Eskdale and Black Combe

Saturday 11th April 2015

A few years ago I came up with an idea of walking from Eskdale across the sprawling upland expanse of Birker Fell that stretches from Harter Fell and Eskdale all the way out to Black Combe, a two thousand foot high hill on the south-western corner of the Lake District overlooking the sea. At the time I thought it was a good idea to do this walk, so a couple of years ago I went to Eskdale and camped at the top of Harter Fell with the idea of walking along this ridge the following day, until bad weather forced me to change my plans. My plan for this holiday of walking along the watersheds in the Lake District originated from a desire to do that walk to Black Combe. After leaving the Derwent watershed my route has been dictated by a desire to end up on the watershed between the River Esk and the River Duddon on the ridge that ends on Black Combe, however the weather had intervened again, but not in the same way. Instead, it was unusually warm and sunny for the time of year and I wasn’t prepared. I had a lot of blisters on my feet that plasters were finally soothing and I bought some sun cream in Keswick to help against sunburn.

The sun cream, however, had made things considerably worse. I have now realised that I was having an allergic reaction to the sun cream and can only wonder how the week would have ended if I had not bought that brand of sun cream. My face and neck were very sore and as a result I was having trouble sleeping, so the day before this walk I had stayed out of the sun by spending the day on the local narrow-gauge railway. I still had hopes that my walk for this day could go ahead as planned, but it had rained overnight and because of a considerable drop in temperature there was now a light covering of snow on the high fells. Ultimately it was my skin problems rather than the change in weather that eventually prompted me to once again abandon my planned walk across to Black Combe. I am not sure whether this walk was ever a good idea as it sounds like it would be a really tiring walk over hills with little to interest me. Wainwright didn’t consider fellwalking territory to extend beyond Green Crag, near Harter Fell, and I should take that as a hint.

Instead I walked out of Eskdale almost reversing a walk that I did two years ago when I walked into Eskdale from Ravenglass. I set off beside the River Esk, but I could not resist the temptation, just as two years ago, to visit Stanley Gill Force. This is the loveliest waterfall in the Lake District, buried at the end of a deep, moss-covered ravine that is a delight to visit even though I found the ravine itself more interesting than the waterfall. After visiting the rock pool at the foot of the waterfall I climbed a steep path to the top of the falls and made my way out onto the open fell behind, which it occurred to me was similar to the sort of terrain that I’d originally planned to walk along. The views from this bracken-covered fell over the trees and across Eskdale to the snow-speckled high fells in the distance were quite spell-binding. The sun had come out making for yet another sunny day in the Lake District although it was now significantly colder with a brisk, cold wind coming off the sea.

Back down at the bottom of the valley beside the River Esk I took the bridlepath that I had taken two years ago and followed it to the road at Forge Bridge. Previously I had walked over Muncaster Fell, but now, for a variation, I took the bridlepath that skirts the southern slopes of the fell and found a dreary track through commercial woodland. On reaching a golf course the path turned tiringly uphill to join the fell top path at Muncaster Tarn where a gradual descent brought me to the gates of Muncaster Castle and the path that I had taken only the day before that led me all the way back through delightful woodland to Ravenglass. Since it was only lunchtime, and sunny, I thought that despite abandoning the walk over Birker Fell along the watershed I could still climb the fell at the end: Black Combe. This was an irresistible temptation for me, so I jumped onto the train to Silecroft and climbed to the top of this outlying fell so I could at least accomplish something on the last day of my holiday.

There is an excellent track that starts from the scattered hamlet of Whicham at the foot of the fell and winds its way up the hillside gorgeously easing the gradients all the way up. The cold wind did not help the climb and got worse the higher I climbed forcing me to keep my hood up despite the sunny weather. When I finally reached the trig point at the summit I headed north slightly down the other side until I got a glimpse of the Blackcombe Screes, possibly the fell's most striking feature, though not one that is visible from the summit. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really get a very good view of the screes, partly because of the strong winds, so I turned back to the summit and suddenly realised that if I had done my original plan of walking along the broad ridge all the way to Black Combe I would have had a strong, cold headwind all the way. After visiting the magnificent cairn that sits on the south top, I rejoined the clear track down with clear views out to sea ahead of me and the cold wind in my face.

