Dodd

Tuesday 22nd July 2003

After the hot weather that I had enjoyed at the beginning of this holiday it was now beginning to look like the weather would continue to get worse with my worst weather yet on this walk. On this day I had planned to walk up Skiddaw, the sprawling Munro sized mountain that towers over the town of Keswick, but I never got there. I started by walking beside the River Derwent following the rarely walked, though clearly marked on OS Maps, Allerdale Ramble across the fields between Derwent Water and Bassenthwaite Lake. The terrain is flat farmland without any redeeming features, but it wasn’t too long before I reached the edge of Dodd Wood where the terrain changed completely. Near Dancing Gate I entered the wood and climbed steeply up the hillside until I got to a forest road. With the tiring climb over I now had a relaxing walk along the broad track, past flowering foxgloves, following the contours around the hillside into the deeply carved valley of Skill Beck.

Easy-graded forest tracks brought me all the way through the wood till I came out of the trees near the Ravenstone Hotel at the foot of “The Edge”. At this point it was raining, it was windy and the cloud level was about a thousand feet, not far above where I now stood beside the fell wall. I had planned on walking up the Edge towards Skiddaw, but the prospect of this didn’t strike me as being fun in the poor weather conditions. If I had someone with me who was willing to go up I would probably have done it, but in the end I returned to the wood. This was still very early in my hill-walking career and at the time I had little experience of being at the top of a mountain in poor weather. I wasn’t confident in my ability to navigate in bad weather (I didn’t have any GPS devices on me), and I wasn’t sure my waterproofs would keep me dry. Since this occasion I have been up to the top of Skiddaw when it’s been blowing a gale and when it’s been snowing heavily. In fact I can remember going up three times and on all but the first time the weather was really poor with snow being a common feature of both subsequent occasions.

Even now I think I would be reluctant to go up to the top of Skiddaw in the conditions that I had in 2003 and could easily have taken the same decision again, not despite the ten years’ experience I have gained since that walk but because of it. Last year I abandoned a walk up Ben Venue in Scotland because of weather conditions similar to those encountered on this walk and my thinking was the same: it wouldn’t have been fun. There are many good places to go for a walk in the Lake District that don’t involve standing at the top of a Munro sized mountain in bad weather (although, been there, done that!). Quite rightly I turned around and headed back into the wood descending to the main car park for Dodd Wood, near Mirehouse.  There I consulted the map beside the car park for any way-marked walks in the wood that I could do and two things struck me as worth looking at: an osprey watch and Dodd summit.

The viewing platform for the Osprey Watch is not far from the car park, and the website for Dodd Wood suggests that “all visitors should make their way there first,” so that was where I went to have a look through telescopes at the ospreys that had first bred in the Lake District just two years previously. From the Osprey Watch I dropped back down to Skill Beck and followed the stream up to the top of the valley past what Wainwright describes as ‘unexpected cliffs’ (called Long Doors) where a right turn took me onto a recently constructed path that took me to the summit of Dodd. A standing stone at the top declares that this is ‘Dodd Summit 1612 feet,’ which isn’t very high, but I was fortunate that just the year before all the trees had been cleared from the summit which afforded me with some good views thanks to the rising cloud level so I was able to see along the length of Bassenthwaite and past Keswick to Derwent Water.

With the weather improving slightly I considered having another attempt of going up Skiddaw, taking a clear path from the Long Doors col up to Carl Side. In the end I decided against it and descended the wood alongside Scalebeck Gill coming out near Millbeck where it was now a simple matter to follow road and path along the route of the Allerdale Ramble back to Keswick. In the event the day had provided me with an enjoyable walk despite the weather. I would eventually gain that experience I needed of being at the top of a mountain in poor weather, but until then this walk showed me that I didn’t need good weather in order to have a good walk.

