West Highland Way: Bridge of Orchy to Crianlarich

Thursday 21st May 2026

Having walked along the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way over the previous three days, it would make sense for me to continue heading north by crossing Loch Lomond and heading up the West Highland Way, but the weather was so poor this day I didn’t feel like doing that, and so I felt the following section heading north from Crianlarich was the only possible alternative. During my planning for this holiday any part of the West Highland Way had lacked appeal for me and I had eventually decided to spend a couple of days in Crianlarich climbing the mountains in the area, ignoring my original intention for this holiday, but the bad weather forced me back into walking along the West Highland Way, despite its familiarity, as it was my only option. I was most recently in Crianlarich in 2022 when I had also planned to climb some of the mountains in the area, but bad weather on that occasion forced me again into walking along the West Highland Way going all the way to Fort William, so for a bit of a change on this occasion I decided I would catch a train to Bridge of Orchy and walk back to Crianlarich. It was also better for me to do it this way so I was not rushing to catch a schedule, though the timetable was not helpful as the train from Bridge of Orchy leaves at one pm or seven pm with nothing in between. There are only a few trains on the West Highland Line and the train in the morning was not until 10.21, so it was already mid-morning when I eventually arrived in Bridge of Orchy and headed south along the West Highland Way.

The vast majority of people walking the West Highland Way head north to keep the prevailing wind to their backs and, since Bridge of Orchy is on the fifth stage of the trail, those who had started the trail the previous weekend were now coming towards me. The West Highland Way is a very popular trail and it seemed like I passed hundreds of people just on this initial section below the steep slopes of Beinn Dòrain that leads all the way to Gleann Achadh-innis Chalein. The weather was not too bad at this point with hardly any rain, it was just misty and soon I began to get hot in my waterproofs, which showed a change in the weather. It had been quite cold at the start of my holiday, but now a heatwave was developing over England, which was bringing warm, moist air over Scotland, hence the bad weather. I attempted a few things to cool down, such as unzipping and then eventually removing my cagoule, while leaving on my poncho to keep me dry. It also helps enormously to take your hood down as a hood will prevent a lot of heat from escaping, and so I adopted a wide-brimmed hat to keep me dry. These measures succeeded in keeping me cool as I continued along the trail, over the Allt Kinglass river and beside the railway line, enjoyably disengaging my brain while quietly making my way along the wide path until I eventually entered Tyndrum. The path narrowed beyond, becoming difficult to find in places and then entered the Tyndrum Community Woodland as it began to rain more heavily. The path was now so narrow that whenever people were coming towards me I had to get completely off the path to let them pass, which happened often, so was not easy.

Eventually the heather moorland passed and the path widened, through woodland beside the River Cononish, passing underneath the railway line and main road. As I crossed Strath Fillian the rain now fell even more heavily, while passing the ruins of St Fillian’s Priory and back across the valley, over the river and across the main road and railway line again. As the terrain steepened, the path became rough passing a felled conifer plantation that afforded me with misty views across the valley, which in better weather would have included Ben More, a mountain that I had planned to walk up if the weather had been better, but now I couldn’t even see it. While the trail took me into more mature conifer woodland, I just wanted the rain to stop or for me to get back to Crianlarich, which never seemed to happen until eventually the rain eased and I reached the junction where the West Highland Way makes a sharp turn to the right while Crianlarich was straight ahead descending under the bypass to finally bring me back to the youth hostel. This was a disappointing day when I had hoped to be able to go up some of the mountains that I had last visited twenty years ago, but instead I walked along the West Highland Way, which I had last done just four years ago and while the walking in the morning was quite pleasant, the afternoon’s walking in the heavy rain was not at all enjoyable.

Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, day three

Wednesday 20th May 2026

It was still raining. The previous day I had spent the whole day walking in the rain along the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way from Glendaruel to a wild camp on the pass Bealach an Lochain and the following morning it was still raining, so after breaking camp I set off along the trail past the lake Curra Lochain between the fabulous crags that are either side of the pass on the side of the mountains Beinn Lochain and Beinn Bhuela. Despite the poor, misty weather conditions there were geese on the lake, honking at me as I passed while my path under foot was excellent and dry, but this wasn’t the case beyond the lake, where the path was very boggy, which continued on the descent into a conifer plantation. It is very difficult to keep a grip on a wet, muddy path that is descending steeply, though not so in ascent. I very carefully made my way down, almost slipping over at one point, so I was relieved when I finally reached the wide forestry track at the bottom that took me over the Lettermay Burn. While looking back now, I was able to see the waterfalls on the burn Sruth Bàn, which I must have walked past on my descent but been too preoccupied with staying upright to notice, while the two mountains either side of the pass looked even more impressive from further away, even in the misty conditions due to their abundance of visible rock. My descent continued down forestry tracks until I eventually reached the road around the head of Loch Goil where holiday homes dominated the coastline while the rain finally eased with the weather slowly improving.

Lochgoilhead seemed like a magical place to spend your holiday because it is quiet, out of the way, a difficult place to get to, so would hopefully not be too overrun with tourists, but maybe if I had been there in better weather I would have seen what it is really like. A narrow lane hugged the coast between the loch and a caravan park before reaching the River Goil where I had to follow this upstream for a distance before finding a bridge. At high tide, I would need to have kept to the road, but that was not necessary so after crossing the bridge I followed the coast into the centre of the village where unfortunately I didn’t stop, but turned left up a lane that steepened to reach an area of rhododendrons. After turning left, a wide, gently rising path took me pleasantly into a conifer plantation, leading me to a dramatic landscape at a crossing of the Allt Airigh na Creige with many waterfalls at its meeting with the Donich Water. I lingered there, taking a few pictures, before continuing to climb through the trees, which became increasingly steep as I toiled up an ascent reminiscent of many I have done in the past. The path zigzagged ingeniously beside a stream until eventually, after leaving the plantation behind, the path became less distinct and boggier with my route guided by white painted posts. During my frequent stops for a breath I now had views over the trees towards the hills the other side of Loch Goil and in the improving weather they looked spectacular, basking in the sunshine that had now come out.

The relentless climb eventually eased and I came to the top of the pass, which is the highest on the whole trail. North of the pass was the Brack, which I had previously climbed in 2022 from this point, so when I began to descend into Coilessan Glen I was retracing my steps of four years ago. Many of the trees I had passed on that occasion had now been felled leaving a desolate wasteland that caused me a few difficulties. Once the steep descent had ended I found my way blocked by young trees, which either crowded out my path or had fallen across it, so when I was once more back on forestry tracks my route down became a lot easier, eventually leading me to a road. I was now near Loch Long, heading north with the sun finally making an appearance, which prompted me to take off all my waterproofs. The contrast in this day was quite remarkable with rain at the start of the day, but now, with all my waterproofs folded up in my rucksack, I was enjoying the sunshine. After a while I came to a path that branched off the road and led me down to the shore of Loch Long heading towards the impressive Ardgarton Hotel, turning left before then to pass a fabulous bank of bluebells.