Before reaching the bottom I turned off the main track and made my way to a small cairn at the top of Seaness near the most southerly point on the fell. After one last look back at the top of Black Combe I made my way back down to Whicham and to the railway station at Silecroft. This was an astonishing holiday with blue skies and sunshine every day in the Lake District, which is not something that happens very often, if ever. I could easily focus on my problems and how this holiday ended with two days that were completely different to how I’d planned, but I shouldn’t forgot how good the weather had been. I had accomplished on this holiday climbs and walks that I have wanted to do for a long time, like climbing Skiddaw and Blencathra on the same day or to walk all the way from Patterdale to Borrowdale in one day. I set myself a very challenging schedule on this holiday and despite not completing that schedule this was an awesome, astonishing week.

The La’al Ratty

Friday 10th April 2015

By the time I was nearing the end of the gruelling schedule that I had set for myself on this holiday I was a wreck. After six tiring days walking I should have found sleep easy, but the night before this walk I had a lot of difficulty getting to sleep and was astonished that I got any sleep. This was because my face and neck were very sore as a result of an allergic reaction to the sun cream that I had been using since Monday evening. However at the time I thought my problems were caused by sunburn acquired before buying the sun cream, so when Friday astonishingly dawned with more sunny weather in the Lake District, I chose to rest my blistered feet and keep my throbbing face out of the sun. My original plan for this walk had been to return up Eskdale to the col at the top of Moasdale where the previous evening I had left the watershed that I had been following. Throughout this holiday I was following the watershed between two rivers from the northern edge of the Lake District all the way down to the sea on the southern edge.

On this day my plan was for what would have been a relatively easy walk from the col between Hard Knott and the steep, grassy western slopes of Crinkle Crags. After passing over Hard Knott and down to the top of Hard Knott Pass I would have climbed up Harter Fell on the other side of the pass and eventually come back down into Eskdale from the crags near Birker Fell. That plan went in the bin as I did something completely different. With hindsight if I had done that walk I think it would have been better done in the other direction as this would have put the longer, more dreary ascents into long, relaxing descents, but that is not the direction that I was doing the watershed on this holiday, though it does still strike me as a walk that would be interesting to do and one that I may try to do at some point in the future.

Instead of walking over the fells I spent the day on the La’al Ratty, the small, narrow-gauge railway that runs from Ravenglass, on the coast, into Eskdale terminating near the village of Boot not much more than a mile from the Eskdale Youth Hostel. I have been on the little railway before; the first time was back in 1997, which was actually the first time that I had ever set foot in the Lake District. I also used the La’al Ratty in 2010 to get into Eskdale at the start of a holiday when I was too tired to walk there, and once again I have gone on the railway because I was tired. But first I had to get to the station which was more than a mile from the youth hostel that I had been staying in, and this involved a lovely walk beside the River Esk that I have done many times in the past. After walking along the road past the Woolpack Inn I reached the gorgeous River Esk at the Doctor Bridge where I followed the wonderful path to the fourteenth century Church of St Catherine’s.

At the church I followed a track onto the road near the railway station where I bought a day ticket that would allow me multiple journeys along the line, but to start I just caught the first train of the day, a diesel, to the coast. That first journey was a delight as I always enjoy being on a train and the smallness of this one brought the experience much closer and made it feel more immediate. I have been on many preserved lines in the past and I really enjoyed this one as the small train trundled past daffodils and primroses that lined the track. In Ravenglass I nipped onto the big train and got off at the first town outside of the Lake District to buy some After Sun for my sunburn before catching the train back to Ravenglass. By the time I was back to Ravenglass the weather was once again just as sunny as it had been all week and I was left pondering my next step.

I saw a sign to Walls Castle, the Roman Bath House, and decided to walk there following my steps of two years ago when I’d walked from the sea to a mountain top, from the Esk Estuary to the top of Harter Fell. I wrapped up against the sunny weather (!) and set off through the woods past the bath house towards Muncaster Castle and had a lovely walk through fabulous woodland filled with all sorts of wild flowers. I had thought about walking all the way past Muncaster Fell below the southern wooded slopes to catch the train at the far end, but I started to be concerned that I was out in the sun that I was supposed to be sheltering from. When I reached the gates of Muncaster Castle I changed my mind and headed over the hill down to the railway line at Muncaster Mill station. A large part of my thinking here was also that I’d paid for a ticket that gave me unlimited travel on the railway so I wanted to get my money’s worth, and shelter from the sun.

