Helvellyn

Friday 2nd January 2009

During this walk the weather turned and I was treated to the full harshness of winter weather with a bitterly cold, northerly wind, and snow. It didn't start like that, however, as it was sunny with broken cloud, so when I set off up Glenridding the prospect for the day once again looked good. I was walking along the Red Tarn path out of Glenridding even though Red Tarn was not my destination. Half way up the path beside Red Tarn Beck I turned right along the course of an old leat that crosses the hillside below Catstycam on its way to an old breached dam in Keppel Cove. It was quite interesting to follow that old water channel; it used to capture the waters of Red Tarn Beck and channel them into the reservoir, though with the end of mining in this area it has fallen into disuse. The course of the leat can still be traced on the ground, and wooden planks can even be seen at the foot of a crag where the water was carried around the outcrop in a wooden aqueduct. When I reached the dam I made my way up the hillside to the steep north-western ridge of Catstycam. The climb up this ridge was great fun and I enjoyed every step on the rocky path, prolonging the climb for as long as possible by taking my time and stopping frequently to take in the views (or it may have been because it was really exhausting!).

The name of this fell, Catstycam, is really strange, but what is even more strange is that I’ve been miss-pronouncing it all these years! I have always thought of this fell as Cats-eye-cam, but the Ordnance Survey map spells it Catstye Cam, with two t’s. I never realized it was the sty of a cat, always thinking it was the eye. It’s funny how one can glance at a word and read something completely different. Wainwright in his individualistic fashion spelt the fell Catstycam as I have above, but he notes the OS’s spelling and another: Catchedicam, which is completely different! Eventually I reached the top which was covered in cloud so I was unable to see the awesome view that can be seen from the summit along Glenridding towards Ullswater. Instead I turned left dropping off the summit and towards Helvellyn,  climbing Swirral Edge at the end of the connecting ridge. This is an enjoyable ridge, perhaps more satisfying than the ridiculously popular Striding Edge as it has a steeper scramble at the end, especially if you keep to the top of the ridge. Obviously I did try to keep to the top, but a bit of hoar frost on the rocks and some old compacted snow made things a little more interesting.

When I was near the top of the edge the clouds lifted to reveal tremendous views of Catstycam and across Red Tarn so when I reached the summit of Helvellyn I took quite a few pictures of the view from the broad top of Helvellyn while bathed in sunshine. Setting off once again I passed over Lower Man and descended north down the rocky ridge. As I descended, the wind picked up and soon it became bitterly cold as the sun and clear views that I had just enjoyed at the top of Helvellyn quickly became a distant memory. Battling against the cold wind I made my way over White Side and on over Raise. As I started to drop down from the rocky top of Raise it started snowing and so for the first time on this holiday I had to get my cagoule out. Wrapped up against the wind and frozen rain I crossed Sticks Pass and climbed up to the top of Stybarrow Dodd where I had my lunch. Despite the crowds on Helvellyn and on the paths that lead up to it, once I was over Sticks Pass the crowds were, thankfully, left behind.

After lunch I descended the grassy slopes of Stybarrow Dodd and passed over White Stones (called Green Side by Wainwright) to Glencoyne Head where I dropped steeply down past the Green Side mines to Nick Head (a col at the top of a stream called the Nick). Beyond Nick Head I climbed up to Sheffield Pike, which I’d last visited in 2003 when the weather was also poor. This is another of those complex lower fells that can be difficult to navigate across, if one is not careful, like me as I tried to explore the ridge above Black Crag but made rather a mess of crossing the fell as I was going in the wrong direction for Heron Pike. I actually enjoyed my time on Sheffield Pike as I explored the various crags of the heather-clad fell, but eventually I had to climb back up to the metal post that marks the top of Heron Pike and where I found the path that I should have taken to get off the fell.

Once I was going in the right direction I followed this narrow path as I negotiated an undulating ridge across to Glenridding Dodd. This isolated fell is covered in heather and I found myself wishing the rest of the Lake District was similarly clad rather than the boring, sheep-grazed, grassy hills that are more common. The Dodds north of the Sticks Pass are all grass covered and have absolutely no character or redeeming features, and one of the reasons for that is the sheep. Grass is not the natural state of these fells, but heather, bracken and I suppose ultimately, trees. I just wish more of the Lake District had heather-covered fells. I didn't realise until I was approaching Glenridding Dodd that I hadn’t been up it before because in 2003 I bypassed the fell dismissing it as a worthless appendage at the end of the long shoulder of Stybarrow Dodd. But now I am actively seeking out and going up all the Wainwrights so I bagged the summit, in the diminishing light, and quickly descended steeply into Glenridding where all that remained was to walk along the road back up the valley to the youth hostel. The weather on this walk was a little more challenging but I had a great time climbing Catstycam and the complex terrain on Sheffield Pike was a joy.

