The Lakes, day 6 – Great Gable and the High Stile Ridge

Saturday 20th July 2002

This was a long and tiring day, but a very enjoyable walk. The weather forecast for this day was changeable, but despite the day starting sunny I set off from Borrowdale to Honister Hause feeling a little tired after all the walking that I’d been doing during this holiday. This was now the sixth day of my first ever holiday in the Lake District and I'd done a lot of long and tiring walks, more than I’d ever done before. I was exhausted and feeling the strain of walking all day every day for a whole week. These days this is nothing new to me and I’m used to it, but at this time I hadn’t done more than a couple of days of consecutively walking. Coming to the Lake District for the first time introduced me to a new thing: long walks day after day for over a week, and by now the last thing I felt like doing was another day trudging up into the fells, but that is what I did.

Of course once I got up into the hills I loved it and was climbing lots of fells bagging as many peaks as possible. My route up to Honister was along the tracks of an old toll road which mirrors the modern way for much of the climb to the top of the pass and gave me a trouble free ascent. From Honister I walked to the Drum House on a dismantled tramway and turned left following a clear path towards the boundary fence that surrounds the valley of Ennerdale. Turning left I followed the fence up to bag Brandreth from where I went across the broad saddle to Green Gable before tackling the biggie: Great Gable. Heavy clouds had descended as I approached Brandreth, but as I got to the top of Great Gable they parted to afford me with spectacular views of the valleys below, most notably south along Wasdale, until the cloud descended again and the heavens opened.

It may have been raining heavily as I left Great Gable, but it didn’t last very long and stopped before I got to the col at Beck Head where I back-tracked myself skirting around the north-western slopes of the gables while getting stunning views down Ennerdale thanks to the improving weather. Eventually I rejoined the Ennerdale boundary fence near Brandreth and turning away from Brandreth I followed the fence towards Haystacks. From the top of Loft Beck I tried to make my own route direct to Haystacks, but quickly found myself in trouble in very boggy ground. I have since discovered that the easiest route between Brandreth and Haystacks is to take a path, itself sometimes boggy, past Great Round How to join the Warnscale path past Blackbeck Tarn. These days I would love to explore these pathless slopes north of Loft Beck, but back then I just wished I’d gone another way. Eventually I reached Innominate Tarn and just beyond that is the top of Haystacks, the fell was beloved of Wainwright and the tarn is where his ashes were scattered.

The weather had been improving steadily since it had rained while I was coming down from Great Gable and by now it was a glorious day. When faced with the choice of whether to descend to Buttermere at this point or keep going, I decided to keep going along the ridge. A gruelling, steep climb up the shifting screes of Gamlin End failed to dampen my enthusiasm as I passed along this glorious ridge that overlooks Buttermere. The fells of High Crag, High Stile and Red Pike passed quickly underfoot as I sailed along the fantastic ridge in glorious sunny weather. I felt that I must be rather nuts but I had got into the swing of it, and I was loving every moment.  By the time I got to Red Pike it was 4.30 so I decided I needed to make a quick descent off the fell in order to get to the hostel in time to order my dinner so I took the bridlepath down beside Sourmilk Gill instead of my planned descent down the long western slopes to Scale Force. Unfortunately I have never walked down the long western slopes of Red Pike but I was able to visit the waterfall of Scale Force a couple of years ago while staying in Buttermere for the New Year.

This walk ranks alongside my traverse of Scafell Pike a couple of days earlier as being an early memorable walk of mammoth proportions. It was ironic that at the start of the walk I was beginning to feel tired of such long walks day after day only to then do a walk that dwarfed almost all of the walks that I’d previously done that week. Great Gable is an awesome mountain that dominates the landscape from wherever it is seen and the High Stile Ridge is a walk of epic proportions. Combining the two in such a long walk was never in my plans for this day, in fact I had planned on walking along the High Stile Ridge on the day after this walk so I was forced to come up with a new walk for the next day. This was a fabulous day's walk in the Lake District that consolidated my love of the fells that continues to this day.

