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.