Skiddaw

Sunday 11th April 2004

On this walk I climbed a fell that I had failed to climb the year before due to bad weather. Skiddaw is a three thousand foot high mountain that dominates the scene around Keswick and draws crowds of people up its wide footpaths. The previous year I had tried to climb Skiddaw by the Edge, a narrow ridge that passes over Ullock Pike before rising to the heights of Skiddaw Man. After being thwarted in my efforts then due to the bad weather (although my inexperience may have really been why I turned back – a few years later I would have probably gone up), I was now determined to get to the top so I decided to take the wide tourist route. Most tourists would have actually driven a least a third of the way up, to the car park at the end of Gale Road before starting their ascent, however since I didn’t have a car to use and I preferred a more honest starting point, I started from the Youth Hostel in Keswick crossing Fitz Park to Spoony Green Lane and began with a lovely climb through woodland around Latrigg.

I didn’t divert from my intended destination by being distracted into going to the top of Latrigg, but followed the clear path beyond steeply up the hillside. Eventually the steep climb eased as the path turned to the north-west to reach a fence on Jenkin Hill. I didn’t cross the fence, but turned off the main path keeping the fence to my right while on my way up to Little Man, a prominent mountain that suffers from its close association to Skiddaw, and is even sometimes named after it: Skiddaw Little Man. The only reason I was going to the top was to bag it, however Wainwright failed to recommend the Skiddaw Tourist Route as a way up Little Man and perhaps a mere walk along the ridge to ‘bag it’ does Little Man a disservice. A proper climb of Little Man would be from Millbeck or Applethwaite and is needed to fully appreciate the true stature of this mountain.

I came back down the ridge on the other side of Little Man and rejoined the tourist track to continue up the stony path to the summit of Skiddaw. With warm weather on this Easter Sunday there were many people milling around the top, including a man with a huge aerial on his back making or receiving radio transmissions. I quickly walked north away from the crowds at the summit to the north top, which I found to be curiously devoid of people. In clear weather I’m sure the views northwards are terrific, unfortunately on this occasion I was surrounded by clouds, however as I returned to the summit the eastern slopes opened to reveal stunning vistas of the surrounding country. On my subsequent visits to the top of Skiddaw I have always suffered with poor weather (often snow, which makes finding a suitable picture to accompany this blog difficult), and so I have rarely had a view. On this occasion I had good weather, but patchy cloud meaning that any views were fleeting at best.

Eventually I began to descend loose slopes south-west towards Carl Side with the scenery finally opening up to provide me with glorious sunlit views of the adjacent valleys and across Bassenthwaite Lake. My descent on the loose stones seemed pathless on a featureless unrelentingly steep slope and definitely not to my liking. I would have hated to have tried to walk up it so despite the crowds on the tourist route I thought that was preferable to this hard slog. Having subsequently climbed this steep slope I now know there are paths that take a gentler route up, but there are no good routes up the steep, stony slopes of Skiddaw. A short climb brought me to the top of Carl Side where I was able to view the delicious scenes of Derwent Water to the south; the weather, which had been improving by the minute, were now finally producing the picture postcard scenes that you get in the Lake District.

From Carl Side I headed north along Longside Edge over Ullock Pike and down the Edge, the ridge that I had tried to use as my ascent route the year before. This time I had a fabulous walk in excellent weather with extensive views to the north and with views to the west and south that would keep improving all the way down, while the summit of Skiddaw resolutely held onto its clouds. Once I was off the Edge I turned around and headed back to Keswick through Dodd Wood walking a short distance away from the road for much of the way before heading up to the villages of Millbeck and Applethwaite where there is an amazing vantage point and a diagram that shows a plan of the view before you over Keswick and across Derwent Water with the fells of Borrowdale lining the horizon. By now it was a clear hot day with every hill out of the clouds and a stunning view. Why go abroad when you can have views like this?

