Blea Tarn and Irton Pike

Sunday 28th July 2013

This day did not go to plan, all due to the changeable weather. My glorious camp location at the top of Harter Fell in the Lake District was not so special in the morning after heavy rain fell all night and left me with a damp, misty start to the day. I ate my breakfast while it was still raining and clouds completely enveloped the mountain. During a lull in the rain I broke camp and set off down the fell, disconsolately realising that all my carefully laid plans for the day of walking along the broad ridge of Birker Fell and Ulpha Fell all the way to the south-western corner of the Lake District on Black Combe would have to be abandoned. I needed good, clear weather for that walk to succeed and above all little rain as boggy ground and poor visibility would have made the walk not only difficult, but not at all enjoyable. Instead I headed straight back down the mountain the way I’d come.

When I got to Spothow Gill, the gentle stream that I had easily crossed the evening before, I found a raging torrent that could not be crossed with any measure of safety. Since I couldn’t descend that way I stayed on the main footpath veering to the right and crossing the northern slopes of Harter Fell I eventually reached the bottom of the valley at Jubilee Bridge. I hadn’t intended on going all the way to Jubilee Bridge and actually I had intended on taking the route that I have taken on a couple of previous occasions down to Whahouse Bridge, but I completely missed the turning and ended up on a great track that I hadn’t taken before that leads to the foot of Hardknott Pass beside Jubilee Bridge. Ultimately I needed to head back towards the coast so I turned around and followed the edge of the fell-wall along a path that took me back to Penny Hill Farm. The day before I had walked beside the River Esk as far as Doctor Bridge, so now when I reached the bridge I crossed it and followed the river downstream on the opposite bank.

By this time the rain had stopped and the sun briefly came out which added sparkles to the water that was passing under Doctor Bridge. I had an enjoyable walk along the slightly over-grown path, beside the river, until eventually I reached St Catherine’s Church where I noticed that the stepping stones that had been perfectly safe the day before were now completely submerged. It was a good thing I wasn’t planning on going that way; instead I walked out to the valley road and Dalegarth Station on the Ravenglass & Eskdale Railway. I was still unsure what I was going to do having debated with myself all the way down Eskdale and had still not reached a decision. I contemplated taking the train to Ravenglass and then the mainline train to the foot of Black Combe so I could accomplish at least some of my original plan.

When I discovered that the mainline trains don’t run on a Sunday I abandoned that idea, left the station and walked up to the delightful hamlet of Boot. From there I climbed the fells that overlook Bootm mainly because I’d never been on those fells before. There is no definite summit in this area with the highest point, Boat How, being too far away and not significant enough for me to bother with, so instead I headed toward Blea Tarn, which is a lovely lake in a pleasant setting. A steep climb brought me onto the open moor where relics of a mining past littered the area, but were too meagre to add much interest. The earlier sun had not lasted long and now an overcast sky, cold winds and murky views accompanied me as I had my lunch. Things soon improved, however, with the terrain as I made my way along a slender path down a ravine to the shore of Blea Tarn, an attractive lake surrounded by bracken and crags on a shelf overlooking Eskdale.

Slowly I made my way across the complex terrain following faint paths that often led me astray as I tried to find a route from Blea Tarn past Siney Tarn and Blind Tarn to Fell End. All the way the weather gradually improved so by the time I reached secluded Miterdale the weather had changed completely with the clouds now breaking up to let the sun shine brightly and provide me with better weather and views than I’d even had the day before. It was thanks to these improving conditions that I decided to do Wainwright’s walk from his Outlying Fells book up Irton Pike. The path that Wainwright describes as ‘a charmer’ took me steeply through Miterdale Forest all the way up to the top of the ridge. As I made my way along the ridge left towards Irton Pike the views behind me started to open up and grab my attention, for in that direction was Wasdale with Great Gable standing proud at the head of the valley. The weather was now perfect and gave me an excellent view of these great fells.

Continuing along the ridge I made my way onto the tiny summit of Irton Pike, an excellent vantage point with unrestricted views across to the sea and into Eskdale as well as more of that view towards Wasdale Head. I sat by the summit in awe of my surroundings and completely content with what had turned out to be a great day, unfortunately it soon started to deteriorate. A steep, narrow path took me off Irton Pike onto a road where a long walk along the road brought me back down to the bottom of Eskdale, but I still had no idea where I would spend the night. In the end I tried to find somewhere to camp on Muncaster Fell, where I’d started the weekend's walk the day before, but it was getting late by the time I started to climb the fell and after a wrong turning brought me to the top of Silver Knott, a low hill at the eastern end of Muncaster Fell, I was too exhausted to go any further and camped in the hollow between Silver Knott and Hooker Crag. It was soon obvious that this was a mistake as I had camped beside a midge-infested marsh, but in the morning this became even worse as heavy overnight rain flooded my camp spot. It is a pity the weekend had to end so badly.