The Lakes, day 5 – Borrowdale

Friday 19th July 2002

After this walk I didn’t consider that it had been a good day, but that was only because it had rained all day and my planned walk up Great Gable was rejected due to the weather. With the hindsight of ten years I can see that the weather doesn’t necessarily have to ruin a day in the Lake District. In fact that evening one of the guys in the youth hostel said that the conditions at the top of Great Gable hadn’t been that bad and I should have gone up. These days I would have done but at the time I’d never experienced bad weather like that at the top of a mountain and didn’t know what to expect. Quite rightly I erred on the side of caution and decided to stay on lower slopes doing a walk that I had already planned to do as a wet weather alternative. I walked around one of the greatest valleys in the Lake District, Borrowdale, and I found that my cagoule was not as waterproof as I’d thought. I got soaked.

Setting off from the youth hostel I walked beside the River Derwent towards the Jaws of Borrowdale, a square mile that Wainwright declared to be the loveliest in Lakeland. I have since passed through this area a number of times on the road on the other side of the river, but this is actually the only time I have ever walked through the Jaws of Borrowdale, which is a great tragedy. The river passes through a narrow gap between the rocky buttresses of Castle Crag and Grange Fell where even the road has to twist and turn sharply many times to get through. It is a glorious symphony of rock and tree with the river in the middle holding the whole thing together, but I have little memory of my journey on the path the other side of the river from the road. Since it was raining maybe that dampened my enthusiasm, but I don’t remember being that impressed with my walk through the Jaws; the road surely can’t be better than the path.

Eventually I reached the tiny village of Grange where I turned left along the road past the Borrowdale Gates Hotel before making my way onto a path that crosses the southern extremity of Derwent Water. The marsh lands did leave an impression on me as I walked along raised boards across the wet ground. This is also a path that I haven’t revisited in ten years, but now I wish I could. I may have been disappointed with this walk ten years ago but now I am desperate to do the walk again and explore areas of the Lake District that I am unfamiliar with. Just because I was doing a walk that didn’t climb particularly high didn’t mean it wasn’t a good one, unfortunately I didn’t realise that at the time. Eventually I crossed the fields that flood at other times of the year and reached the Lodore Falls Hotel.

Behind the hotel are a set of cascades and falls that must have been quite a sight thanks to all the rain, but I think the path beside them was quite muddy so I climbed quickly up to the Watendlath Valley. This is a valley that I have walked through several times since, most of them in wintry conditions, and even once in the dark. Most recently I walked through the valley on my way back to Keswick, but on this occasion I was walking to the popular hamlet of Watendlath. When I got there for the first time I found a deserted collection of farm houses with no sign of the tourists that usually congregate around Watendlath, the rain was successfully keeping people away. From there I took a bridlepath back over the low hill to the hostel in Borrowdale. Half-way across I saw a path that was signposted towards Dock Tarn and I considered walking off towards the fell, but I really couldn't be bothered in the rain.

The problem was my discomfort from being wet and hot inside a cagoule that was almost useless in these conditions. My t-shirt was probably soaked from my own sweat as the cagoule I was wearing was not a special breathable one but a cheap anorak from a department store. At this time I still hadn’t got the right clothing to cope with poor weather on the hills so I probably made the right decision to spend the rest of the afternoon back in the youth hostel reading a book. Although this short walk seemed like a disappointment at the time it was a further step in my learning to cope with bad weather while out walking. I got a new, better, waterproof cagoule after learning from my experiences on this walk and subsequent experiences of walking in bad weather built upon what I had learnt. Ignoring the weather, I shouldn’t have been disappointed with the walk as it seems to me now that it was a great little walk that I would be delighted to do now.

