Blencathra and Bowscale Fell

Monday 6th April 2015

Once again when I left Skiddaw House the weather was stunning with clear blue skies overhead, however once I had passed over the watershed, at the Stake, I noticed that the Vale of Keswick was full of thick mist just as I had seen the day before surrounding the Lake District. The stunning sight of this thermal inversion filled me with excitement as there is a chance of seeing the rare optical illusion of a Brocken Spectre at such moments so was looking forward to the prospect. With eager anticipation I made my way down the path taking the left junction to the eastern side of the valley so that I would be ideally placed for my shadow to fall onto the mist and form the rainbow-coloured halo effect around my head that is typical of Brocken Spectres. However, in the end the mist was too thin for a clear spectre to be seen, though the sun was so bright that even in these conditions a faint spectre could still be seen. You have to be really lucky and in precisely the right place at precisely the right time to see a good Brocken Spectre.

Nevertheless it was stunning to see the cloud filling the valley ahead of me until eventually as I continued around the wide track I descended below the level of the mist and reached the Blencathra Centre. After a short spell along the road coming from the centre, I took a path that follows the fell-wall above the fields that led me to Gate Gill. A couple of months ago, while writing on this blog, about my first ever ascent of Hall’s Fell Ridge, I realised that although I have subsequently been down the ridge several times I had not climbed up this fabulous ridge since. At that moment I changed my plans for this holiday and incorporated a climb up Hall’s Fell Ridge on this walk and in view of the great weather I’m glad that I did. It wasn’t long before I had climbed above the clouds and as I climbed the excellent zigzagging, craggy path the mist began to disappear from the valleys until by the time I reached the top of Blencathra, Hall’s Fell Top, the valleys were completely clear of mist.

I really enjoyed climbing Hall’s Fell Ridge, from Gate Gill all the way up to the top, but it starts getting really exciting half way along when the ridge narrows and turns into a delectable scramble. There are many paths that bypass most difficulties but those difficulties, usually right on top of the ridge, are never more than grade one and thrilling rather than terrifying when attempted. Wainwright was definitely right when he said, “For active walkers and scramblers, this route is positively the finest way to any mountain-top in the district.” This was a gorgeous climb in fabulous weather with improving views over the Lake District and was easily my highlight of the day, if not my whole holiday. Eventually I reached the top of Hall’s Fell Ridge, the summit of Blencathra, for the second day running and from there made my way across to Atkinson Pike.

At the foot of Foule Crag I was reunited with the course of the watershed between the River Derwent and the River Eden almost twenty-four hours after I’d left it. I now resumed the main purpose on my holiday: following the watershed across the length of the Lake District. After crossing the col at the top of the Glenderamackin valley I headed up the hill opposite to the top of a tiny rise above Bannerdale Crags. This rise rather than the highest top above Bannerdale Crags is on the watershed and from there I made my way across the very boggy ground north to Bowscale Fell. Despite the boggy ground I thoroughly enjoyed the traverse as I jumped across the bogs with the aid of my walking poles and happily sailed over Bowscale Fell, swung to the right and sailed along the ridge gradually descending to Mungrisdale.

However, as I was approaching Mungrisdale failure was staring me in the face. From the foot of the ridge the watershed continues to Eycott Hill across farmland that has no public access. There is also no access to the route of the watershed after Eycott Hill as it passes over the A66 and over the top of Great Mell Fell. I was unable to continue along the watershed so after passing through the pretty daffodil-filled village of Mungrisdale I turned around, abandoned the walk and started heading towards Keswick. I had decided that I would take a route along the valley of the River Glenderamackin, a place that I had never thoroughly explored before. The only time that I had been in this valley before was in wintry conditions for the short distance to the foot of the east ridge of Bannerdale Crags and the path as far as this branch was actually very wet and narrow, but beyond Bannderdale Beck it was much wider and drier making the walking along the valley considerably more pleasurable.

After the valley swung to the right a bridge appeared over the river and a slanting path gave me easy access to the top of Mousthwaite Comb. A deliciously narrow and precipitous path passes through the crags on the western side of the comb before swinging around the lower slopes of Scale Fell down to the fell-wall above Scales Farm. From there I simply had to follow the wall back to Gate Gill with two things of note on the way. There is a tricky scramble across Scaley Beck, which I remember doing two years ago before starting my climb of Doddick Fell, and is a challenging sting on an otherwise simple path, while the next problem was simply annoying. While traversing the foot of Doddick Fell I passed a path branching right and assumed it was the start of the climb up Doddick Fell. However, the path then descended towards Doddick Farm and I eventually realised that in order to continue beside the fell-wall I would have to climb steeply up the fell to stay on the path. This was not welcome towards the end of a tiring walk.