Bowscale Fell and Blencathra

The Lakes 2003, part 8
Monday 21st July 2003

This was rather a disastrous day in one respect: I lost my wallet, including my YHA card, debit card and £30. I have no idea where it was. I looked all around and asked at the hostel and the bank, but there was no sign of it. I don’t even know where I lost it; all I know is that I had it at the start of the day and I didn’t have it when I got back to the hostel. The walk started from Mungrisdale on the eastern edge of the Northern Fells so I caught a bus from Keswick that took me to that small idyllic village. Out of the four routes of ascent to Bowscale Fell that Wainwright listed I took ‘Route 4’, which Wainwright described as being the best of all. I can’t have known this at the time so why did I take this route? In later years I always based my routes on what I’d found in the Wainwrights, but this can’t have been the case on my earliest walks in the Lakes, so what was driving my decisions? I can’t remember, aside from a desire to climb the highest fells.

However I came up with the route, I climbed up onto the east ridge through gorse and bracken from the northern tip of the village of Mungrisdale to the top of the ridge where I had a pleasant walk across the heather moor to the top of Bowscale Fell. I remember stopping for a while crouched down behind the stone shelter at the summit, sheltering from the strong wind and I have always wondered whether that was the place where I’d lost my wallet, but, wherever it was, I proceeded from there south-south-west towards Blencathra. I wouldn’t have visited Bannerdale Crags on the way since I wasn’t aiming at visiting all the Wainwrights at that time and wouldn’t have considered it worth visiting as it does not have a noticeable rise. The notes I made at the time make no mention of it, but I would have thought I’d have at least walked over to the edge of the crags to have a look down into Bannerdale, but I can’t remember. I also have no idea whether I walked up to the edge of Tarn Crags overlooking Bowscale Tarn. I have never gotten a closer look at the tarn than from the top of these crags, but I doubt I even got that close on this occasion.

My next target was Blencathra for which I was heading straight towards, avoiding the perilous Sharp Edge while making excuses to myself that it was damp and very windy, but ultimately it was because I was a coward. When I eventually did climb Sharp Edge it was just before Christmas 2006 when the weather was no better, if not worse. Instead I climbed the northern slopes of the fell over Blue Screes to the top of Atkinson Pike. This took me above the cloud line and so with no views I walked past the white crosses that lie on the ground between Atkinson Pike and Blencathra before climbing up the fellside to Hallsfell Top and the summit of Blencathra. Unfortunately there was no view to see but I was sure that it would have been spectacular, as subsequent visits to the top of Blencathra have shown; the view down St John’s in the Vale is superb.

From the top of Blencathra I passed along the top of the ridge to the western end and steeply descended the long grassy slopes of Blease Fell to the Blencathra Centre. I then took a clever little route through fields following footpath signs past Derwentfolds and Brundholme down to the Keswick Railway Footpath, but I have no idea how I knew about this route, though it may have been something I had read on the internet. The Keswick Railway Footpath is an excellent way to get back to Keswick through lovely woodland at the bottom of the Greta Valley along a magnificent old railway bed. I got back to the hostel at 2.15, which was very early, but as it turned out I needed the time. It was while I was on the walk that I discovered I didn’t have my wallet, so when I got back into the hostel I had a good look around for it, but I couldn’t find it, so I had to go to the bank and report my card lost and ironically get some money from the same branch that I had gotten money without any identification from the year before.

This was all really rather annoying, and I was beginning to think I was jinxed in the Lake District. The year before, the first time I had been to the Lake District, I left my wallet at home so I had to survive without it all fortnight. Now on my second visit I lost my wallet and would once again have to manage without. Thankfully I haven’t lost my wallet again since this occasion. Unfortunately this incident detracted from what should have been a great walk over one of the best fells in the Lake District. Blencathra is a stunning mountain that attracts the eye whenever you see it, and is the first fell seen when entering the Lake District from Penrith. I have climbed Blencathra many times since, often when the summit is covered in snow (as it was last Easter on my most recent visit), and each time it has been a delight and a joy.

High Spy and Cat Bells

The Lakes 2003, part 7
Sunday 20th July 2003

I was a little annoyed following my walk on this day. The weather forecast appeared to be for showers in the morning and heavy rain and thunder in the afternoon, so since the top of a hill is not the sort of place you want to be in the middle of a thunder storm I decided that I ought to get to Keswick as quickly as possible. I don’t know if I’d misinterpreted the weather forecast or if it was just plain wrong, but the weather was not like this, there was no thunder at all and in fact the weather cleared up in the afternoon leaving me stuck in Keswick when the weather was at its best. My plan for the day had involved climbing Dale Head, which I’d missed out on the year before when poor weather brought me down off the fells before I reached Dale Head, so instead I climbed beside Tongue Gill, past the disused Rigghead Quarries and up onto the fells. I remember that I started by walking alongside the River Derwent until I reached the mouth of Tongue Gill where I turned left to follow the stream up.