As great as the sight of the bluebells was, I couldn’t help feeling a bit blasé about them since I had been seeing many of them for over a month and at home they had gone to seed a long time ago. Even just on this holiday I had been seeing bluebells every day, so it was becoming nothing special, which is a shame because bluebells are always a wonderful sight. Eventually I reached the car park in Glen Croe where the trail took me across the busy A83 trunk road and along an excellent path that weaved across the hillside slowly gaining height past fabulous vegetation until I eventually reached a conifer plantation and joined a forestry track. This track led me to a radio mast where a wide, gravel path zigzagged back down to the A83 and the shore of Loch Long, where I rounded the head to reach the village of Arrochar. From this point the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way heads north through Glen Loin to reach Loch Lomond at Inveruglas where there used to be a ferry to take you across Loch Lomond, but since this no longer runs there is no point. Instead, I considered the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way complete at this point so, after having some fish & chips, I headed through the woods above the village, surrounded by bluebells, to get to the railway station of Arrochar & Tarbet. There was a lot of road walking on this trail, though it passes through some beautiful countryside or it would have been if I’d been able to see more of it, without the weather interfering. My main problem with the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way is that it is too short, but for me it was only a good start to much more walking to come.

Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, day two

Tuesday 19th May 2026

I had a lovely evening before this walk at the Glendaruel Caravan & Camping Park where it was dry and sunny, the birds were singing loudly and there were excellent facilities. However, it started to rain over night and the following morning it was just grey and miserable with persistent rain forecast, though when I set off it was hardly raining, not heavy enough to hear the drops on an umbrella or a waterproof coat, so I had a relatively enjoyable start to my second day on the Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, but it wasn’t long before it started to rain again. My walk started on the narrow roads through the valley of Glendaruel which was enlivened by many bluebells growing beside the road, as well as the white flowers of wild garlic and three-cornered garlic. 

Eventually I reached the main road where I turned south, heading back down the valley, but soon I branched off the road, passing an unwelcoming farm and onto a track that provided me with the first prolonged climb of the trail. This took me up the valley of Garvie Burn and into Strath nan Lùb, past some cattle and into the driving rain. Occasionally the rain eased to a light drizzle, which afforded me with the opportunity to put my hood down and reflect that the best part about walking in the rain is when it stops. The rain eased as the morning progressed and I slowly dragged myself and my heavy rucksack up the seemingly unending track, climbing into the mist until eventually I summited the pass, the second highest on the trail, and began to descend steeply. 

I had now entered the Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park, though this was completely missed by me as I descended into a conifer plantation. My guidebook indicated that I needed to turn sharp left after a series of bends whereas the green diamond markings on my Ordnance Survey map would have had me taking the second turning on the left. I thought I’d seek a third opinion so I consulted the walkhighlands website which agreed with my guidebook so when I reached the sharp left I took the signposted green lane which was carpeted with wood sorrel. This brought me to a fabulous gorge where the Allt Robuic burn cascades down a series of waterfalls whose stunning sight drew my eye away from the bluebells that decorated the sides of the valley. 

As the rain fell again an excellent footpath took me past the falls and along the northern bank, weaving around the contours, over wooden bridges and with protective fences above the steep gorge. Eventually a flight of steps brought me to a washed away bridge, which my Ordnance Survey map would have taken me over. Since I couldn’t turn right, I turned left and followed a wide track that led me into Glenbranter where I eventually found a wooden shelter to escape the rain and have my lunch. When I emerged the rain had stopped, or at least eased, but it was never far away and was soon back. A tedious walk followed along a quiet lane, and once the bluebells of Glenbranter had been left behind there was nothing for me to see. Eventually I reached the outskirts of Strachur, where I crossed the main road and headed up an access road. 

With no accommodation available for me in Strachur, despite wanting to stop due to the bad weather, I had to keep going and find somewhere to wild camp, so I slowly headed up the road alongside the River Cùr past more bluebells as the rain fell heavily again. After crossing the river a good path took me up to a forestry track which led me into the side valley of the Leavanin burn with conifers covering the slopes on my side, though many areas had been felled providing me with views up the valley through the rain. I kept thinking about where I could possibly camp, but with nowhere to camp on the tussocky ground of the conifer plantation, I had to just keep going. After a left turn my path narrowed, crossing many streams with water rushing down the hillside until eventually I reached a crossing of the main burn and a short climb that brought me to the edge of the forestry land where I finally stopped to pitch up my tent.

This is one of those days that make me wonder why I spend my holidays walking in wet Scotland, but if the weather had been better perhaps I would have had my answer. However, much of this day was spent walking on roads or wide forestry tracks that are never appealing, though at least I would have had views of the surrounding mountains which I was deprived of on this walk due to the weather.

Loch Lomond & Cowal Way, day one

Monday 18th May 2026

Last year I walked the Cambrian Way across Wales from Cardiff to Conwy and I found it to be thoroughly enjoyable, so soon after I finished the trail I was thinking, firstly about whether I could do the Cambrian Way again, and secondly, before doing that, whether I could find something similar in the Highlands of Scotland. Throughout the rest of last year I tried to devise a trail in Scotland that would have the same appeal as the Cambrian Way. This was not easy because the Highlands of Scotland is a very different landscape to Wales since it is much bigger and there are very few footpaths in comparison. However, very early in the planning process I came across the Loch Lomond & Cowal Way and I decided that this should form the foundation or backbone of my trail across the West Highlands. I had considered starting on either the Isle of Bute or on Arran, but eventually I decided that I would start my trail across the West Highlands at the start of the Cowal Way, so I had spent the weekend in the pretty village of Tarbert and then, at the start of this day, a ferry brought me across Loch Fyne to Portavadie and the start of the trail. The sun was shining when I set off from the port, even though the forecast for the rest of the week was not so fortunate, so I was happy to have sunshine at this time. 

The trail soon branched off the access road to climb a track through woodland sprinkled with bluebells and gorse before turning onto a narrow footpath that continued to climb until I reached a clearing where I had views back across Loch Fyne. The descent brought me to the ruins of a castle, around Asgog Loch and past the sheep at the head of the loch to reach a road, which took me past the remains of a gunpowder works. Soon I was climbing again on a green lane lined with gorse with striking views back to the low-lying hills behind me and once I was at the top of the low pass there were views ahead of me towards the channel which separates the Isle of Bute from the mainland, known as the Kyles of Bute. First I had to negotiate a golf course, which was quickly done and soon I was walking along a green lane, lined with gorgeous displays of bluebells looking fabulous in the sunshine. Before too long, I reached the shore of the Kyles of Bute where the views across to Bute compensated for now having to simply walk beside the road for a long time through the villages of Kames and Tighnabruaich. Even though the mountains of Arran later appeared to the south, I was more interested in the view north where the channel narrowed and the clouds seemed darker and more ominous.