Eventually I reached the familiar surroundings of Gate Gill, where I had been earlier in the day, and followed footpaths through farmland to the village of Threlkeld. My route onwards to Keswick lay on the picturesque Keswick Railway Footpath through the delightful woods of the River Greta. I couldn’t believe how good the weather had been on this walk with stunning views and bright sunshine all day. I felt really blessed to be in the Lake District during such good weather, however that could all be undone by my own body. My feet and legs were really aching after three hard, tiring days walking that had left several blisters on my feet, and my face and neck badly sunburnt. Nevertheless I was so lucky to be in the Lake District in such great weather, and any walk that includes a climb up Hall’s Fell Ridge is a great walk.

Skiddaw and Blencathra

Sunday 5th April 2015

After a good night’s sleep at Skiddaw House Youth Hostel I awoke to gorgeous blue skies. The last time I stayed at Skiddaw House it had been really cold with snow lying on the ground, so it was fabulous to now be striding out of the hostel to warm weather. Soon after crossing the River Caldew I came off the path and made a course through heather towards the top of Hare Crag. Upon reaching the rocks at the top of Hare Crag I was now on the Derwent-Eden watershed where the streams south of me flow through the River Caldew and ultimately into the River Eden, the great river of the Pennines that extends its influence into the Lake District and claims much of the waters to the east including everything flowing out of Ullswater. To the north of me was Todd Gill, a stream whose waters flow into Bassenthwaite Lake and leaves the Lake District in the River Derwent. Most of the water that falls on the Lake District ultimately flows through the Derwent and reaches the sea at Workington.

For many days on this holiday I would be following the course of this watershed that divides the catchment areas for these two great rivers and at this point I was following the watershed as it steadily climbs the hillside along a faint path all the way up to the north col of Skiddaw, the highest fell in the Northern Fells. Upon reaching the wide track at the top of the ridge I followed the stony zigzagging path up to the north top of Skiddaw from where the main summit was only a short walk away along the stony ridge. Upon reaching the summit ridge the views had opened out to reveal a stunning temperature inversion with mist filling the valleys outside of the Lake District and over the Solway Firth while blue skies reigned overhead. It was a stunning sight where the Lake District seemed as an island floating on a sea of clouds.

When I was at the top of Skiddaw two years ago the weather was bitter, but now it was sensational with hardly a breath of wind and fabulous views across the Lake District. As I made my way south along the summit ridge of Skiddaw the views opened out across Derwent Water towards the fells of Borrowdale in a scene of breathtaking beauty and tranquillity. After crossing a col I climbed up to the top of Skiddaw Little Man, whose summit views are some of the best anywhere in the Lake District. With the whole of the majestic view of the Lake District arrayed before me I was reluctant to move from that spot, but the Easter weekend crowds coming up the busy Keswick path soon forced me to come down the steep path on the other side of the fell and leave the crowds behind by following the fence along the watershed over Jenkin Hill and up to Lonscale Fell.

I had to be very careful when descending the northern slopes of Lonscale Fell as there were drifts of snow still on these steep northern slopes so I was relieved to reach the col at the bottom and start the fabulous narrow ridge of Burnt Horse. To my right were steep crags and I was following a path that clings precipitously to the edge making for an exciting, though short, walk along the ridge until it broadens before I gradually descended beside a fence to the clear path from Keswick to Skiddaw House. Staying on the watershed, I crossed the path and headed to a fence junction marked on maps as The Stake. On the other side of the fence the ground was very wet, but dry ground was just a short distance beyond where a faint path headed straight up the grassy hill towards some rocks. I was walking up the grassy slopes of Mungrisdale Common, which is an infamous fell in the Lake District whose only point of interest is a rock known as Cloven Stone.

I had lunch at this point before making my way across the damp, dreary top of Mungrisdale Common that doesn’t warrant anyone's attention, however, Wainwright gave this grassy mound a chapter in his pictorial guides, even though he said this ‘upland prairie’ was best left to the sheep and precious holiday hours should not be wasted there. Ever since Wainwright gave it this undue attention people have been coming to this sodden field and when I reached the pathetic pile of stones at the so-called ‘summit’ there were a surprisingly large number of people clustered around it. When I visited the miniscule top previously, in 2008, I had come across from Blencathra, the only sensible approach, but I had wanted to actually climb it now and having done so crossed the horrendously boggy fell to the top of Foule Crag on the edge of Blencathra.