It is a shame that I didn’t use Wainwright’s recommended route from Rosthwaite that goes via the youth hostel through Johnny Wood and past Scaleclose Force. The route I took would have made sense from the village of Rosthwaite and the reason Wainwright didn’t recommend it is revealed in the original version of the guides where it is mentioned that new fences and fallen bridges had closed the direct path. This is no longer the case and Chris Jesty’s revised edition now mentions the direct route over New Bridge and up this path that I took in 2003 beside Tongue Gill. The upshot is that I have never taken the route through Johnny Wood or visited the waterfall of Scaleclose Force, which is a shame. Beyond the clear bridlepath between Seatoller and Grange a path is shown on maps and mentioned in the original editions of Wainwright’s as being a useful shortcut, but the revised edition doesn’t mention it so maybe it cannot now be found.

This is all the more reason for me to be keen on returning to this area to explore these unvisited paths. I think the only other occasion that I have been to this area was at the end of 2008 when it was very cold, but on that occasion I dodged large sheets of ice while coming down from Rigg Head before following the Quarry Road to Grange. On this occasion despite the poor weather I was able to explore the many ruined buildings of the Rigghead Quarries and even ventured a short distance into one of the levels, which proved a handy shelter from the rain, but it wouldn’t have been prudent to have ventured far. Once I reached Rigg Head I turned north and climbed up to the top of High Spy. On a couple of occasions I have climbed up to what Wainwright described as the Hinterland of Goat Crag, the wide upland area east of the summit of High Spy, but this is the only occasion when I actually reached the summit. It was raining quite heavily while I was at the top, but I had clear views despite the rain and the walk along the top of the ridge was very enjoyable.

The ridge narrows to the col and then broadens onto Maiden Moor, and I dutifully visited the summit before descending the elegant, broad ridge to Hause Gate. By the time I got to Cat Bells the sun had come out and stayed out for the rest of the afternoon affording me with tremendous views across Derwent Water and over Keswick to the great bulk of Skiddaw. By this time I was beginning to feel rather cheated by the weather forecast. Not only had I failed to walk up Dale Head two years running, but I now felt that I had been left to spend the afternoon wandering around the streets of Keswick. The route I took to get to Keswick was one I have used countless times since, through Fawe Park and the village of Portinscale, and this was the first time that I had the pleasure, but I wasn’t enjoying the experience. I spent some of the afternoon listening to the British Grand Prix on the radio, which had been an enjoyable experience the year before on the Hopegill Head ridge, but I had problems with reception while walking at the bottom of the valley towards Keswick. 

This was now the third day running on my holiday where the weather had started poor only for it to be sunny after lunchtime, but for the third day running I hadn’t taken advantage of this improvement in the weather. My poor planning was leaving me feeling both annoyed and disappointed. Interpreting the weather, including the forecast, is a skill when hill-walking and at this early stage in my experience I was still not very good at interpreting the signs properly. I was still wary of bad weather as I lacked the experience and confidence to know that I would be okay even if I was at the top of a mountain when the weather was bad. Unfortunately that would not change on this holiday.

Allen Crags and Glaramara

The Lakes 2003, part 6
Saturday 19th July 2003

The weather on this walk was similar to that encountered on the previous day with rain, wind and low cloud in the morning followed by sunshine and blue skies in the afternoon. I started by heading towards Glaramara on the path up Thornythwaite Fell, but I didn’t get very far until I needed the toilet and given the delicate nature of my digestive system following curry night on Thursday at the Black Sail Youth Hostel I decided to reverse my steps to the public convenience in the car park at Seatoller. Given where I now found myself I decided to change my plans and headed along the road to Seathwaite, and once through the farm I went along the good path beside Grains Gill that is easy on the foot but enjoyable to the eye even as I soon plunged into the clouds. I have taken this route several times since, most recently when I was in the Lake District last September and it was pouring with rain, but the path alongside Grains Gill has always been a delight no matter the weather.