I caught the train to Eskdale and when the train had turned around I got back on the train and stayed on it all the way back to Ravenglass. When another steam train was put in front of the carriages in Ravenglass I got back onto the train and headed back into Eskdale. The La’al Ratty (meaning “little railway” in old Cumbrian dialect) is a delightful railway and I could have spent many a day going up and down this wonderful line that passes through such great Lakeland scenery. Eskdale is my favourite valley in the Lake District and this railway is a great way of seeing it without venturing onto the fells, but why would you not want to do that? I was thoroughly wrapped up in waterproofs and must have looked a funny sight compared with the tourists on the station in shorts and t-shirts, but my skin was in a terrible state so I needed to do something to let it recover. Ultimately this was not the right solution as my problems were caused by an allergic reaction to the sun cream and it wasn’t until I stopped putting that on my skin that I would be able to recover.

Esk Pike and Crinkle Crags

Thursday 9th April 2015

I was beginning to really suffer on this walk. I already had lots of blisters on my feet, but I was now having a bigger problem with what I thought was sunburn even though the weather was cooler than it had been earlier in the week with hazy sunshine spoiling the distant views. My face and neck were very sore and this was detracting me from my enjoyment of the walking even though I was going over some fabulous fells. I had originally planned to retrace my steps all the way back to High Raise so I could resume my walk along the Derwent watershed that I had been following all week. However, I hadn’t enjoyed the path over Greenup Edge the day before, and because I dislike retreading my steps, and in view of my sufferings, when I got to the northern end of Langstrath I turned right over the bridge and headed into the valley. This is not a valley that I have walked through very often and the last time was probably News Year’s Eve 2008 when I walked through thick cloud in the valley only to find clear blue skies when I climbed out of the valley at the far end.

Langstrath is familiar to TV viewers as it features in the opening and closing titles for BBC’s Countryfile, but that had not influenced my decision to walk up this long, but quiet, tranquil valley under blue skies. Eventually I reached the foot of Stake Pass where I could see that some major engineering work had been carried out to restore the old zigzags that snake their way up the fellside beside Stake Beck. They may be an eyesore from a distance, but they made the climb significantly easier than it would otherwise have been and for that I was thankful. At the top of the pass I finally rejoined the watershed for the River Derwent having failed to follow it from High Raise over Thunacar Knott, bypassing the Langdale Pikes, and across Martcrag Moor to Stake Pass. Since I’d left the Eden watershed the waters on the other side of the watershed that I was following have flowed into Windermere and ultimately reached the sea in the River Leven.

I now resumed my walk along the Derwent-Leven watershed across the bogs at the top of Stake Pass with the aid of an excellent path until the ground began rising towards Rossett Pike, which has an undulating ridge with many tops and the highest point is at the far end of the ridge. At any other time I may have wanted to visit each and every peak and to have explored Rossett Crag thoroughly, but on this occasion I didn’t have the energy, so after passing over Black Crags I settled for a path that bypassed all the remaining tops until I got to the end of the ridge and the top of Rossett Pike. Beyond Rossett Pike the watershed drops down to the top of Rossett Pass and climbs up the shattered crags of Hanging Knotts. There is no way for a walker to get up Hanging Knotts, so I set off along the popular bridlepath past Angle Tarn towards Esk Hause on a heavily manufactured path to the top of the pass where there is a shelter that I had never used before, but now I did, to have my lunch.

This pass, the highest point between Angle Tarn and Sty Head, is not Esk Hause, as is sometimes thought, as that pass is a short distance away on higher ground between Esk Pike and Great End. When studying the watersheds of the Lake District I came to the conclusion that Esk Hause is the centre of the Lake District in terms of the watersheds, and it is no coincidence that the highest fells, including Scafell Pike, are close by. The Derwent watershed goes over Esk Hause so I climbed up to the top of this significant pass and surveyed the awesome scenery around about me that no haze could spoil. The watershed continues over Great End to Great Gable where it turns right to pass along the northern ridge of Ennerdale over Haystacks and High Stile, but I turned back up to Esk Pike and followed the watershed back towards Hanging Knotts.

I have an odd affection for Esk Pike, and especially for the path that climbs up to it from Esk Hause. In the past I have only ever taken this path as a descent and I was overjoyed to be now taking this fabulous, craggy path up to the top of an unsung hero that is dwarfed by its bigger, more popular neighbours and was even, tragically, nameless on old Ordnance Survey maps. I always enjoy a traverse over Esk Pike, but the lift that this gave me soon passed after I’d descended to Ore Gap where I struggled up the long, stony ascent to Bow Fell. I really should have climbed to the top of Hanging Knotts since this is a junction of watersheds where the Derwent watershed parts company with the Leven watershed while the waters to my right flow into the River Esk. After spending most of this holiday following the watershed for the River Derwent I now parted company with it, but since I had wearily stayed on the main path up to Bow Fell that moment was somewhat spoilt.