At the top of Foule Crag the watershed (a watersoak on Mungrisdale Common) turns left, but I turned right climbing up Blue Screes in order to visit the top of the majestic Blencathra. While I was making my way across to the popular summit of Blencathra, dark clouds had appeared overhead, but they were short-lived and by the time I had returned to the top of Foule Crag the sun was shining once more. With hindsight I shouldn’t have returned to Foule Crag and I should have descended down the steep, grassy, northern slopes of Blencathra from the summit until I reached a sheepfold and then followed Roughten Gill down (this is Wainwright’s recommended route). My route had been conceived to lessen the severity of the gradient and led to my descending on the north bank of the stream. The steep slopes into the gill made this such a tiring and hateful descent that by the time I had passed through the boggy ground at the bottom and finally reached the bridlepath, I had had enough.

When I checked the time I realised it was too early to go straight back to Skiddaw House so I made my way around the top of Glenderaterra Beck onto the Keswick to Skiddaw House path, which I followed heading towards Keswick for a short distance. Two years ago, I had abandoned a plan to climb the north-east buttress of Lonscale Fell because of snow, but I was now able to resurrect that idea and attempt the scramble. There was no path and no sign that anyone else had ever climbed up the steep, wet heather and rock buttress. This was a scary scramble that at times reduced me to crawling up the fell literally on my hands and knees whose one redeeming feature was when I finally, triumphantly, shakily reached the end emerging exactly at the east top of Lonscale Fell and from there the summit was just a short distance away for a second visit of the day.

The weather was once again sensational after the clouds earlier in the afternoon so the views south towards Thirlmere or over Derwent Water to the fells arrayed beyond were mesmerising. I caught my breath back after my harrowing climb by gazing at the views south over the Lake District, wandering around the fell looking for better views. All day I had been astonished at how good the weather was on this walk and with such sensational views. The views now, at the end of the day, were even better than they had been when I had visited Lonscale Fell earlier in the day. As I made a direct route from Lonscale Fell to Skiddaw House I reflected that this was the sort of day in the Lake District that I never want to end so that I had just kept on walking going from Skiddaw all the way up to Blencathra, which is something I’d never done before, but always dreamed of doing. The sun had shone on me in a fabulous day in the Lake District, but that sun was a ticking time-bomb for my skin.

The Uldale Fells

Saturday 4th April 2015

After poor weather during the week leading up to Good Friday I was astonished to arrive in the Lake District and find stunning weather with bright sunshine and clear views. I couldn’t resist returning once again to this most perfect of places to go walking and I was thrilled to be back in the Lakes again, and delighted that the weather was so good. It doesn’t matter how many times I come to the Lake District I seemingly never grow tired of it. I had recently gone more than a year between visits and became more desperate than ever to return, but now I had a whole week to enjoy, and the weather was rejoicing with me. After passing through the village of Bassenthwaite I walked up a quiet lane banked by the yellow flowers of celandines and the green leaves of wild garlic until I reached Cassbeck Bridge where I turned up to the top of the ridge near Orthwaite. My plan on this holiday was to follow watersheds, which are the dividing lines between the catchment areas of two rivers. Coming off the road I climbed the ridge towards Great Cockup that lies on the watershed that had comes into the Lake District over Binsey on a ridge where all the waters south of me ultimately runs into the River Derwent.

It took a long time for me to climb the delightfully named fell of Great Cockup with many false tops prolonging the effort until eventually I reached the tiny pile of stones that mark the summit of the fell. After a lunch that was spent relaxing by the summit in the lovely sunshine, I headed across to Trusmadoor, a fascinating notch in the ridge with a reassuring profusion of rock on both sides of the pass. Since I was following the top of the ridge I made my way up the other side of Trusmadoor, after coming down from Great Cockup, and climbed up to the top of Meal Fell. I had visited these two fells previously in 2008 when I climbed both of them from Trusmadoor in cloudy weather, and on that occasion I had continued along the ridge towards Great Sca Fell. Now though, I thought I’d take an alternative route as I came off the ridge, and off the watershed, north into the valley of the young River Ellen.

When initially planning this holiday I was going to start the walk from the village of Uldale and approach the fells from the north along the watershed for the River Eden. Cuts to the bus service around the Northern Fells had forced a change of plans, and since I had plenty of time on this walk I decided that I could still do my original plan by walking down the tranquil valley of the River Ellen towards Longlands. This was a lovely, enjoyable moment in the walk as I made my own way down the valley with little or no path to follow and no sign of anyone else around me until eventually I picked up a farmer's track that runs beside Longlands Beck with the steep grassy slopes of Longlands Fell towering to my right. At the tiny hamlet of Longlands I turned onto a track round to the northern end of Longlands Fell before turning onto the ridge, picking up the Eden watershed that had come into the Lake District over Aughertree Fell.

