Stone Arthur and Fairfield

Monday 2nd September 2013

For the fourth time this year I was back in the Lake District and this time I had left my tent at home (and my back was very appreciative of that!) as I went back to using the small rucksack that I’d last used at Easter with a week when I would walk from hostel to hostel, and it felt wonderful to have such a light rucksack on my back again. Due to commitments at home I was unable to start this holiday until after the weekend so I had the unusual experience (for me) of catching a train during the crazy Monday morning rush hour and eventually reached Windermere an hour late (thanks to the infamous punctuality of Virgin Trains). I now had a decision to make: considering the poor, drizzly weather that was in the Lake District when I got there, do I stick with my original plan of climbing Helvellyn or do I catch an earlier bus only as far as Grasmere and do a different walk? Since the title of this post is not Helvellyn it’s obvious that I caught the Grasmere bus, getting off opposite the Swan Hotel just outside the village, to do a more interesting walk than I would have got by going up Helvellyn.

Behind the Swan Hotel, I climbed a delightful lane that has a lovely stream running beside it under a tree-covering. I last came up this way Easter last year, also in poor weather, on my way to Alcock Tarn, but on this occasion at the top of the lane, instead of turning right over a small bridge, I turned left and followed a wall steeply up the fellside with dense bracken on one side and a coniferous wood on the other side of the wall. Before moving away from the cover of the trees I had some lunch and then continued along the path that weaves a course across the fellside gradually climbing towards the prominent tor of rock that is known as Stone Arthur. My only previous visit to Stone Arthur had been in descent in dwindling light at the end of an ambitiously long walk all the way from Windermere Station, so this was now my first ascent of Stone Arthur. I remember last time I was unsure which of the crags on the ridge was the actual Wainwright summit, but from my perspective now in coming up the fell it was obvious as Stone Arthur is very prominent in the views.

This is really just a descending ridge coming down from Great Rigg, so after passing Stone Arthur I wrapped myself more tightly in waterproofs against the harshening weather and proceeded to walk up the gradually ascending ridge that is dotted with rocky outcrops. This was an enjoyable climb, despite the weather, and it wasn’t long before I plunged into the clouds as I reflected that it must have been a while since I last did a walk in low clouds; I’d almost missed it. Eventually the ridge steepened and led me up to the summit of Great Rigg, which I don’t think I’ve visited since that time in 2006 when I descended the ridge that I’d now just climbed; the eastern arm of the Fairfield Horseshoe seems to have held more appeal to me than this side. I contemplated correcting my neglect of this arm of the horseshoe by turning south and descending over Heron Pike, but eventually Fairfield itself won as I continued along the ridge north up to the broad summit. Navigation is difficult on Fairfield in poor weather and even though I located the summit without any difficulty finding the correct way off was tricky.

It was very windy, cold and wet on the summit of Fairfield and this was hampering my efforts to find the route I wanted towards Cofa Pike off the summit, but eventually after a lot of unnecessary wandering around the plateau I managed to find the right direction. The ridge over Cofa Pike is a fabulous scramble that I had particularly wanted to do even though it was not actually in the direction that I ultimately wanted to go. The wet and windy conditions just made the narrow, rocky ridge even more exciting until eventually it led me down to Deepdale Hause. There is a path between Deepdale Hause and Grisedale Tarn after Wainwright suggested that ‘some public-spirited hiker with nothing better to do would serve his fellows well by stamping out a track and cairning it.’ This has been done but the path is rather faint until a cairned junction is reached. I was intrigued by this excellent, clearer path so I turned right along it and it seems to head across the fellside towards St Sunday Crag, but I couldn’t see where it went in the poor weather, though I would love to find out where this well-made path goes.

Eventually I returned back along this good path to the junction and confidently followed it down to Grisedale Tarn where I was able to join the popular path that climbs out of Grisedale on its way to Grasmere over Grisedale Hause. It had stopped raining as I left Fairfield, but the ground was still very wet and I found the pitched stones of the path coming down from Grisedale Hause very slippery. I don’t know if my old boots were not as grippy as they could have been, but I was having a really difficult time on this heavily manufactured path and I wished I’d had my walking poles with me. In fact, I didn’t slip over until I was off the pitched stone path; maybe I was thinking that I didn’t need to be so careful at that point. The stone pitching soon ended and left me with a delightful walk down into Grasmere. This was a fabulous walk, even though it was short and most of the time it was raining, windy and cloudy. It just shows why I could keep coming back to the Lake District: in any weather it is a fantastic place to walk. The path beside Tongue Gill as I came off the fells reminded of the beautiful little places that are so abundant in the Lake District. Thanks to the weather and a missed train connection I did a walk that was probably a lot better than the one I’d originally planned.

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.