I didn’t enjoy the long, tiring climb up to Bow Fell and I didn’t stay long at the summit as I followed the path down the screes to Three Tarns (where there actually were three tarns at the top of the pass). Continuing along the ridge I headed towards Crinkle Crags trying to make up for my earlier ignoring of passing tops by visiting the top of as many of the Shelter Crags and Crinkle Crags as I could. This is a thrilling ridge, so despite my weakened state I tried to make the most of this exciting ridge. Finally I reached the fourth and highest of the Crinkle Crags which was surprisingly empty of people, but I still didn’t linger as I made my way towards the Bad Step. This ten foot rock face is a notorious obstacle that had me quaking slightly as I approached it even though I usually easily climb it. The anticipation while descending a steep, craggy path to what I knew was a sheer rock wall was curiously unnerving, but in the end the actual climb was relatively straight-forward.

Wainwright recommended starting my descent into Eskdale from this point, but I elected to go over the fabulous last crag, my personal favourite on the Crinkle Crags, before turning back west towards Adam-a-Cove. Wainwright’s comment on this route down from Crinkle Crags was that it is a surprising weakness in the armour as it is on grass throughout, but also very steep. After passing a boggy area south of the crags I followed Swinesty Gill all the way down to the top of Moasdale where I left the Esk watershed and made my way down to Lingcove Beck. This I followed to its junction with the River Esk and from there I had a relaxing walk down the valley that eventually brought me to the Eskdale Youth Hostel. The weather was stunning all day on this walk even though the distant views were poor, however I was having a lot of problems. My face and neck were very sore from what I thought was sunburn, but I have since discovered it was an allergic reaction to the sun cream. This was a very tough day when my problems prevented me from enjoying the fabulous weather and some truly awesome, great mountains.

Nethermost Pike and High Raise

Wednesday 8th April 2015

At the start of this day I walked back along Grisedale taking the path on the northern side of the valley because I had walked along the other side at the end of the previous day. My aim at the start of this walk was to climb Nethermost Pike and for that I needed to branch off this path and onto a path that climbs towards Nethermost Cove. I was anticipating this junction for a long time, throughout my walk along the valley, so upon the slightest hint of a path I climbed steeply up the hillside to a stile over a wall, but this was clearly the wrong way. The latest, Walkers Edition, of Wainwright’s Pictorial Guides has detailed instructions on the location of the junction, but this was no help to me as that version of Wainwright’s guides had only just been published and I hadn’t had an opportunity to consult it. A high-level traverse through dead bracken brought me to the groove that is the path up to Nethermost Cove, and although the path seemed little used it was well-engineered with zigzags up the steep hillside to spectacular waterfalls in Nethermostcove Beck.

After crossing the stream I climbed grassy slopes to the foot of the ridge up Nethermost Pike, which is a climb that I have been hoping to do for a very long time, probably ever since I first read the Wainwright guide to the Eastern Fells. I have been thwarted on a number of occasions when I’d planned to climb the east ridge, but had to change my plans due to bad weather. That was not a problem on this walk as the good weather that I had been blessed with all week continued throughout the morning with gorgeous sunshine as I walked along the broad, grassy ridge with stunning views down Grisedale behind me and enticing views before me of the east ridge and the crags that surround Nethermost Pike drawing me on. When the gradient steepened significantly at the foot of the fearsome-looking east ridge a path appeared up the steep ridge on an exciting scramble to the top of the peak that must surely have given this fell its name.

Upon triumphantly reaching the top of the east ridge of Nethermost Pike I rejoined the Derwent-Eden watershed that I had been following throughout this holiday, however on the next fell along the ridge, Dollywaggon Pike, the watersheds for the River Derwent and the River Eden part company. The Eden watershed goes around Grisedale Tarn and up over Fairfield on its way to the Kirkstone Pass whereas the Derwent watershed descends over Willie Wife Moor to Dunmail Raise. I had decided that I was going to follow the Derwent watershed so I came off the main path and dropped steeply down Willie Wife Moor, which was really rather boggy. I didn’t fancy staying on the moor all the way down so I eventually descended to Raise Beck where I joined a clear path down to Dunmail Raise. A better route would have been to have taken the zigzags to Grisedale Tarn and from there taken the Raise Beck path all the way down to Dunmail Raise.