Slowly, I made my way along the road, beside the loch until eventually the public road came to an end and I continued on a private estate road plunging into woodland littered with rhododendrons. A climb brought me to a waterfall and back done at the shore I passed Caladh Harbour and eventually reached the end of the road beside some cottages. At low tide I could have proceeded from there along the beach, but since the tide was high I had no choice but to make my way along a tortuous route through the overgrown rhododendrons between cliffs and the shores of Loch Riddon. This could have been an exciting traverse, but the ground was so wet and complex it could never be considered enjoyable, so I was relieved when after a very slow mile I eventually reached a house whose access road provided me with much easier walking. I had gotten very hot straining along that difficult path with hardly any respite, though one had afforded me with views through the rhododendrons back towards the Isle of Bute. When I was finally back on a road I was able to cool off while continuing to walk beside the loch and enjoy the views across the water.

An extended section of road walking now followed as I reached the A8003 road and walked beside that for a while until eventually, before the road crossed the River Ruel, I branched off to follow a track beside the river that brought me to a minor road. This took me over the historic two-arched Telford Bridge over the River Ruel and onto the A886 road, which I soon came off to take a lane that led me through the Clachan of Glendaruel. Here, there was a medieval church with some carved stones from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in a separate building, which I did have a look at, but I don’t think my life is any different for having seen them or for going inside the church. Back on the road I followed that through the valley of Glendaruel until eventually I reached a caravan park and campsite where I spent a lovely evening and the night. This was a long walk, possibly a bit too long for the first day on the trail, but it was rather easy with very little climbing, especially once I reached the shore of the Kyles of Bute. My rucksack felt very heavy and I was certainly carrying more food than I really needed. The highlight of the walk was not the rough section of footpath as this was too wet and slippery, and instead I think it was the sunny weather, which, though not spectacular, judging by the poor weather forecast was fabulous in comparison to what was to come.

Around Tarbert

Sunday 17th May 2026

Whenever I come to Scotland, it is common practice for me to spend the first day settling in, acclimatising and doing an easy walk before starting the main goal of my holiday a day or two later. For example, in 2022 I stayed in Stirling over the first weekend of my holiday before moving to the West Highlands and now, since I was going to be walking in an area I had not been in before, this would give me the opportunity to explore and get to know the area before setting off on my planned long distance trail. The place I found myself in was Tarbert on Loch Fyne, which I had arrived at on the previous evening after a three hour journey on the Citylink bus from Glasgow and the poor weather that had greeted me on arrival continued the following morning as I waited for the café to open for breakfast. I took the opportunity to walk around the harbour, but I didn’t go far since it was raining. However, by the time I came out of the café the clouds had begun to break revealing gorgeous blue skies over the pretty little village, so I grabbed my rucksack and set off up to the castle. At home, the bluebells were going to seed, but up here in Scotland they had decorated the side of the road throughout my journey on the bus and now bluebells could be seen on the hillside near Tarbert Castle. 

After wandering around the castle while admiring the view I set off along the course of the Kintyre Way, which usually starts in Tarbert, and I had considered taking. My planning for this holiday was extensive and long, taking many months looking into many options, including walking along the Kintyre Way, but this was eventually rejected, though, since I was in Tarbert I thought I’d have a taste of the trail and walk along the first few miles. A wonderful footpath took me through the community woodland and into moorland past a scattering of various trees before reaching a wide forestry track which soon led me into a conifer plantation, which, as far as I can determine, is largely how the Kintyre Way continues for most of the trail and why I didn’t want to do it. A way marked trail, called the Corranbuie Trail, marked with blue ringed posts, would have brought me back down to Tarbert if I had turned right, but I decided to stay on the Kintyre Way for a while longer so I turned left and followed the track into the conifer plantation steadily climbing the hill. The problem I have with walking on forestry tracks is that they are too wide and even to be enjoyable, and the tall conifers block the views, and it is the views from the top of a hill that really make a walk.  

 

On the occasions when I did have a view beyond the trees I could see across Loch Fyne and that it was clearly raining further north, which I was happily missing out on. Clouds would pass overhead but not drop their rain until further inland, so I was able to enjoy a pleasant stroll, though tedious, along the track. I just had to decide how far along the Kintyre Way I would be walking before turning back. It would have been great if I could have done the whole first stage of the trail before catching a bus back to Tarbert, but they don’t run on a Sunday, so I would need to retrace my steps. I had planned on going as far as a bridge over the Allt Càrn Chaluim burn taking a track that climbs back up to the highest point on the stage (and almost of the whole trail) before descending back into Tarbert. In the end, when I got to the highest point, out of the trees, amongst the moorland beside Cruach Doire Lèithe, I decided to turn back at this point and not waste the effort. One thing I liked about the Kintyre Way was that there were marker posts for every mile, showing how far you have travelled and the point where I turned back was just after the four mile post. It had been cold and overcast at the top but the sun soon came out again and this made for an enjoyable descent with more extensive views than earlier when rain had obscured the head of the loch.

At a picnic table I stopped for lunch, to enjoy the sunshine and the views across Loch Fyne, but while eating it started to rain heavily, prompting me to a hastily don my waterproofs, but by the time they were all on it had stopped raining. Slowly, I continued to descend along the Kintyre Way until I reached the point where the trail turns right off the track and there I followed the blue marked posts of the Corranbuie Trail, turning right at a second path, which descended interestingly through similar terrain to the earlier ascent and eventually brought me back to Tarbert. Since it was still early in the afternoon I took the opportunity to explore more of the area around the charming, little port using a walk listed on the walkhighlands website called White Shores, which took me to the northern side of the harbour. The weather was now fantastic and provided me with stunning views back towards the village before plunging into woodland along a footpath that led me to Port Bàn where it was the wild flowers inland that most caught my eye including bluebells and wild garlic. 

 

Exploring the many branching footpaths brought me past more of the lovely bluebells until eventually I returned to my outward path and back to Tarbert where I continued to explore, heading towards West Loch Tarbert and back to the castle, but the best of the day had passed. I enjoyed my aimless, relaxed wandering on this day with no demands on my attention while the sun shone all afternoon so that now I look back on the time I spent in Tarbert at the start of my holiday with much fondness.