This path is often used as a route to Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England, and I have climbed Scafell Pike myself by this route, in 2006. Despite its popularity and the heavy manufacturing that this popularity makes necessary to prevent it eroding away, it has remained a great route onto the fells, and one that I always enjoy taking. At the top of the path I turned left to the false Esk Hause, the saddle between Esk Hause and Allen Crags often mistaken for Esk Hause itself. At the crossroads at the top of the saddle I turned left and made my way up the short climb to the top of Allen Crags, where I had my lunch on the summit while the clouds began to lift from the tops of the fells. As I made my way towards Glaramara the cloud lifted completely to reveal a glorious view of Borrowdale and the surrounding area that extended all the way to Derwent Water and Keswick.

This walk along the ridge between Allen Crags and Glaramara was a delight and one that I would love to do again, and I had actually planned on using that route when I was in the Lakes last September until heavy rain forced me onto the Grains Gill path. I had a great time on this walk over Glaramara and my enjoyment increased with every step, just as the weather improved with every moment. Unfortunately as I stood at the top of Glaramara I couldn’t see how I could prolong the walk as ahead of me was a slowly descending ridge that would eventually being an end to my walk. My onward route seemed fixed, unless I retraced my steps back to Allen Crags, which I didn’t want to do, so it was with great reluctance that I slowly descended over Thornythwaite Fell, really not wanting to come down off the fells, but eventually returned to Borrowdale.

I guess this walk was dictated by my decision to walk to Seathwaite and up Grains Gill. Once I turned towards Allen Crags and Glaramara the walk could end only one way, and that sooner than I wanted. If I had climbed Glaramara directly, as I’d originally intended, I’d have been able to go in a multitude of directions after passing over Allen Crags, including visiting Scafell Pike. Therefore, this walk shows that even if you make a decision that at the time seems to be the right one, given your present location and the current weather conditions, it can later turn out to be the wrong decision and one that you’ll regret. It’s funny how often that happens in life, in many different applications.

Ennerdale to Borrowdale

The Lakes 2003, part 5
Friday 18th July 2003

With Christmas already a distant memory and even the New Year celebrations in the past, it's time to continue recounting my holiday in the Lake District from 2003. This was only the second time I had ever visited the Lake District, but this was not a walk to be remembered.

The night before this walk I had been at the Black Sail Youth Hostel where they had one of their legendary curry nights, which was incredible with a stunning array of seven different curries, but I spent the whole next day suffering from the consequences. My digestive system was in a terrible state all day, which is always a sign that they were good, proper curries (it’s curious how supermarket curries never have this effect). In addition to this I was very tired following five hard walks in six days, plus I was in desperate need of a shower and a chance to wash my clothes, so I cut the walk short on this day. I headed up Ennerdale onto the Tongue first thing in the morning into a strong wind and low cloud; there was now no sign of the good weather that I had been fortunate to enjoy for most of the week; that the heavy overnight rain had finally stopped was small consolation. With great effort I managed to drag myself up the broad, grassy, pathless ridge of the Tongue until I finally reached the Moses’ Trod path beneath the Windy Gap where I turned left.

Staying on this path I blindly followed it through the clouds, across a fence and over the gentle northern slopes of Brandreth and Grey Knotts until I neared Honister where the cloud level lifted and I was given a view of the Hopper Slate Quarry ahead and Buttermere in the distance to my left. After passing through Honister Hause I followed the course of the old road down into Borrowdale. As I descended the sun came out to reveal what turned out to be a glorious afternoon, but I didn’t feel like doing any more walking so I rushed to the Borrowdale Youth Hostel and spent the rest of the afternoon there. All I needed now was a good night’s sleep so I could resume hill walking the following day in full vigour. Looking back at this walk more than ten years later the only thing that strikes me as odd about it is the route. Why did I go up to the Moses’ Trod instead of climbing the path beside Loft Beck? I had to climb higher on the route that I took and travel further. My notes that I made at the time don’t explain and I can’t remember.