Blencathra by Fell’s Fell Ridge

Saturday 10th April 2004

At this time of the year on my blog I run out of walks that I have done and in order to keep posting something every week I go back to a walk that I did many years ago that hasn’t previously been covered. However, this practice is not going to work for much longer as I’m soon going to run out of old walks to go on my blog, but that is not a problem yet as I have a fantastic holiday in the Lake District to describe from Easter 2004. Subsequent to this holiday I have returned to the Lake District at Easter more often than not as it is a great time of the year to be walking in the Lakes and a great place to walk at Easter. Previous to this visit I had been to the Lake District on just two occasions and so I was still at this time relatively inexperienced at fell-walking and this showed in the choices that I made and the walks that I did, however this holiday also shows progress compared with my two previous visits. Every time you go to the Lake District you learn a little more about yourself and that fabulous place.

At the start of the holiday I spent all morning on that first day travelling to the Lake District, arriving in Penrith at noon where I caught a bus to Threlkeld and headed straight across the fields at the back of the village to the foot of Hall’s Fell. I stopped only briefly to have my lunch before beginning to climb the steep heather-clad fell. The going wasn’t too bad with a clear path leading me most of the way until I reached the rocks at the top of the ridge and from then on I enjoyed a fabulous scramble while trying to decide the best route across the rocks. Route selection is always part of the challenge on steep scrambles, even if they are on narrow ridges such as this. Bear in mind that I was inexperienced in scrambling at this point, so I was not able to draw on my previous experience to enable me to select the best route. On a number of occasions I clambered up some seriously steep rocks only to find an easier path on the other side that I could have taken.

I have subsequently descended Hall’s Fell Ridge twice, in 2006 and 2011, both times after climbing the much trickier scramble of Sharp Edge on the other side of Blencathra, but I have not climbed Hall’s Fell Ridge again since this first time, which must be a shame as it is a great way of climbing to the top of a mountain. With luck, on that first ascent I was easily able to negotiate the steep rocky ridge and finally reached the summit of Blencathra, known as Hallsfell Top, which lies at the very top of the ridge. When I got to the summit I found that I was in luck again as the cloud that covered the fells to the south was absent not only from the top of Blencathra itself, but over all of the northern fells including Skiddaw which revealed to me magnificent views across the fells and beyond to the Solway Firth and into Scotland. Subsequent visits to the top of Blencathra have almost always been when snow has been on the ground (such as below) and the only exception was at Easter 2011, when I had low cloud.

The best views from the top of Blencathra are towards Derwent Water and Keswick and that was where I now headed proceeding west along the top of Blencathra, which is something I usually do when on the fell even when I’m not descending in that direction as the views west open out gloriously as you walk along the ridge. There is only a small drop to the next top, Gategill Fell, and you don’t lose much height before reaching Knowe Crags, at the end of the ridge, at the top of Blease Fell. This is a fabulous walk along the top of the world with great views ahead towards Derwent Water and the distinctive fells of the north west corner of the Lake District. At the top of Blease Fell a steep descent brought me down the grassy slopes with trails cut through the bracken lower down that led me all the way to the car park near the Blencathra Centre.

There is a great route to Keswick from the Blencathra Centre that wasn’t possible when Wainwright wrote his pictorial guide to the Northern Fells, but is now mentioned in Chris Jesty’s revised edition.  I knew about that route long before the revision came out and I took it now along a footpath behind the Blencathra Centre to the old farmhouse of Derwentfolds, continuing the descent to a footbridge over Glenderaterra Beck where a farmer’s access road brought me within striking distance of the old railway to Keswick. This railway was still active when Wainwright was writing his guides and finally closed in 1972. It is now open as a footpath from the outskirts of Threlkeld all the way to Keswick and is a great walk through the wooded valley of the River Greta with the railway crossing the river nine times on its four mile length. This was a wonderful way to end my first day in the Lake District and set me up for a great holiday to come.

Manorbier to Bosherston

Saturday 30th August 2014

On the final day of my holiday on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path I was surprised to realise that I was disappointed to be leaving Pembrokeshire. I had become used to walking many miles along the coast and despite the often unchanging routine of the landscape I missed it when I moved away from the coast. The last section of the coastal path that I did on this holiday was twelve miles from the Manorbier Youth Hostel to village of Bosherston where I had to catch a bus to start my journey home. When I left the hostel the sun was shining, which I felt was a welcome change from the previous day and what had unfortunately been the norm for much of this holiday. The rocks on this section of the Pembrokeshire coast are red sandstone, which contrasted strikingly with the volcanic rocks that I had seen earlier in my holiday. There were none of the high, dramatic sea cliffs and instead the coast was more heavily eroded with gently descending slopes down to the sea.