The Lakes, day 4 – Scafell Pike

Thursday 18th July 2002

On my fourth ever day in the Lake District I completed my greatest walk to date and one that wasn’t surpassed for several years walking right over the top of the greatest and highest mountains in the Lake District from one great valley to another, from Eskdale to Borrowdale. This was the big one, the one that I had been looking forward to for ages and the highlight of the holiday. I left Eskdale Youth Hostel early, before 9 a.m., in brilliant sunshine with hardly a cloud in the sky, but the good weather didn't last long as it clouded over during the morning getting rather dark over the hills, though without actually raining. I was following the Terrace Route up Scafell, a route that is fabulous in its early stages where, as Wainwright says, “a charming path winds amongst the bracken and granite outcrops,” but the middle stage of the climb was a real slog across drab grassy slopes until finally the gradient steepens for the climb up to Slight Side. The terrain improves immensely after this Wainwright top with a real mountain feel to the surroundings and great views across the gathering grounds of the River Esk to the great mountains that encircle this most delectable of places. I have since fallen in love with Upper Eskdale and the mountains that surround it and on this walk I was seeing them for the first time.

It took me three hours to get up to the top of Scafell, but once I got there I didn't stop - I didn't even realise I was there! I had my eyes on only one thing as I immediately headed for Scafell Pike, but that's not easy from where I was. The safest, easiest and the only recommended route between Scafell and Scafell Pike involves a difficult scramble down a scree slope to Foxes Tarn and then a tricky climb down a steep, wet gully before another scramble up a scree slope. The direct route between the second and highest hills in England is blocked by the cliff-face of Broad Stand that forces long diversions either side. When I first went up in 2002 there had recently been a big rock-fall in the alternative route via Lord’s Rake that made the local Mountain Rescue Team worried about further rock-falls and more particularly that the large rock that had become wedged at the top of the rake would soon fall down the rake taking with it anyone who was in the rake at the time. More than ten years later the rake is very slippery and the large rock is still wedged at the top, but I guess it will eventually fall down the rake.

In 2002 I wasn’t taking any chances so I took the Foxes Tarn route eventually managing to get up to Scafell Pike at lunchtime, but only to find it covered in low cloud. Over the years I’ve been quite unlucky with the clouds at the top of Scafell Pike; on this occasion the clouds weren't there before I got there and they disappeared soon after I left. That is just my luck. From the Pike I proceeded along the rocky ridge passing Broad Crag, Ill Crag and eventually ending at Great End. This ridge is really tricky to walk along as it is predominately large boulders that are not easy to walk upon, but are easy to hurt yourself on. Great End is a lot easier underfoot and I remember standing on the edge of the summit plateau gazing at the stunning views towards Borrowdale and Derwent Water. This is one of those great scenes in the Lake District and I was seeing it for the first time on this great walk. I needed to go in that direction, but it is impossible to climb straight down the cliff that I was standing at the top of, so I needed to turn around and head back to the top of Calf Cove returning to the Scafell Pike path to take me down to Esk Hause. Instead, I made straight for Esk Hause across an abominable boulder field, which Wainwright warns against, but I didn’t know that back then.

After reaching Esk Hause by the difficult way, I stuck to the path below the tall crags of Great End down to Sty Head where I decided to take the less popular route past Taylorgill Force. I didn’t know it at the time but I was now actually following Wainwright's advice to take the narrower path on the northern bank of the stream. This route is a lot trickier than the broad bridlepath, but that just means it’s more fun as you scramble across the rocks with a close up view of Taylorgill Force that makes it all worthwhile. At Seathwaite I once again took Wainwright's unseen advice by taking the footpath to the road at Mountain View, but while walking along that path a lace on my boots caught on the other boot, which had happened before, earlier that same day in fact, but most of the time my sense of balance was able to prevent me from falling over. But not this time. The waist strap on my rucksack happened to come apart at that time letting my rucksack swing up over my head hurling me forwards and down. Before I knew it I was on my hands and knees and my head was hitting the stone covered floor. Luckily nothing was damaged and I was not particularly hurt, but it could have been a lot worse. That was a scary experience and not something that I would want to repeat. Despite my small accident at the end, this was a great walk over a great mountain that is surrounded by stunning scenery. There is nothing in the Lake District to compare with a traverse of Scafell Pike.