This was the first time that I had been on the path beside Raise Beck and although in places it seemed to be heavily manufactured, in other places it seemed to be completely disintegrating, almost as if the path had been poorly made. It is a very rough path, especially in descent, so I was relieved when it eventually brought me down to Dunmail Raise where the main road between the Northern Lakes and the Southern Lakes passes. Beyond the pass is an unrelentingly steep slope with no path and nothing of interest. This climb was a torture so that it was with great relief when I reached the top and staggered over to a nearby rock where I collapsed and after slowly recovering, I had my lunch. When I was thoroughly refreshed I made my way up to the summit of Steel Fell and from there along the ridge to Calf Crag.

While traversing along this ridge I realised that all my previous visits on this ridge had been in winter and invariably with snow on the ground. Initially it is an enjoyable, undulating ridge but eventually descends into a broad bog and an unsatisfying squelch all the way along the rest of the ridge until the ground eventually begins to rise to the popular fell of Calf Crag on the popular Helm Crag ridge. I didn’t linger at the top but turned right along the ridge following the path to the top of Far Easedale where I took the route less trodden. On my very first visit, in 2002, to the Lake District, after traversing the Helm Crag ridge in bad weather, I managed to find my way up the hillside towards High Raise. Ever since I have wanted to do that climb again in better weather and since the climb lies on the watershed I now had my opportunity. There was only a faint path, but it passes through absolutely stunning scenery made even more delectable by being rarely visited.

The gloomy, overcast skies that had come over in the afternoon failed to dampen my enthusiasm for this entrancing route up an otherwise uninteresting fell. Old fence posts lay on my route but they were too sparse to be a sure guide, but they did eventually bring me to the top of the peak marked on maps as Codale Head. Sergeant Man lay a short distance away, but I turned my eyes west following the fence posts towards High Raise. These posts led me to the track that I’d found in bad weather, in 2002, when climbing this route for the first time. On that occasion I’d turned left towards Sergeant Man, but now I turned right and walked all the way up to the broad top of High Raise. There I left the watershed behind and headed north past Low White Stones on poorly maintained paths to Greenup Edge, where an even worse path crossed the pass. The only time that I had previously been across the deceptively named Greenup Edge was New Year’s Eve 2012, in bad weather, but even in better weather the boggy plateau was not a pleasure to cross.

At Lining Crag a better path appeared, but by then I’d already had enough and didn’t enjoy my walk down the path to Borrowdale, even though I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t enjoying the descent. The walk down from Greenup Edge seemed to go on for a long time so it gave me plenty of time to reflect on this walk. Even though I had accomplished two long desired climbs I felt dissatisfied. The climb up Nethermost Pike wasn’t as good as the long wait had demanded with the only really good bit being on the short, sharp east ridge. The weather had deteriorated, but that hadn’t prevented me from enjoying the climb up from Far Easedale Head, though the distant views were now hazy. I may not be keen on climbing the east ridge of Nethermost Pike again, but I would definitely want to explore the uncharted territory east of High Raise again. After this tough, tiring walk maybe it was the eight blisters that I counted on my feet that was the actual cause of my problems.

The Helvellyn Range

Tuesday 7th April 2015

I started this walk in the same way that I had ended the previous day's walk, which was on the excellent Keswick Railway Footpath through gorgeous woodland scenery beside the River Greta. However, my mind was troubled as I had been really tired when I got to the youth hostel the day before, I was completely drained of energy, my legs were really aching and my feet were suffering from blisters. I didn’t feel much better in the morning as I left the youth hostel, still drained of energy despite a good breakfast, so I was reconsidering my plans for the day as I was walking along the footpath. When planning this day’s walk I’d calculated that this would the longest, toughest day of the whole week. On reaching the last bridge over the river before Threlkeld I took a path to the right that follows the riverbank under the main road to Threlkeld Bridge on the old road. I had noticed this path the day before and wondered where it went, but in fact this path is marked on OS maps, I just wasn’t using them on this holiday.

Beyond Threlkeld Bridge the Keswick Railway Footpath continues away from the River Greta, but I had never been on this section before having only previously used the footpath to go between Threlkeld and Keswick, however the surroundings were now less interesting as it passes farmland, a depot for the National Park and a mining museum. Just before reaching a golf course the footpath ends though I could see a digger in the distance that I thought could be clearing the route of the old railway for an extension to the Keswick Railway Footpath. The footpath had ended at just the right place for me, so I climbed over the old railway and onto the open pasture where a prolonged ascent up the grassy slope eventually brought me to Hausewell Brow on the Old Coach Road. A cold wind was blowing as I climbed prompting me keep my cagoule on despite the sunshine and was a hint of the weather to come.