Generally I prefer volcanic rocks, but I still thought the coastline was spectacular and I really enjoyed my walk once I passed Manorbier Range as I was able to get a lot closer to the sea than I had been able to earlier in the holiday. There were striking vertical stripes in the rocks on the coast as I rounded Priest’s Nose and passed around Manorbier Bay, but because I had a bus to catch I needed to ensure that I kept up a brisk pace and I’d set myself targets to reach at certain locations within a timeframe that would enable me to catch the bus. Despite needing to average three miles an hour I was easily able to maintain the required pace thanks to a lack of steep gradients as the trail lacked the steep ups and downs that I’d suffered earlier in the week. Swanlake Bay and Freshwater East came and went until I reached Stackpole where the rock changed from red sandstone to grey limestone.

The change in the rock was obvious and led to a clear change in the coastline with caves, blowholes and arches becoming common place. This section of Pembrokeshire has been described as typifying why the coast was worthy of National Park status, but unless I was in too much of a hurry I really couldn’t see the appeal. While the coastline was heavily eroded into a complex line of cliffs, the land above the cliffs was flat and uninteresting apart from the multitudinous wildflowers that covered the meadows wherever farming allowed. Unfortunately I prefer the more rugged, brutal landscape of the volcanic rocks to this more beautiful, soft landscape of limestone. After lingering far too briefly at the delectable Barafundle Bay I headed out onto Stackpole Head where limestone tried its utmost to change my mind.

Here limestone cliffs were at its best with deep inlets, enticing sea-level caves and steep cliff-faces that were proving too enticing for many people who were scaling their sheer faces. I wandered around this popular point in awe of the amazing rock formations and took many pictures. Fortunately I had maintained such a fast pace during the course of the morning that I was now able to spend quite a bit of time at Stackpole Head and look at the disintegrating rocks of the peninsula. Eventually I tore myself away and made my way along the coast to Broad Haven where the path, continuing to St Govan's Head, enters Castlemartin Range, which has restricted access. In order to ensure that I caught my bus I decided to leave the coast at Broad Haven, and so I didn't need to worry about access problems and headed straight towards the village of Bosherston.

However, I had an ulterior motive as I wanted to visit the famous Lily Ponds of Bosherston. Behind Broad Haven are three limestone valleys that have been dammed to create stunning lakes that are teeming with wildlife, and most notably lilies. The lilies are at their best in early summer and since I was now a couple of months late the display was not as good as they could be, but it was still an awesome sight and to see these ponds almost full of water lilies was incredible. I was astounded by these lakes and could have easily spent the rest of the day slowly walking around and exploring the whole delightful area. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to do that, so instead I followed the route of the coastal path (for when the range is closed) over Grassy Bridge to the central causeway where the lilies of the Lily Ponds could be seen in all their glory.

Although there were only a few white lilies in bloom there was still a stunning sight before me that only got better as I climbed to the top of a small limestone hill where I behold the incredible sight of these ponds full of lilies. To see these ponds in June or July must be an awesome sight and something that is going to be difficult to avoid. Beyond the second causeway a short climb brought me to the village of Bosherston where I caught a bus to start my journey home. The Lily Ponds were a fabulous end to a holiday that was considerably more enjoyable than I’d anticipated or hoped. I usually walk up mountains, so I wasn’t sure how I would enjoy coastal walking, but I loved the coastal paths and especially the challenge of walking twenty-four miles every day for several days. I was astonished by how much I’d enjoyed the Pembrokeshire coast, so much so that as I was leaving on the bus I was thinking about returning so I could walk the sections of the path that I’d missed this time.