Derwent Water to Glenridding

Thursday 1st January 2009

I really enjoyed this walk as I travelled from the Derwent Water Youth Hostel to the Helvellyn Youth Hostel in Glenridding. The weather was once again fantastic without a cloud in the sky; I could hardly believe how lucky I was on the holiday with clear weather all week. I started the walk by going up to Ashness Bridge following a path that climbs beside Ashness Gill. I had started a walk here eleven months before during a snowy day in February, but on this walk there was no snow on the ground, though it was certainly very cold with ice in abundance all around the area. This is just the sort of weather conditions you want for a walk up High Seat, when everything in frozen, as it is notoriously boggy. On this occasion, however, I still had to dodge most of the bogs as they were now sheets of very slippery ice, which didn’t help . Another problem I had during the ascent was that since it was winter the sun was low in the sky and directly ahead of me, just above the top of High Seat, so everything before me was in silhouette, which made it difficult to follow the path. Eventually I managed to climb the heather covered slopes to the top of High Seat where the views from this centrally located vantage point were excellent.

After crossing over to the twin top, I descended the pathless grassy slopes to the top of Shoulthwaite Gill. This stream runs down a brilliant little secluded valley that is little-known, but where a narrow path threads its delightful way down the valley with imposing crags on the western side and dark, foreboding woodland on the east. I had the pleasure of walking through this small valley two years ago, but sadly on this walk I was only able to get a glimpse of the valley before crossing the stream and over a fence into the wood, where I followed forest tracks to a path that took me up to the top of Raven Crag. This is an awesome viewpoint with views down the length of Thirlmere Reservoir and across the lake towards the steep slopes of Helvellyn. I have been looking forward to going up Raven Crag for years and it was quite wonderful to be up there. I had tried to plan a walk up there several times before but I was not sure how to arrange it, so to finally be there was something of a relief and a satisfaction that the long wait had been worth it. Eventually, I left the summit and made my way down the steep woodland slopes to a road where I passed over the dam for the reservoir, (I don’t think I had ever actually been to Thirlmere until this moment) and crossed the main road to the foot of Castle Rock. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to go up this outcrop as it looked rather small from the top of Raven Crag (though still over 1000 feet high), plus Wainwright didn’t see fit to devote a chapter to it in his Pictorial Guides. However once I got to the foot of Castle Rock I couldn’t resist the temptation, thinking it would be a good place to have lunch. What I found was a wonderful little climb up a steep rocky path that zigzags up the slope, sometimes traversing along ledges as it climbs and is just the sort of path that I crave and live for. I really enjoyed going up there and once I got to the top of Castle Rock I was able to enjoy tremendous views of Thirlmere in the glorious sunshine. Once I had eaten my lunch I made my way across the bracken covered hillside, and across the deep ravine of Stanah Gill, to get onto the footpath over Sticks Pass. When I climbed over there in 2003 the weather was really poor and I was being subjected to painful, horizontal rain (this was my first experience of bad weather in the Lake District). On this walk the weather was also beginning to turn poor (though it didn’t rain), and I was hit by some strong winds while on the steep, lengthy climb all the way up to the top of the pass.

When I eventually reached the top I decided to go up Raise as I had some spare time, even though the summit was now covered in mist as had most of the other high fells in the area. Raise has a fine summit with an abundance of rock, which is quite exceptional on the Helvellyn range; further north, the Dodds are mere grassy domes with scarcely any rock to speak of, but Raise, even though it has dull grassy slopes, has a mountainous summit. After leaving the rock-strewn summit I ventured away from the main ridge path and set a course down the broad eastern slopes towards the remains of a chimney. The flue for this chimney went across the hillside and I followed this off the fell towards the disused mine workings of Greenside Mine just as the sun was setting. It was fascinating to look at all the old mine workings; even though it’s fifty years since the mine closed, a large amount of slag heaps, old flues and water channels litter the area (such was the scale of the mine). On joining the main path down from Sticks Pass I descended the steep slopes on an excellent graded track, obviously an old mine road that deliberately steers a course away from the unstable mine workings. The track passes below a cliff on a ledge and zigzags down the side of the valley to the bottom of Glenridding where a short walk took me to the hostel. These old mines that litter the Lake District are in one way a bit of a scar on the landscape, but on the other hand they are a part of the history of the area and lend some fascination as I found while walking into Glenridding, and was a fascinating way to end yet another brilliant day in the Lake District, and what a day to do it. I can’t think of a better way to spend New Year's Day than walking in the Lake District.