At this point the sun had become obscured by thin cloud, so as I climbed the ridge of Longlands Fell it wasn’t as warm as it had been earlier in the day and the views were rather hazy, so I just kept my head down and toiled up the ridge. Beyond the top of Longlands Fell I followed the ridge up to Great Sca Fell. The Uldale Fells are not the most eye-catching fells in the Lake District being really just broad, undulating, grassy ridges with steep sided valleys. This made for a tiring climb with little compensation for the effort until I finally reached the top of Great Sca Fell where the watersheds for the River Derwent and the River Eden meet. I would now be following the Derwent-Eden watershed for many days, but first I had to cross the saturated col that seemed more like being a watersoak rather than a watershed, eventually squelching my way across and up to the summit of Knott.

Knott has a broad, but stony, top commanding great views of the whole of the Northern Fells with the most striking views towards the giants of these fells: Skiddaw and Blencathra. Heading towards Skiddaw I followed a faint path that plunged steeply to an annoyingly deep col and then climbed Great Calva on a very boggy path that may not be draining any water away, but drained all the energy out of me as I climbed. When I finally reached the fence at the top of the ridge between Great Calva and Little Calva I just wanted to get back down the other side of the fell as quickly as possible. With hindsight the best thing to have done would have been to have climbed to the top of Great Calva and descended down the southerly slopes on one of the faint paths that lead from the summit towards Skiddaw House. Instead I headed straight down to the supply road from the fence wading through dense heather descending parallel with Dead Beck.

By the time I’d reached the road I was exhausted and relieved that the walk was nearly at an end. I may have been thrilled to be back in the Lake District, but I had not started my holiday on the greatest fells. My preference on walks is to ascend steeply and to descend as slowly as possible, but on this walk I had done that the other way round. Long grassy ascents had not held my enthusiasm and the descent from Great Calva had been pure madness. My route was dictated by a desire to follow the watershed, though my descent from Great Calva had been nowhere near the watershed, but looking back it is curious to realise that my favourite spot on the walk was when I was not on the watershed. Descending beside the tiny River Ellen was an example of a long, gradual descent and of getting away from the crowds (even in the remote Uldale Fells). That is unfortunately not something that I would get to do very often on this holiday.

A Charnwood Forest Round

Saturday 24th January 2015

Whenever I’m not walking elsewhere in the country I often do a walk in the county of my birth and where I have spent most of my life: Leicestershire. If I want to do a really challenging walk in Leicestershire, then I will go to Charnwood Forest in north-west Leicestershire where some granite topped hills and ancient woodland provides me with the best walking that the county has to offer. I have been coming to this area all my life, so I am very familiar with the walking possibilities available and a couple of years ago I combined several walks to come up with a challenging walk around Charnwood Forest that usually takes me about six hours to complete. It has been so successful that I now do the exact same walk repeatedly every couple of months and so I must have now done the walk at least a dozen times.

I usually alternate the direction that I do the walk and start in a different location depending on which direction I’m going. The last time I did this walk was in January and on that occasion I went around in a clockwise direction starting from the village of Woodhouse Eaves passing the church of St Paul and out of the village along a shady lane. Even though I was walking along the pavement at this point, this was still a pleasant start to the walk with tree-filled gardens either side of the road providing me with lots of interesting plants to see. At first I tried to avoid this street-walking by following footpaths through nearby fields, but eventually I decided that the road was more interesting than the arable fields. After passing the Wheatsheaf Inn I turned right at a T-junction and followed the road round to the left where a right turn soon brought me to the entrance of Swithland Wood.

This small wood is a delight to walk through, especially if you keep off the wide bridlepath and pick your own route along the many slender paths through the wood. I often vary my route through Swithland Wood as I try to find the steepest paths up to the top of the old slag heaps left by the quarrying that was extensive in this area at one time. There has been no quarrying in Swithland Wood for over a hundred years and that has allowed the ancient woodland to reclaim the area with the delightful result of a dazzling display of woodland flowers in the spring that includs bluebells and wood anemones. Unfortunately the last time I walked through Swithland Wood there were no flowers and hardly any leaves on the trees, but it was still a delightful place to walk.

Having made my way through the wood I crossed a road and while walking along a track my next goal was ahead of me: Old John. I have been coming to Bradgate Park all my life, visiting there so many times and on so many occasions that it feels almost as part of the family, and I’m sure many of the people of Leicestershire feel the same. The tower of Old John that sits at the top of the highest point in Bradgate Park is an icon of Leicestershire and it was with satisfaction that I climbed the steep hill once again to the top of Old John. The weather was fabulous for this walk with clear views across the city of Leicester and the surrounding area. The walk continued across to a war memorial that stands guard over the landscape and remembers those of the Leicestershire Yeomanry killed in the two world wars.