Saundersfoot to Manorbier

Friday 29th August 2014

My original plan for this day was to continue my walk along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path from Broad Haven, where I had reached on the trail the previous day, along the coast around the Marloes Peninsula as far as the village of Dale. Unfortunately due to a lack of availability at the Poppit Sands Youth Hostel at the start of my holiday I had been forced to delay the start of my walk around the Pembrokeshire Coast by one day and that day had to be lost somewhere and this was where it was done. Beyond Dale the coastal path enters the vast estuary of Milford Haven, an area outside of the national park dominated by unsightly oil refineries and liquefied natural gas plants. Although the trail goes past these industries I had no intention of doing so. Instead, after spending several years trying to devise a way of circumventing the enormous natural harbour, I eventually came up with a plan that literally approached it from the other direction.

Instead of restarting the coastal path after Milford Haven I caught a bus to the seaside town of Saundersfoot, just four miles from the end of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, or is that four miles from the start? From there I walked back along the coast towards Milford Haven on the last two days of my holiday. I didn’t like the seaside resort of Saundersfoot so I quickly set off along the coast path initially along a road due to the beach route being inaccessible at high tide. The weather for this walk was once again poor with high winds, low cloud and the ever-present threat of rain. This made the walk rather tricky underfoot with slippery paths as I made my way along an otherwise pleasant route through Rhode Wood, which I thought was a nice change as woodland had been rather lacking on the trail until this point. A lot of gradient changes on the path made this a particularly tiring walk and the slippery ground did not make it any easier.

On reaching Monkstone Point I took a narrow path off the trail that ventured towards the end of the promontory, but ended above high cliffs, so I headed quickly back onto the trail reaching it just as it started to rain heavily. With the rain falling I took a very steep and very slippery path down onto Monkstone Beach where I immediately realised I had gone the wrong way. A man on the beach told me that several people over the last couple of days who had been fooled into taking the steep path down onto this beach, but that was no consolation for me having to climb all the way back up the steep and slippery path to the top of the promontory. The proper path continued to undulate with many ups and downs until eventually I reached the delightful seaside town of Tenby, and I was so relieved to have finally reached Tenby that I stopped and had my lunch overlooking the North Beach.

I am told that I have been to Tenby before, but since I was a small child at the time I have no memory of it, and the sight of it now didn’t awaken any dormant memories. However, this is a shame as I really enjoyed Tenby and was not in a hurry to rush through the resort. Where Saundersfoot was filled with amusement arcades, Tenby had a lot of promenades that were a pleasure to walk along where one could survey the wonderful beach at the bottom of the cliffs. I suppose my preference in seaside resorts are for those that have more of a Victorian feel to them rather than those that have a more commercialised, twentieth century feel to them; I prefer Torquay to Blackpool. I didn’t have a lot of miles to cover this day, unlike on my previous three days, so I was able to spend time exploring Tenby and walk to the top of Castle Hill before starting a gentle stroll along the beach.

Tenby South Beach is very extensive and except for a brief climb up to the cliff-top promenade I walked along the sands all the way from St Catherine’s Island to Giltar Point. Despite very strong winds I scrambled all the way to the end of the promontory for the great views that could be seen through the mist over the sands back to Tenby. From there I resumed the coastal path through Penally Rifle Range, which fortunately wasn’t active and was carpeted with a lovely display of wildflowers. However, the weather deteriorated at this point, and it hadn’t been great all day. It started raining again so I wrapped myself up in waterproofs again, kept my head down and kept going along the path without paying much notice to my surroundings. The rain stopped as I approached Lydstep Haven, which enabled me to drop down onto the beach before climbing up to Lydstep Point.

The rocks at this point were very different to those I’d previously seen as limestone was now the dominant rock which created a terrain remarkably different to those that I had seen on other sections of the coastal path. The weather failed to improve during the last little section of the day that brought me from Lydstep to the Manorbier Youth Hostel. This walk was considerably shorter than on my previous days when I had walked about twenty-four miles each day, and had become used to it. I now almost missed the long distances and with this walk being no more than ten miles I was left feeling rather disappointed. I might actually prefer longer walks, but I think the difference with this walk is that the terrain was less dramatic than I’d previously seen and the weather was poorer than the day before.