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.

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.

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.

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.

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.