My plan had been to walk along the Old Coach Road for a considerable way until I reached the bridge over Groove Beck and there climb onto the ridge over High Brow in order to rejoin the Derwent-Eden watershed that I had been following throughout this holiday and follow this ridge all the way up to the top of Great Dodd. Since Mungrisdale, the watershed had been following a low, indeterminate course  with little or no public access and I was feeling so tired I felt no compunction about postponing my reunion with it so I could take a more natural, easier route to Great Dodd. When I reached the highest point on the road, near Hause Well, I turned up the steep, grassy slope towards Clough Head. I came down by this route many years ago but I’ve never made an ascent, and it is much better as a descent with the only point of interest on the ascent being the outcrop, White Pike.

By the time I reached these rocks the weather had turned cloudier with hazy distant views and a strong, cold wind. When I reached Clough Head I got out my gloves and other warm clothing against the cold wind with the hot, sunny weather of the Easter weekend now a distant memory. Wrapped up against the cold weather I made my way along the ridge making a point to stop at the delightful collection of rocks known as Calfhow Pike on the way before climbing the long, steep slopes of Great Dodd while the wind blew a gale across the top. This was not a place that you would want to linger at, however as at many fells in the Lake District there is a shelter, a wind break constructed of large stones, at the summit, so I collapsed behind this and had my lunch. Despite the poor weather I was enjoying being up there and actually thought that this was somehow more appropriate weather for the top of a mountain.

Setting off again I followed the ridge, and the watershed between the River Derwent and the River Eden, stopping off at the top of Watson’s Dodd and Stybarrow Dodd before passing over Sticks Pass and climbing a clearly manufactured path up to the gloriously rock-covered summit of Raise. After the grassy domes on the Dodds, the top of Raise was a welcome sight and the delights continued as I passed over White Side and climbed a narrow, craggy ridge to the top of Lower Man. As I was climbing this ridge I noticed that the cold wind seemed to be dying down, which I at first assumed was because I was in the shelter of Helvellyn, however I was pleasantly surprised to find very little wind when I reached the top of Lower Man or as I crossed the short distance to the top of the ever popular Helvellyn. The sun had continued shining for most of the day, but with the cold wind now gone the prospect for the rest of the day was very good.

While writing on this blog a couple of months ago I realised that it was nine years since I’d last been along Striding Edge so at that point I decided that at this point I would come off the Helvellyn Range and descend along Striding Edge. However, when I got to the start of Striding Edge I found a bank of snow blocking the entrance so prudently decided not to attempt the traverse, and instead continued along the Helvellyn Range. This proved to be an inspired decision as I had an enormously satisfying time as the weather got even better and the views improved even more with stunning sights to be seen back towards Helvellyn and along the ridge towards Fairfield and St Sunday Crag. The Helvellyn Range is a massive ridge that consistently maintains a height of over two and a half thousand feet almost all the way from Great Dodd to Dollywaggon Pike. I had never walked along its entire length before now and I was thrilled to be finally completing the traverse of what Wainwright described as the greatest area of high fells in Lakeland.

I stopped at every cairn and every top that I could see on the ridge rarely walking along the main path which bypasses each and every one on its single-minded course to Helvellyn. The views from Dollywaggon Pike, at the end of the range, are without doubt the best and I lingered there long before finally following the path down the steep, heavily manufactured zigzags all the way down to Grisedale Tarn. This well-made path was a sure guide to the tarn and the path from the tarn into Grisedale was even better as it passed through stunningly awesome rock scenery. This is an excellent path that I’ve enjoyed every time I’ve been on it, no matter the weather, with high crags above and a thrilling, rock-strewn route under my feet that had me jumping and skipping all the way down. After passing Ruthwaite Lodge I elected to take the path on the southern side of Grisedale that would take me all the way to the youth hostel in Patterdale.

After my weary start to the day this walk ended tremendously with all thoughts of fatigue gone from my mind. The weather played a big part in this with reassuringly typical mountain weather, cold and windy, for most of my walk along the Helvellyn Range. When I did get warm, sunny weather, south of Helvellyn I embraced it whole-heartedly and all my aches and pains disappeared. Near the end of this walk someone on the radio that I was listening to asked: “How would you spend today if you knew tomorrow was the end of the world?” My answer to that was unequivocally that I would be doing exactly what I was doing: walking in the Lake District along the Helvellyn Range.