Groudle Glen and Bradda Head

Friday 10th April 2026

On the last day of my holiday, with bad weather approaching, I thought I would adopt the plan that I had formulated for my first day on the Isle of Man, but not used, which explores the wooded glens to the north of the capital city, Douglas, so I set off along the Raad ny Foillan, the coastal footpath. After passing the southern terminus of the Electric Railway, I branched off the main road onto Seacliff Road around Onchan Head and before returning to the main road took to a path that branched down into a pretty, little harbour, thinking there would be a path out on the other side; there wasn’t. It was a great, lovely path, decorated with many wild flowers, but eventually I had to retrace my steps all the way back up and onto the main road. The coastal footpath continued beyond the harbour on a path that skirted the narrow gap between the sea cliffs and the back gardens of people’s houses, and was lined with flowers that had escaped those gardens including three-cornered garlic and Spanish bluebells. Back on the main road, I followed that past building work on my right and into Groudle Glen, which I had been in last year, but I had no hesitation in returning to a fabulous wooded valley that I once again found entrancing. Wood anemones decorated the banks of the stream of beautiful Groudle Glen, with bluebells just beginning to appear, as I slowly wandered along the path absorbing the tranquil surroundings while taking many pictures.

As the sun went in, I continued up the glen, which narrowed past a waterwheel and under a bridge with more wild flowers decorating the banks as I made my way along the excellent, well-made footpath eventually reaching a wider area where the river does a dramatic meander with woodland plants covering the floor, until finally I passed under White Bridge and into Molly Quirk’s Glen. Soon, I crossed the Groudle River and took to a path that climbed beside the road and is called the Bibaloe Walk. I had not taken this path before, but there was not much to see, just a few primroses, and soon I emerged onto the road. I had planned on retracing my steps into the valley, but now that I was there I decided to take a footpath that crosses several grassy fields and brought me to a minor road where I descended increasingly steeply into Molly Quirk’s Glen. When I had reached this end of the valley last year I had been confronted with a sign that the path through the glen was closed due to fallen trees, but now much work had been carried out and I was able to follow the path beside the small river through the glen, which was a lovely place, but possibly not up to the stupendously high standards of Groudle Glen, or some of the other valleys that I had seen on this holiday. Eventually I returned to White Bridge where I followed the road through Onchan and back onto the promenade in Douglas.

Despite the weather forecast, the sun was out again, which provided me with a pleasant walk around the bay until I reached the ferry terminal where I booked an earlier service for the next day, due to the coming bad weather over the weekend, and then made my way to the steam railway station. I was mindful of the fact that I was soon going to be leaving the Isle of Man and I hadn’t visited Port Erin, at the far end of the steam railway, so I caught the train and by the time I reached my destination the promised bad weather was finally becoming apparent, though it wasn’t raining yet. A tower sits on Bradda Head, to the north of Port Erin Bay, and when I was there last year I had been short of time so I hadn’t taken the opportunity to visit the tower. Now, I thought I would have time to do so, though I would have to rush so I could catch the train back to Douglas, so I hurried through the streets of Port Erin and through an archway marked Bradda Glen, across the hillside north of the bay past many wild flowers and onto the open hill to reach Milner’s Tower. Immediately, I set off up the spiral staircase to the top of the tower where I took some pictures under the overcast skies, before heading back down and along the road to reach the railway station in Port Erin.

This was a disjointed day, starting with a shortened version of the walk that I had initially planned for the previous Sunday followed by an excursion on the steam train interspersed by a hurried dash up Bradda Head. The weather for my holiday this year on the Isle of Man was not great, certainly not as good as it had been the previous year, and the wild flower mix seen this year was different, mainly because of being three weeks earlier. The Isle of Man is such a fabulous place for walking that arguably I need to go back again some time. I have loved walking through the wooded glens, which are filled with stunning displays of wild flowers and I’m sure there are more for me to see, and with more of the coastal path still to walk, I’m sure I will be drawn back to the Isle of Man eventually.

The Steam Heritage Trail

Thursday 9th April 2026

My knee started to hurt on the previous day’s walk. I don’t know what I had done to aggravate it because it started to hurt as soon as I started the walk and it just got worse as the day progressed. At the start of this walk my knee was feeling stiff and ideally I should have been resting it, but I find that difficult to do when I’m on holiday and the only thing I want to do is walk. Since the weather had deteriorated I felt that I could rest it by doing a relatively easy walk by walking along the Steam Heritage Trail, which runs along the course of an old railway that used to run between the city of Douglas, on the Isle of Man, and the town of Peel. I wanted to do this trail when I first came to the Isle of Man last year, but I felt it was too easy when there are many more exciting walks to do on this wondrous island. Now, with the poor weather and my dodgy knee, I thought this would be the best time to do it, so with drizzle in the air I made my way through Douglas from my accommodation to Quarter Bridge where I joined the start of the trial, which initially runs along a tarmac road alongside the busy main road. After I left the road, plunging into gorgeous woodland surroundings, wild garlic dominated the scene, though it wasn’t in flower yet, unlike at Easter last year. Wood anemones could also be seen and at Union Mills I could see some early flowering bluebells, as well as primroses and celandines.

The trail never strayed far from the River Dhoo and the best displays were often on its banks. Soon, the rain cleared and after passing Glen Vine blue sky appeared ahead of me, however, it wasn’t to last. Walking along an old railway line soon gets monotonous as there is little change in the view and the gradient is flat, which was helping my knee, but was tedious to walk upon. With nothing to interest me I just disengaged my brain and kept repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other, appreciating the wild scenery as it passed. Between Crosby and Greeba the ground by the side of the path was very water-logged, marshy, which helped the growth of marsh marigold whose bright, yellow flowers provided a welcome decoration. After passing St Johns, soon after passing over the River Neb, I branched right off the trail, despite having several more miles to go into Peel, to follow the course of the old railway line that used to run up the coast, around the hills and eventually reach the town of Ramsey. The Steam Heritage Trail had kept to the low ground between the hills in the north of the island and those to the south, largely running beside rivers and had a good hard surface underfoot, suitable for cycles. 

This path was very different, being grassy and passed through hillier terrain, dominated by farmland. It was lined by hawthorn and gorse and more railway engineering was required on this branch with cuttings and embankments often encountered as the old railway cut through the undulating farmland. Eventually I was joined by the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, but despite the proximity of the sea the scenery wasn’t much better as the rain fell again, albeit briefly, until eventually I reached Glen Mooar where the railway used to cross the deep valley on an impressive viaduct, but this has sadly gone with just the tall, stone pillars remaining in remembrance. I wanted to explore the valley so instead of following the coastal path onto the beach I turned inland on a path that took me through gorgeous woodland, though my knees screamed at having to climb the side of the valley. Even though the woodland floor was filled with many green plants, none of the wild flowers were actually flowering, though I’m sure they were a few short weeks later. At the top of the path I could hear a noisy waterfall and a path led me steeply down to the foot of Spooyt Vane in its stunning woodland surround. After taking a few pictures I climbed back up the steep path, doing everything I could to ease the pressure on my knees, until I reached a lane that took me out of the valley and back onto the course of the railway. 

