Saturday 29th November 2008
This walk took place in freezing weather after a sharp frost overnight had turned everything white and froze all the water. In other words it was perfect, beautiful winter walking weather with freezing temperatures, bright sunshine and clear blue skies; it was more than I could have hoped for. I started the walk in the small village of Mungrisdale beside the River Glenderamackin walking on an ice rink for a footpath. Eventually the ice abated, but not before I missed a turning and found myself on a path that begins to climb the hillside south of the Tongue instead than staying beside the river, however the path I was on afforded me with a perfect photo opportunity of my goal: the awesome-looking Bannerdale Crags.
On returning to the riverside path I headed towards the east ridge through the frost and snow to the foot of this fearsome looking edge, where on closer examination I found that all scrambling could be easily avoided, but if I wanted to I could go out of my way to find as many scrambling opportunities as I wanted while climbing the ridge. On occasions the snow and ice persuaded me to stick to the path but near the top I was half up a sheer cliff face before fear got the better of me, however by this time I was committed and soon I realised that the easiest way out of my terrifying situation was to continue to climb, so up I went on my shaking hands and knees until I reached flatter, safer ground. Back on my feet I made my way up the gentle slope to the summit of Bannerdale Crags. From there I made my way over towards Blencathra where Sharp Edge could be seen in all its fearsome glory. After my experiences on the east ridge of Bannerdale Crags I decided Sharp Edge would be strictly crampon and ice axe territory in this weather so I wisely steered clear. Instead I climbed up the hillside above Foule Crag over Blue Screes and onto Atkinson Pike before making my way over to Hallsfell Top. This was the route I took the first time I climbed Blencathra, back in 2003. I chickened out of Sharp Edge on that occasion as well because, although it had been July, it was wet with low cloud, so worse than I had on this occasion. The view from the top of Blencathra was absolutely stunning, it was totally awe-inspiring. The weather was perfect and Blencathra was looking at its best. I felt compelled to walk along the top as far as Gategill Fell Top just so I could continue to admire the amazing views even though I wasn’t heading in that direction. Blencathra is easily one of the best fells in the whole of the Lake District, and is always an awesome sight as one enters the Lake District from Penrith.
When I could finally tear myself away from the view, I started heading back towards Atkinson Pike, bypassing Hallsfell Top, and traversing the snow-clad slopes below. Dropping even further below Atkinson Pike I came onto the dreary Mungrisdale Common, which is a monotonous moorland north of Blencathra that is unfathomably and unfortunately, a Wainwright. Having just been up one of the best of the Wainwrights I was now going across what is indisputably the worst Wainwright. I was so bored while traversing the Common that I started counting all the fells around me to try and decide whether I had been up all of them and I came to a surprising discovery. If you include the couple of days I spent in the Lake District at the beginning of the year I had been up almost every Wainwright in the Northern Fells this year. The exceptions were Knott (which I went up the next day) and Skiddaw Little Man (which I went up four years ago when I first went up Skiddaw). I was so relieved when I realised that Mungrisdale Common wasn’t my last Wainwright of the Northern Fells as that would have been too awful to contemplate. After a long trek across the plain I reached the 'summit' cairn in the middle of the vast, flat expanse and then, after a moan with a fellow walker who had also gone onto the Common simply because Wainwright had included it in his books, I began to walk back across the plain towards the col below Atkinson Pike where I had my lunch.
When I could finally tear myself away from the view, I started heading back towards Atkinson Pike, bypassing Hallsfell Top, and traversing the snow-clad slopes below. Dropping even further below Atkinson Pike I came onto the dreary Mungrisdale Common, which is a monotonous moorland north of Blencathra that is unfathomably and unfortunately, a Wainwright. Having just been up one of the best of the Wainwrights I was now going across what is indisputably the worst Wainwright. I was so bored while traversing the Common that I started counting all the fells around me to try and decide whether I had been up all of them and I came to a surprising discovery. If you include the couple of days I spent in the Lake District at the beginning of the year I had been up almost every Wainwright in the Northern Fells this year. The exceptions were Knott (which I went up the next day) and Skiddaw Little Man (which I went up four years ago when I first went up Skiddaw). I was so relieved when I realised that Mungrisdale Common wasn’t my last Wainwright of the Northern Fells as that would have been too awful to contemplate. After a long trek across the plain I reached the 'summit' cairn in the middle of the vast, flat expanse and then, after a moan with a fellow walker who had also gone onto the Common simply because Wainwright had included it in his books, I began to walk back across the plain towards the col below Atkinson Pike where I had my lunch. After lunch I climbed back up beside Bannerdale Crags heading for Bowscale Fell and I was continually appreciating the fact that all the bogs were frozen solid as there was a lot of potentially wet ground on these fells. After the crowds on Blencathra, the latter part of this walk seemed to be very quiet and eerie (there weren’t even any birds singing: too cold, no trees); also the views were more restricted as I ventured further into the Northern Fells and what views I could see were becoming rather misty. Eventually I reached Bowscale Fell where I dropped down to the top of Tarn Crags in order to have a good look at Bowscale Tarn in its secluded, picturesque bowl. Resuming the walk I climbed up to the top of the east ridge of Bowscale Fell and followed this all the way down into Mungrisdale. This was a fantastic and prolonged descent that epitomised just why I love the Lake District so much. I love long descents where I take a gentle stroll down a ridge where little effort is required and the views into the valley below are straight in front of you. Maximum benefit, minimum effort. In the Lake District the paths are always clear and easy to walk along so I don’t have to think much about where to go, and on this day I didn’t have any problem with bogs as everywhere was still frozen. This was a thoroughly enjoyable end to a wonderful day's walk.
I had a short amount of daylight left when I got back to my car so I decided to drive to the Gate Gill car park near Latrigg to do the easiest Wainwright available. Can one really say they have climbed Latrigg if they have only walked across the grassy slopes from the car park? In fact can anyone say they have climbed a fell when they have only walked along a ridge from a neighbouring fell? I surveyed the stunning views south over Keswick and towards Derwent Water from this awesome vantage point that at this time included a beautiful sunset and I counted myself lucky to have been able to walk in such perfect weather conditions. I had been on a brilliant walk even if certain sections were unimaginably boring; I don’t want to ever have to walk across to Mungrisdale Common again, but any day you walk up Blencathra is going to be a great day, and this day was no exception.
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