy Hill, with the path becoming increasingly icy. This hadn't been a problem earlier but now with a thin covering of snow it was difficult to spot the icy patches, and consequently at one point I fell on my back side (or I would have done if my rucksack hadn't broken the fall). At the top of Grainsgill Beck the Way turns left along the beck but I thought it would be more interesting to climb over Comb Height and descend over Pike. The valley bottom route probably would have been easier and this route certainly wasn't better, especially during the rough descent from Pike through dense heather until eventually I reached the footbridge over Wiley Gill and rejoined the Cumbria Way on it's course towards Skiddaw House.

When I originally planned this walk I had decided to end by bagging Lonscale Fell, but once I reached Skiddaw House (which I had never been to before and it's bigger than I imagined) I had second thoughts. It was four o'clock, I was tired after a long day's walk and the sun had just set (at least according to my GPS, I hadn't seen the sun since Miton Hill). It was getting dark and I was still a long way from Keswick. Besides all this I didn't have a map of this area because I had stupidly left it at the hostel so eventually I decided that without a map to follow, whether it was light or dark, it would be stupid to attempt Lonscale Fell. Staying on the Cumbria Way I passed the Lonscale Crags where I seriously thought I ought to get a torch out, but once I was past the crags a good path surface made this unnecessary, for the time being.

On reaching the ford over Whit Beck I realised that the time had now come, so I got out my new headtorch and strapped it on and what a wonder, it was amazing! I was able to see the path clearly and if I kept it on the lowest setting I wouldn't have to sacrifice my night-vision. Using the headtorch I was able to get to the Gale Gill car park and continue along the Cumbria Way below Latrigg all the way into Keswick. This was another great walk in the Lake District, and this time in an area I had barely ventured in before, besides Blencathra. The Northern Fells are not typical Lakeland fells being more Pennines in character but the snowy weather made them just as challenging as anywhere else in the Lake District.

Loughrigg

Wednesday 2nd January 2008

This was one of those days where everything goes wrong and you wish you could just crawl back into bed. First off, the day before this holiday I came down with a cold, which was not very good timing considering and then I got very little sleep the previous night because it was New Year's Eve. So with lack of sleep defeating my ability to fight the cold I made my way to the train station where more problems appeared. Engineering work in Rugby was over-running and resulted in my train being cancelled so I had to go to Birmingham, and then the train I caught wasn't the advertised one to Edinburgh, but to Manchester. Along with dozens of others passengers I got off the train in Wolverhampton and returned to Birmingham only to find that the next train was also cancelled.

Eventually I caught a train to Crewe and thence to Oxenholme, which was what I thought I should have done instead of returning to Birmingham, but I had just followed the crowd, which is maybe a lesson to me: to do what I think I should do, and not what others are telling me to do. When I arrived in Windermere I was not only two hours late, but I had also suffered tremendously with my cold in the air-conditioned trains so I didn't feel like doing much walking. After taking a bus to Ambleside and buying myself lunch, I decided that I would do a short walk, over Loughrigg.

I went up Loughrigg on my very first day in the Lake District back in 2002, and I returned on the last day of that holiday, but I had not been back since so now I was returning to my very first Wainwright for the first time in over five years. Leaving Ambleside near St. Mary's Church passing through Rothay Park I climbed up the hill past Park Brow Farm and out onto the open fellside. Once in open country I made for the high ridge on the western side of the fell and climbed up to a cairn that afforded me with views across the illusive Loughrigg Tarn (I wouldn't be surprised if this was the first time I had seen it) and beyond to murky views of Langdale. The climb continued along a clear path until I reached the south top where I turned around saw an amazing view of Windermere as the weather began to clear.

After visiting the summit and the east top, and with the sun beginning to peak through the breaking clouds, I descended the manufactured path with the views across Grasmere that were stunning especially during my traverse of the Loughrigg Terrace. Leaving the awesome scenery behind I dropped down through the trees to White Moss car park where I caught a bus to Keswick. This walk, although short was still fabulous and shows what makes the Lake District so special, even with a fell that was only 333 metres high. For much of the walk my nose was pouring and I got through several tissues, so I was just hoping that after a good night's sleep I'd feel much better in the morning and be ready to do the walk that I had planned for the next day.