Soon, I reached another valley, Glen Wyllin, where a steep descent brought me down to the banks of the river and a caravan park where I found a path that led me back up the side of the valley, firing up my glutes on the steep ascent. The path continued into Cooildarry Nature Reserve, which was a great valley filled with many wondrous delights, enlivened by the sun coming out at just this moment. Unfortunately I felt I needed to rush to catch a bus so I didn't linger, walking briskly through the fabulous scenery until I finally climbed out of the valley and onto the road just outside Kirk Michael. These two valleys were a treat after my long walk along the old railway line and, apart from a few complaints in the glens at the end, my knees were quiet. Despite poor weather for most of the day I was able to do a great walk through some fabulous wild scenery.

Slieau Freoghane and the Millennium Way

Wednesday 8th April 2026

The forecast for this day was for a significant easing of the strong, cold winds that had afflicted me so far, this Easter, on the Isle of Man, so I was keen to take advantage by staying up high in the hills for as long as possible. Therefore, I decided to follow part of the Millennium Way, which was created to celebrate the one thousandth anniversary of the Isle of Man parliament in 1979. On the previous day I had walked along the first couple of miles of the trail through Silverdale Glen, before leaving it to its tedious course along the minor B35 road. I now picked it up again in the small village of Crosby as it began to climb towards the hills in the northern half of the Manx island. However, when the Millennium Way began to descend into the valley of West Baldwin I kept climbing following a track that took me into the hills across the eastern slopes of Slieau Ruy. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky when I got up in the city of Douglas but tragically it had now clouded over, though the winds were gentle, as promised. I still enjoyed the walk, despite the poor views, rejoicing in the light winds, and relished the climb even when I missed a turning and had to cross the heather-covered, pathless slopes to get back on the clear path. I walked briskly, devouring the miles, passing the slight rise of Lhargee Ruy on the northern ridge of Slieau Ruy, past two cairns and across the western slopes of Colden.

At the col with Slieau Maggle I came onto a clear track that helped me up my pace even more until I reached a minor road where a rocky path climbed beside a plantation before the gradient eased and I finally branched off the track to reach the summit of Slieau Freoghane, which is the highest point in this range of hills, but the most surprising feature of this hill is that the summit is adorned with a trig point, a cairn and a bell, erected on a short pole. I gave this a gentle ring and took a few pictures before setting off along the ridge to rejoin the track where I actually turned right to head back the way I’d come, before turning sharp right to turn north again and continue along the eastern side of the ridge passing Slieau Dhoo. The grey, overcast skies now began to clear revealing blue skies and the sun, which was most unexpected, but welcome, while a dark cloud lingered over Snaefell with Sulby Reservoir in the valley between. In the sunshine, this was fabulous walking, so I was enjoying myself immensely until eventually I reached a road where I soon turned right onto a track with views ahead of me towards Snaefell while I descended, increasingly steeply, into a conifer plantation, which was painful, not just in my knees, but also in the knowledge that I would have to climb back up again.

When I reached the bottom of Sulby Glen I discovered that the path I wanted to take up Tholt-y-Will Glen was closed, which was really frustrating as I had deliberately come all this way instead of sticking to the Millennium Way just so I could take this walk through the wooded valley. I considered climbing over the locked gate, but prudently turned around and walked up the road past Sulby Reservoir. It was distressing for me to see dozens of discarded cans and bottles beside the road, as I can’t imagine how anyone could be so thoughtless as to toss these things from their cars. The sunshine had proved to be short-lived with Snaefell, ahead of me, now hiding within the clouds as I slowly climbed up the road until I reached the Millennium Way, which, while I had been elsewhere, had climbed out of West Baldwin and crossed between the hills of Carraghan and Beinn-y-Phott. Looking south I could not see any sign of the path but a clear track headed north, though it wasn’t long before it branched off to cross the slopes of Snaefell, as the skies brightened again, on a vague, often muddy path. I was disappointed by the lack of investment in maintaining the footpath of the Millennium Way, which indicates that it doesn’t get many people walking on it, and at least then it would be clearer.

The ground became increasingly wet with the path difficult to follow as I descended into a valley and was even more so as I climbed back out. When I reached the top of a broad saddle I lost all trace of a path and I realised that I had strayed from the correct route, so I had to cross the boggy col to reach the clear path. Soon after that the path joined a green lane, becoming a gravel track which helped me pick up my pace again as the sun came out and the temperatures rose. This was an enjoyable, relaxing descent, the path later becoming lined with gorse and then, while passing through Sky Hill Plantation, it was lined with the gorgeous white flowers of wood sorrel, and pre-flowering bluebells. Eventually I came down to the bottom of the path where I was confronted with the harsh reality of the main road which I had to walk along to take me into the town of Ramsey where I was able to catch a tram back to Douglas. This was a very enjoyable walk with some great moments striding across the hills with little or no wind to impede my progress, while the negatives were the closed footpath and a painful knee which got worse as the walk progressed.

The Herring Road

Tuesday 7th April 2026

The weather forecast for the Isle of Man was very good for this day so I was keen to take the maximum benefit from it, especially as the forecast was not so great for the end of the week. I decided that on this day I would do the trail Bayr ny Skeddan, ‘The Herring Road’, which starts from Castletown, so I caught a bus and got off at the railway station. I joined the path beside the Silver Burn as it passes underneath the railway line and past Poulsom Park, also following the route of the Millennium Way, which was created to celebrate the one thousandth anniversary of the Manx Parliament, the Tynwald, while the Herring Road was the route once taken by Manx fisherman as they journeyed between the two ports of Castletown and Peel. Initially I was walking through a stunning landscape with tall, pale green plants that lined the river, but once the park was left behind then the vegetation became more mundane with bramble and gorse now dominating. On the edge of Ballasalla I passed the ruins of Rushen Abbey and entered an amazing valley dominated by wild flowers including ramson (wild garlic) and wood anemones, though only the latter was flowering. Last year I was on the Isle of Man three weeks later and then the white flowers of wild garlic could be seen everywhere, but this year I was a little too early. 