The Lakes, day 3 – The Old Man of Coniston

Wednesday 17th July 2002

As is usual at this time of the year I have run out of walks to talk about so I am going to return to the series that I started in March this year. I was describing my very first visit to the Lake District ten years ago, but I only described the first two days of my holiday before actually going to the Lake District again at Easter and retracing some of my steps of those first two days. At the start of my third day in the Lake District I was staying at the Coniston Coppermines Youth Hostel (the same one I stayed at this year) and as I was leaving I almost left my shampoo in the hostel. That is something that I've done a lot of times before on other holidays and is really annoying. I feel as if I have left loads of stuff strewn across the country over the years, particularly bottles of shampoo. I now make a point of meticulously scouring the place I’ve been staying to make sure I haven’t left anything behind, and often still spend the first hour of the walk worrying that I’ve left something behind. It really is ridiculous that I seem to keep on losing things, but nothing compares with losing my glasses on my first ever day in the Lake District.

On that day I lost a pair of glasses on Loughrigg and I’d still not given up hope of finding them again. I kept thinking about going back to Loughrigg to look for them, but even then I had little hope of success until the bracken had all died off, which wouldn’t be until the winter. However I still harboured the hope that I could go back to Loughrigg on the last day of my holiday and find my glasses. Besides continuing to think about my lost glasses I walked from the Coniston Fells over the Old Man of Coniston all the way to Eskdale. This is a walk that I’ve done several times since in both directions always varying my route, but my first time I kept things simple. From the hostel I descended the valley road slightly to the Miner’s Bridge over Church Beck before joining the popular route up Coniston Old Man that, according to Wainwright, “is the way the crowds go: the day trippers, the courting couples, troops of earnest Boy Scouts, babies and grandmothers, the lot”, and on this occasion: me as well. I commented in my diary at the time that this was a bit of a slog and that these climbs were really taking it out of me. I guess some things never change.

I seem to remember the weather as being bad with low cloud over the fells (unless I’m confusing it with another day!) and I had poor views as I walked past the remains of the copper mines and past Low Water until finally I reached the summit of the Old Man of Coniston. After resting up at the top I walked along the broad grassy ridge to Brim Fell and then having bagged the flat top I descended steeply to Goats Hawse. After crossing over the pass I climbed onto what I described in my diary as the other peaks. These are the tops on the undulating ridge that includes Dow Crag, Buck Pike & Brown Pike before dropping down to the Walna Scar Pass where I turned right onto the track that took me down into the Duddon Valley past a digger working on the track and, despite finding muddy ground underfoot, I crossed the stepping stones over the River Duddon and over the hill into Eskdale. For some reason I ignored the striking Harter Fell just to my right and stayed on the bridlepath passing all the way over into Eskdale. By taking an unwavering course to Eskdale I'd gotten there a little early so after reaching the Doctor Bridge, beside the River Esk, I turned left instead of right and had a walk along the river.

I had in mind to look for Stanley Force, but I didn't really have a clue what I was doing, or where I was going. When I reached St Catherine’s Church, a plain structure built of the local granite, I sat there on a seat looking across the river. I remember the weather being good at this point with the sun shining overhead and the small trains of the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway could be clearly heard in the distance. The waterfall that I had been looking for was actually not far away from me, just across the river, but it would be another nine years before I finally located it. This walk was full of contrasts. It started in the rugged mountains of the Coniston Fells amidst the remains of 19th Century mines, but ended in the sylvan beauty of Eskdale on a gorgeous afternoon. Amidst all the rush to bag fells it is important to stop and enjoy your surroundings, with the valley bottoms being just as delightful as the fell tops and there are few valley bottoms more delightful than Eskdale.