Eskdale

Saturday 27th July 2013

For this walk I thought it would be a good idea to go from the sea all the way up to the top of a mountain. During the morning I travelled up to Cumbria on the train and got off at the unspoilt seaside village of Ravenglass where a little train affectionately known as “La’al Ratty” begins its trundle up into Eskdale, undoubtedly the most beautiful valley in the Lake District. I have travelled on this train a couple of times over the years, most recently in 2010, but not on this occasion as I was now going to walk all the way up the valley, and I was going to start with my feet in the sea. While walking through the tiny village I was struck by how small and unspoilt it was having escaped the Victorian craze for seaside resorts, which has left us with a village that has hardly changed in hundreds of years. Beyond the village I reached the sea where the River Esk from Eskdale and the River Irt from Wasdale meet and enter the sea, and there I dipped my toes into the water (or more accurately I got my boots a little wet in the River Esk near the sea).

From there I set off along a footpath where the first thing of note that I discovered was Walls Castle, actually a Roman bath house that is astonishingly well preserved, for a Roman building in Britain, especially when compared with the three foot high Hadrian’s Wall. Soon after continuing along the path, the warm humid weather that had hung around Britain throughout July started to make me feel uncomfortable and made the walk quite difficult and tiring. I usually have my main holiday, in Scotland, at the beginning of June simply because it’s cooler, while this walk was being done at the peak of the summer, which does not make for easy backpacking. After passing Muncaster Castle I climbed to the top of Muncaster Fell, a small fell on the outskirts of the Lake District that Wainwright had included in his Pictorial Guide to the Outlying Fells of Lakeland. I had already done a couple of these fells before, notably last Christmas, and I had found them all to be enjoyable, especially when only an easy walk is required.

There were tremendous views from the top of Muncaster Fell, back towards the coast as well as towards the fells, which were obscured by mist as is typical at this time of the year due to humidity. While walking along the entire length of the bilberry, heather and bracken covered fell, two much bigger fells dominated my view: up Miterdale the huge bulk of mighty Sca Fell, while up Eskdale the distinctive, pointed peak of Harter Fell drew my steps. These are two very differently shaped mountains, but both dominated the view ahead of me as I negotiated the complex terrain while slowly descending into Eskdale. Eventually I came down into the valley at Muncaster Head Farm where I joined a path beside the River Esk and followed it all the way up the valley. This was a relaxing part of the day as I strolled along a track through the tranquil, unspoilt valley, and even paid a visit to the waterfall, Stanley Ghyll Force, simply because I couldn’t bring myself to walk past without seeing again the sixty foot high waterfall in its dramatic, deep and narrow gorge.

Resuming my walk along Eskdale, just after passing Penny Hill Farm, I took an old peat road that climbs steeply up the fellside to the peaty heights above, where peat used to be cut and then brought down into the valley so it could be burned for heat. At an old sign marked Harter Fell I came off the peat road and climbed an excellent, craggy path across a delightful, deeply-cut stream and through a broad stony rake onto the open moor. This was a fantastic route that I don’t think I’ve taken before as previously, in 2005, I  climbed from Wha House Bridge and followed Spothow Gill up, but the route I’d just taken is far superior. After crossing Spothow Gill I gradually made my way through heather up the slopes of Harter Fell, but since it was now getting late I was beginning to tire. It was the end of a long day and yet I was climbing a mountain, which is not something that I would normally do this late in the day. With the gradient getter steeper and steeper I started to stop more and more times and for longer and longer periods with the gaps between them getting shorter and shorter.

I had hardly any energy left so every step was becoming an agony, but eventually, somehow, I managed to reach the top of Harter Fell where I found a spot on the northern side of the fell, just below the summit, where I could break out my tent and make camp. Just two months previously, while holidaying in Scotland, I had stayed in a tent for the first time, and that went so well I thought I would try it in the Lake District. I hadn’t camped at the top of a mountain while in Scotland so this was more thrilling: I loved it. Despite my difficulty in reaching the top, once I got there it was a great feeling to able to gaze across Eskdale towards the great mountains that circle the head of the valley as twilight slowly began to fall. This was a tiring walk in humid weather, but nevertheless it was an enjoyable challenge, and it felt good to be climbing rock again up that stony rake.