I wasn’t able for me to get good views early on because of the private residences on the other side of the river, but after passing a road I entered the officially protected Silverdale Glen where nature has been allowed to take over in all directions producing a sensational effect that had me in awe. Even though very little was actually in flower, the abundance of greenery was mesmerising. The presence of artificial water channels alongside the river revealed that there had previously been mills in the area, but thankfully it has long since been set aside for nature. All too soon I reached a road bridge where the continuation of the river beyond was clearly less interesting so I was not disappointed to discover that the two trails turn right at this point to head up the busy road. Eventually I turned left onto a farmer’s track, finally leaving the Millennium Way to head towards the prominent hill of South Barrule. This track unfortunately became a horrible quagmire with deep mud that was very difficult for me to pass and even once I was eventually through I soon got lost, losing the path in two water-logged fields that I should never have entered. After going all the way around both fields I eventually returned to the path where I found the stile that I surely could not have been missed. Soon, I reached another access lane which brought me onto a road and then a forestry track through a conifer plantation to the foot of the path up South Barrule.

After lunch I decided that it would remiss of me if I didn’t take this opportunity to bag South Barrule while I was there, so I ascended the path, through heather, as it became increasingly rocky and very windy at the summit, which showed that the strong winds of the last couple of days were still present at the top of the highest hills. Despite the windy conditions, this was a much better hill than North Barrule, in the north of the island, which I had climbed the day before finding it to be saturated underfoot, while rocky South Barrule was well drained. While returning back down the path the nearby hill of Cronk ny Arrey Laa was ahead of me, so once I was back on the road I diverted off the Herring Road again to also bag that hill. However, the strong winds were seemingly even worse on this smaller hill so I didn’t stay at the top very long and soon made my way back down again. I had previously climbed this hill last year in weather that was slightly worse, but maybe not as windy, and now I followed that path, the route of the coastal footpath down the northern slopes for a seemingly long way until I reached a junction where I turned right past the isolated house of Eary Cushlin to return to a road and back onto the Herring Road while a heavy shower passed overhead. Fortunately this was short-lived, though heavy enough to prompt me to get waterproofs out, just as it began to stop. 

A track gradually took me into Glen Rushen while the weather transformed into gorgeous sunshine, which made for a relaxing walk that soon dried me off as I slowly descended and once I was in Glen Mooar I joined a road that eventually brought me through gorgeous surroundings into the village of Glen Maye. I had passed through here last year on a diversion from the coastal path to take in the deep gorge of Glen Maye and, although the Herring Road also doesn’t enter the glen, I once again took the path that descends steeply down to the waterfall and ravine. Even though most of the wild flowers were not yet in bloom, I couldn’t help thinking that the surroundings of this narrow wooded valley were simply beautiful, which is not a word I use lightly as it implies a lot of emotion, but that is just how I felt. Wild flower rich valleys such as Glen Maye are my ultimate happy place, my idea of heaven, and I deliberately walked very slowly so I could let the landscape work its magic on my mind until I reached a road where I merrily returned to the Herring Road and onto a path that climbs the side of the valley past early flowering bluebells and onto the coastal footpath following a precipitous route high above the sea heading towards Corrins Tower on the hill beside the port of Peel. This was an exciting path and a fitting end to an enjoyable, exhilarating walk through a variety of terrain with some highs and lows. The lowest point was the horrendous path through the farmland between Silverdale Glen and South Barrule, while the highs were undoubtedly the wooded valleys of Silverdale Glen and Glen Maye.

North Barrule and Snaefell

Monday 6th April 2026

After the strong winds of the day before, I was hopeful that on this day the winds would have eased and the weather forecast indicated that this would be the case and when I left my accommodation in the city of Douglas the sun was shining. Unfortunately, that didn’t last very long and when I got off the bus beside Ballure Bridge, near Ramsey on the Isle of Man, it was overcast. I was following a walk on the visit Isle of Man website described as North East Summits Five Peaks Challenge and started with a steep climb up a rocky path beside the conifers in Ballure Plantation and it didn’t take me long to discover that it was still very windy. At the top of the path I joined a road to an isolated house where I turned right to cross an exceptionally boggy area and head towards the imposing hill of North Barrule. It is said, “Bad things come in threes”, and that seemed to the case on this walk. Firstly, the poor weather, which would get worse, secondly, I had forgotten to bring any water, though that was easily solved by a stream and a filter, and the third was my walking poles. The wet ground prompted me to get my poles out for the first time on this holiday and I immediately discovered that one of the poles wouldn’t lock, so eventually I had to put it away again and resort to just one pole, though the ground was so boggy I really needed both. After leaping over the worst of the bogs the ground didn’t get much better and continued to be saturated throughout the ascent as I slowly climbed the eastern ridge of North Barrule. 

I had to be very careful with my footing as ground that is this wet gives little grip and I was just glad that I was not coming down since then it would have been almost impossible to keep a grip. The views behind me developed over Ramsey and out to sea, but under the grey overcast skies were not great. This ascent seemed to go on for a long time and never improved and worse was to come as I neared the top and the wind increased to gale force. A narrow ridge lay before me, which in better weather would have been delightful to walk along, but all I could think about was how to get off the ridge and out of this wind. A wall at the col provided me with some shelter while I considered my options, but eventually I realised that my only option was to keep going and battle through the wind. This traverse felt like hell and it brought to mind another quote, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” I couldn’t easily get down off the ridge so I had to go through hell by passing over a minor top above Park Lewellyn and another top, unmarked on maps, but the Isle of Man website calls it Beinn Rein, before crossing a broad saddle adorned with a wooden boardwalk across the wettest parts. On the rise towards Clagh Ouyr I stopped for lunch and while looking back along the ridge I realised that the skies had been brightening and suddenly the clouds parted to reveal blue sky behind the ridge.

Looking back, North Barrule was revealed as having a striking, steep-sided peak, which I hadn’t appreciated while I was at the summit in those windy conditions, but now that the sun had come out and I was sheltered from the wind, I could look back on what I had endured. After a rest and something to eat I climbed up to the top of Clagh Ouyr where the highest point on the Isle of Man, Snaefell, was revealed to me, which is the fifth and final peak on this walk, but with no sign of the winds easing yet I decided to turn left when I reached the bottom of the col and descend to the old mine workings at the head of Laxey Glen. I was fed up with the wind, so I was no mood to climb Snaefell again, which I had visited a year ago. On that occasion I had ascended through Laxey Glen, past the mine and now I descended that way, which provided me with a very relaxing walk along a stony track under warm, blue skies. After passing through hell I felt I was now in paradise. I lingered beside the giant water wheel, taking in the peaceful surroundings, until eventually I reached the railway station where a tram was just about to set off up the mountain railway to the top of Snaefell, so I jumped on board to complete the five peaks challenge, kind of.

The views were sensational, but most notably along the ridge to North Barrule that I had just walked along that morning. It was still very windy so after taking a few pictures I got straight back onto the tram which took me back down. I had originally planned to descend from Snaefell into Glen Roy, so I thought I’d tag that onto the end of this walk by heading into the wooded valley when I returned to Laxey. After getting a bit lost on the many paths in Laxey Glen Garden I headed up the valley admiring the abundant displays of wood anemones lining the stream and absorbing the tranquil scenery, which completed the job of helping me recover from the frightful winds on North Barrule. This day was a stark contrast between the hellish winds in the morning and the relaxing walking through Laxey Glen in the afternoon. I was disappointed with the strong winds on this day which ruined what could have been a fabulous day’s walk over the highest hills on the Isle of Man.