I didn’t enter Bradgate Park through one of the car parks and I didn’t leave through one of them either, going through a gate in the park boundary wall, after coming down from off Old John, and down a footpath that took met into the village of Newtown Linford. Turning right I followed the road to a junction where I turned left and onto a footpath that led me to a young woodland planted as part of the National Forest. This section of the walk can be very muddy, especially in January when I last did it. After passing a scouts campsite and some stables I passed more young woodland and an area of parkland also developed as part of the National Forest. On the edge of the busy dual carriageway, the A50, the path climbs to the road and follows it for a distance before disappearing into trees.

Before last year the path took a more discrete route through access land and, since it avoids sight of the road, it is a much better route, even though it can be muddy. Despite the proximity of the nearby road this is a delightful path through woodland that is being allowed to develop naturally and although it is still relatively immature,  I’m sure given time it will develop and when it is colonised by woodland flowers it will be just as delightful as the other woods on this walk. Just before reaching a tunnel under the road I turned away and onto a path that passes through a narrow avenue of hedges slowly climbing Chitterman Hill until finally I reached a quiet lane at the top where a bench that affords extensive views often provides me with a welcome break from the walk.

After a section of road walking I eventually came upon the edge of Ulverscroft Nature Reserve in a section of the reserve that is managed by the Wildlife Trust and access is restricted to trust members. Fortunately, I am a member of the Leicestershire & Rutland Wildlife Trust so I am able to enter the woodland and make my way through the delightful area over the hill and down into Poultney Wood where a right turn onto a public right-of-way led me into a small area of wet woodland near Herbert’s Meadow. This woodland is teeming with woodland flowers in the spring and is a brilliant place to go when the flowers are in bloom. I remember going through this woodland in April last year when the woodland was covered with the white flowers of wood anemones and three weeks later the woodland floor was covered in the blue flowers of bluebells.

Beyond the nature reserve I passed Ulverscroft Lodge and along footpaths on the edge of fields until eventually I emerged onto a road not far from Beacon Hill. A short walk along the road brought me to the edge of West Beacon Fields, an area of young trees on the western slopes of the hill. A short walk through this young woodland brought me to the upper car park and an even shorter walk from there brought me to the top of Beacon Hill. Over the last ten years I have grown to love Beacon Hill, perhaps more than Bradgate Park. While Old John is overfamiliar and very popular, Beacon Hill is more selective and mysterious. Beacon Hill Country Park has more woodland and more hidden corners than Bradgate Park so it keeps me interested every time I visit. For years I would come to Charnwood Forest just so I could walk up Beacon Hill.

The top of Beacon Hill looks over the large town of Loughborough and over much of north Leicestershire, but my walk was far from over. Heading away from the summit I passed along the side of Martin’s Wood and into Felicity’s Wood where a permissive path through the wood gives you access to stunning woodland that has an extensive covering of bluebells in the spring. The path descends to the bottom of the Wood Brook valley and after a relaxing walk along the bottom of the valley it climbs through woodland to the narrow ridge of Buck Hill. I love this place as the gradients fall steeply down to the valley giving the ridge a great, airy feeling that is reminiscent of the Lake District. Sometimes when I am on Buck Hill I feel like I can easily imagine I’m on a mountain.

The permissive path descends very steeply at the end of the ridge and continues through a narrow strip of bluebell filled woodland to a road. On the other side of the road are the young trees of Jubilee Wood where no path has currently been cleared, but a short walk up the road leads to older woodland where a path is possible through to the Outwoods. This wood is also a great place for seeing bluebells in the spring, but even in January it is a lovely place to walk even though by this time I am usually very tired and curse this last climb to the top of the rocks that epitomise the Outwoods. A pleasant walk through the wood eventually leads me to a bridlepath through the edge of woodland and onto Brook Road where a relaxing wind down along the road and through Woodhouse Eaves ends the walk.

If I was going to do the walk in the opposite direction I would park beside Swithland Wood and go through the wood first before proceeding through Woodhouse Eaves towards the Outwoods leaving me with the ascent of Old John at the end of the walk. Having done the walk many times in both directions I think the way described is the better direction and that is the way I took when I tried to see how fast I could do it. On a Summer Bank Holiday Monday I raced around Charnwood Forest in just four hours, but usually this walk takes me about six hours and when I have finished I always feel satisfied at having completed a long and challenging walk. It may be only about twelve miles, but there are many ups and downs meaning that when taken together I feel like I have just climbed a mountain, in Leicestershire.