Langness Peninsula and Colby Glen

Sunday 5th April 2026

The weather during the first three months of this year was very wet, which didn’t encourage me to go out for walks, so by Easter I had hardly done any walking for more than an hour or two since the new year, and I was eager to get my walking boots back on. When trying to decide where to walk at Easter I couldn’t think of anywhere better than where I’d been at Easter in 2025: the Isle of Man. That was the first time I’d been there and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the island and the abundance of excellent walking opportunities, from the highest hills to the many wooded glens rich in wild flowers. There was so much that I hadn’t been able to see last year I had no hesitation in rebooking this year, however, when I got to the capital city of Douglas, Storm Dave was making itself felt with strong winds and a threat of rain, so I didn’t go far. The following morning the skies had cleared, but it was still very windy, which is especially frustrating when the weather is otherwise sunny and good. Since those winds were westerly I thought my best plan would be to walk on the east coast, sheltered by the hills, but I was reluctant to return to places I’d already visited last year. Another option was for me to walk around part of the coastal footpath, Raad ny Foillan, the Way of the Gull, and a part that I missed out last year near Castletown, and this was more appealing for me.

Therefore I caught a bus to Castletown, setting off along the road around Castletown Bay with the peninsula of Langness before me and the strong winds behind, which I was most definitely not sheltered from. Soon, I branched off the road to take a path between the pebbly beach and grasslands that inevitably contain a golf course, crossing the isthmus to bring me to the Langness Peninsula. This long promontory is shaped a bit like an anvil and my route was taking me towards the pointy end, past an increasingly rocky coastline, which was roped off with signs warning of ground nesting birds, so I was more than happy to stick to the path even after it joined a rough road. When I eventually reached the car park at the end of the road I took the footpath that led me towards a lighthouse, and branched off to head towards Langness Point. This was fun walk, that sometimes had me scrambling across rocks, but eventually I reached a point where steep cliffs meant I could go no further. My map indicates that the path stops at this point so I was more than happy to turn around and rejoin the coastal footpath to reach Langness Lighthouse at Dreswick Point. I was not in a hurry on this walk so I was enjoying the freedom to explore the area whenever I felt like it.

With a bit of shelter from the wind I had an enjoyable walk beside a craggy coastline but to my left was the golf course, which can be the bane of walkers because they are potentially dangerous places. Fortunately on this occasion it was too windy for golfing. When I reached the blunt end of the Langness Peninsula I was confronted by the strong winds again, which prompted me to put my hood up, despite the sunshine. A causeway led me onto St Michael’s Island where I passed the ruins of the twelfth-century chapel of St Michael to reach the much better preserved Derby Fort, built in the seventeenth-century to protect the then busy port of Derbyhaven, and still boasts cannons. I had good views across the bay and up the coast, which prompted me to take loads of pictures, but the strong winds soon prompted me to turn around and head back into the wind, around the bay. When I reached the small community of Derbyhaven I found some shelter from the wind where I could have my lunch before setting off along the road back into Castletown. On the western side of Castletown Bay I was sheltered from the winds and enjoyed the respite, but it wasn’t long before I rounded Scarlett point and I was facing the strong winds again. This was a good coastline with plenty of rock and the waves crashing against them were producing a spectacular display to keep me entertained as I continued along the path with stunning views across Bay ny Carrickey, despite a bit of cloud cover at this point. 

I had planned to do this walk in the other direction so the winds would be predominately behind me, but then I forgot and got off the bus in the wrong place, where I had intended on finishing the walk, so instead I was once again walking into the wind. Eventually the path brought me to a farm and from there I reached the main road where a footpath finally took me away from the coast, and the winds, across farmer’s fields towards the village of Colby. The contrast between the strong winds beside the coast and the much more pleasant walking inland made me regret having decided to walk along the coast this day, but it was too late for that. When I reached the village of Colby, initially passing the railway station, I headed up Colby Glen Road, which was initially very frustrating because houses were blocking my access to the stream. When the houses eventually stopped a path gave me access to the stream where a fabulous walk followed through a gorgeous wooded valley filled with many wild plants, though very few were in flower, mostly celandines and one or two bluebells or wild garlic. It was still an awesome walk albeit tragically short and soon I reached a bowl where the river turns first east and then all the way around to west enclosing a meadow filled with many woodland flowers and daffodils. 

After a long wander around I followed the path up the western bank towards the small village of Ballakilpheric, leaving the sounds of the stream behind and working up a sweat from the effort of the climb and the lack of a cold wind. On the outskirts I turned right to take another path that brought me back down into the valley, but only briefly and immediately I was climbing back out again to return to the road above Colby. The sunshine was great on this walk so it was a pity about the strong winds. I enjoyed walking beside a stunning coastline and the short walk up Colby Glen was a delightful extra treat which I was sure the Isle of Man would provide me with many more.

Tarn Crag and Blea Rigg

Friday 2nd January 2026

I had nothing planned for the time I spent in the Lake District over the New Year and even more so for my penultimate day because I didn’t have the forced structure imposed by having to walk to another youth hostel since on this day I was staying at the Grasmere Youth Hostel for two days, so I would be going back to where I had started the walk. The evening before I finally had to come up with something and it came into my mind to walk up the Wythburn Valley and to get there from Grasmere I had to go over the pass of Dunmail Raise, which I’d never done before, is the lowest point between the north and south of the Lakes and carries the main road. I kept to the quiet country lanes north of Grasmere for as long as possible to delay joining the main road, and when I eventually did I kept to the grassy verge that eventually brought me to the top of the pass where a cyclepath begins down the other side. I previously came down this track in 2016 when there was no traffic on the road due to a landslip and that was the only time I had previously been in the Wythburn Valley, which is notoriously boggy. I was hopeful that the bogs would now be frozen solid so I could better appreciate a valley that Wainwright said has many geological and geographical features of unusual interest. At Steel End I turned left and soon entered a conifer plantation where I lost all trace of the path as it disappeared into a swamp. Eventually I retraced my steps and found a broken gate that I had ignored which brought me to the Wyth Burn.

With the ground under my feet mostly frozen hard I had an enjoyable walk beside the stream with views ahead of me towards the shadowed Rake Crags and Black Crag while behind me the western slopes of Helvellyn were picking up the morning sunshine that I was sheltered from. The path took me past a scenically delightful stretch of valley with the burn tumbling steeply through a narrow wooded ravine until eventually I emerged to a levelling of the terrain around ‘The Bog’. Fortunately the path skirted the edge of the Bog and so I was able to keep my feet dry before rising again to Wythburn Head where I emerged into the sunshine and turned south heading into bitterly cold winds. It was difficult to stay warm in these conditions unless I kept moving so I did what I could with extra layers and pressed on, briefly joining the Coast to Coast path until I reached Far Easedale Head where I turned right to follow an unreliable line of old fence posts up the hillside. I came up this way just a year earlier but this is such a great, quiet route I was more than happy to take it again before branching left to cross the slopes. There was a lot of ice on the ground which had to be avoided, making the walking tricky, but soon I was on the ridge that gradually descends from High Raise with stunning views before me towards Grasmere until I reached the end of the ridge at the top of Tarn Crag where the views were even more impressive.

Turning around, I headed back up the ridge, branching left to descend onto the shelf that contains Codale Tarn, where I was blessedly sheltered from the cold winds. After passing the partially frozen lake I joined the clear path from Easedale Tarn which was very rocky and icy underfoot, so great care was needed until I reached the top where I turned left, ignoring the Langdale Pikes, to head towards Blea Rigg. The 1:50,000 scale Ordnance Survey map indicates that I was on Blea Rigg, a ridge that comes south east down from High Raise, past Sergeant Man and terminating above Blea Crag. However, in practice Blea Rigg is understood to be the peak above Blea Crag, so that is where I was now headed, gradually descending with fantastic views down the complex, undulating ridge with Windermere in the distance. I have had many enjoyable walks down this ridge and despite the familiarity I thoroughly enjoyed the descent again. Eventually I descended to the top of Blea Crag, i.e. Blea Rigg, with higher ground behind me a short distance back up the ridge. A steep descent from the top was necessary before I could continue the traverse of the ridge and, as is my usual practice, I diverted off the clear path many times to visit the summit of the many minor tops along the way. 

Great Castle How was followed by Little Castle How before another steep descent brought me away the outcrop-rich part of the ridge into an area that was predominately grassy, sometimes boggy, and less interesting. Before reaching Lang How I branched left to descend across the northern slopes of the ridge, but with no trace of a path I had to follow the route that the O.S. Maps app claimed was the route down, keeping constant careful attention on my location. Eventually I reached a clearer path amongst juniper so from there I was more confidently able to descend into Grasmere. This walk was at its best when I was sheltered from the strong cold winds and it was enjoyable ascending the Wythburn Valley through stunning scenery. It is remarkable that both Wainwright tops that I visited on this walk were descended to down ridges where the tops are at the end of the ridge and so only look like a top when seen from the other direction. The following day I walked from Grasmere to the railway station at Windermere with no attempt to create a notable walk out of it, except near the end when I stopped off at the crowded summit of Orrest Head where I had good views back to the fells of the Lake District before saying goodbye to them until next time.

Holme Fell and Langdale

Thursday 1st January 2026

I had no interest in seeing in the New Year so, after an early night, I left the Coniston Youth Hostel and saw that there was now a sprinkling of snow on the high fells. I bought some things for lunch and then set off along the route of the Cumbria Way, which climbs a couple of fields, passing over High Guards before descending back down to Yewdale Beck. Another climb brought me through Tarn Hows Wood to Tarn Hows Cottage where the route back down again was difficult to follow, but soon I was at the road and crossing Glen Mary Bridge. A sketchy path brought me to Harry Guards Wood and became increasingly steep and stony as I ascended Holme Fell, which I had previously climbed by this route in 2009 under deep snow. I attempted Holme Fell exactly a year earlier from the north, but abandoned it by descending this path which was very difficult in descent due to the loose stones, though this was not a problem in ascent. When I reached the top of Uskdale Gap I turned south to visit the fine cairn at the top of Ivy Crag and from there I continued across to the adjacent ridge and the summit of Holme Fell. A strong wind blowing did not detract from the great views, south towards Coniston Water and west towards the high fells including Wetherlam and the snow dusting the Old Man. The Langdale Pikes and the rest of the Lake District was arrayed before me in gorgeous splendour. 

On returning to Uskdale Gap I continued heading north making my way along the north east ridge of Holme Fell, which I had previously used in ascent in 2017, but poor weather had prevented me from appreciating it. Then a year ago I attempted it again only for the weather to be even worse, prompting me to descend before I reached the summit. The day before this walk, while passing around the fell, I had observed this ridge and decided that it would be a good idea to descend that way, and so the idea for this walk emerged. Now, despite a cold wind, I had clear views for my traverse of a ridge that was not always easy to follow with a path that was intermittent and not consistently clear, which had been a big problem for me when in low cloud on my previous visits. It was an enjoyable path, though it avoided the numerous small tops along the way and instead weaved a course around them, undulating up and down until finally I reached Man Crag where a clear descent took me down to the Oxen Fell track. After stopping for lunch I felt very cold and despite putting on an extra fleece it took me a long time to warm up again as I walked along the track to Hodge Close where I turned right to continue heading north. While descending Holme Fell I had noticed a prominent peak a short distance to the north, Great How, which is rarely visited and I had certainly never been there before, so I took the opportunity to divert from my intended route and climb to the top.

There were great views from the summit of Great How, though this is possibly the best that can be said about it with Lingmoor Fell across Little Langdale looked particularly fine while the pass of Dunmail Raise attracted the eye on the line of hills along the northern horizon. A steep descent brought me down to Little Langdale where paths I have never taken before took me across the valley to the track that heads towards Elterwater, but I soon turned off to climb over the low ridge through woodland. On the other side I turned left onto a track that gradually descended into Great Langdale, passing Baysbrown to reach Oat Howe where I crossed the valley to reach the road near Harry Place Farm. After passing the farm I took a faint path that climbs steeply up the side of the valley with views developing behind me past the Langdale Pikes and towards the snow dusted fells. I previously took this path in 2016 when the weather was much worse with low cloud and mist spoiling the view. Now, it had just been a way of lengthening the walk so I wouldn’t reach the youth hostel too early, but it provided me with a thrilling traverse that Wainwright was full of praise for saying it “is a beautiful and exciting route, hardly more strenuous than the road and infinitely preferable. It deserves to be much better known.”

With the skies clearing I was provided with stunning views to Elterwater with Windermere visible beyond, and the delights continued into the ravine of Megs Gill, across a thrilling traverse above the precipitous slopes and onto the top of the ridge below Silver How. A stony path took me all the way down the other side to the boat landings at Grasmere with the village a short distance away. Not surprisingly the Lake District was very busy, but there were many paths that were devoid of people, partly because of my early start, and the path from Harry Place to Megs Gill was also empty. This was a satisfying walk despite not having a firm goal except to have an enjoyable day’s walk in the Lake District.