Penrith to Threlkeld, by way of some Elusive Fells

On August 13, 2020August 13, 2020 By ChristoLeave a comment

Date walked: 24/25th July 2020
OS Map: Explorer OL5 – The English Lakes: North-Eastern Area
Start/finish point: NY 511 299/NY 322 254
Distance: 55km
Elevation Gain: 2500m
Hills Climbed: High Seat (802m), Kidsty Pike (780m), Rampsgill Head (792m), The Knott (739m), Rest Dodd (696m), Brock Crags (561m), Angletarn Pikes (567m), Sheffield Pike (675m), Hart Side (756m), Stybarrow Dodd (843m), Watson’s Dodd (789m), Great Dodd (857m), Clough Head (726m)

Lakes 1

I’m a fan of coming up with long (perhaps idiosyncratic) walks, joining up hills that I have either missed on previous trips, or would perhaps be a little awkward for me to get to generally. It also makes me feel like I’ve ‘had my money’s worth’ so to speak, given that it takes so long for me to get places on public transport.

And so it was that I set off from Penrith with a plan to walk some of the High Street Roman road (or at least as near to it as you can in the 21st century) and then head off somewhere near High Raise and do a few of the Far Eastern Fells. I strode out of Penrith with a spring in my step, following footpaths through farm fields, the fells teasing me on the horizon. After a while, it became road walking, and I half planned to walk up to Celleron then up on towards ‘The Cockpit’ and on to the fells, some of which I had walked before. In fact, I got to Celleron then suddenly had a change of heart – why not drop down into Pooley Bridge, then walk some of the Ullswater Way? I could always hit the fells somewhere above Howtown.

And so that is how I found myself wandering, one early summer evening, along the path above Ullswater, happy as a pig in muck.

Once past Howtown, I entered Fusedale for the first time – and what a glorious valley! The good path took me gradually along Fusedale Beck and then gradually climbed, and climbed, and climbed, emerging on Wether Hill – hey presto, I was back on the Roman Road. The sun was getting lower in the sky, and up a height the temperature dropped substantially. My mind turned to a bed for the night, but not before bagging Kidsty Pike, Rampsgill Head, and the rather shapely Knott.

Descending The Knott, I found a lovely little flat area overlooking Rest Dodd, and caught sight of several deer. Tent up, perfect spot. Throughout the night the deer came close to the tent and made the most terrifying noises – who’d have thought Bambi would sound like something from a horror film? Very early the next morning I breakfasted in the rain then tackled Rest Dodd head-on, before dropping down towards Brock Crags, along by Angle Tarn, then somewhat awkwardly up to Angletarn Pikes and its list of summits.

As a side note, I was delighted at my previous night’s pitch high up on Knott, and counted no fewer than 17 tents dotted around Angle Tarn. I also counted no fewer than 6 bum cheeks going about their morning movements by the tarn, and found myself feeling a little angry at my fellow man. Or perhaps just bitter that I have braved all manner of uncomfortable conditions in the hills, attending to business far away from my tent, far from paths, digging little holes. At Angletarn-by-the-sea they were only a burger van away from being a resort. Anyway, onwards.

I say onwards, I came across another pair of cheeks at the Boredale Hause ‘junction’, tutted as the cheeks retreated through the tent flaps, then made my way down to Glenridding. Time to adjust myself, attend to aching feet, get rid of rubbish (in a bin, fancy that), before making my way up to the Greenside Road and along the busy path we all know so well.

I stopped to watch the lines of people snake their way up towards Helvellyn, and then left the path to head up to my own private fells, up Stang End and through the interesting remnants of mining works, to make my way to Sheffield Pike. Back down to the path, and then steeply up Glencoyne Head, I was off across to the rather inconveniently situated Hart Side, when the mist suddenly rolled-in and the landscape looked more like it usually does when I’m in the hills.

Next on to the Dodds. The mist cleared every now and then to give me little glimpses of Thirlmere, and by the time I arrived at Watson’s Dodd (an underrated fell in my humble opinion…) the conditions were excellent. I lingered at Watson’s Dodd, and not just because of the name.

The rest of the walk was straightforward, gentle walking – Great Dodd, Calfhow Pike, then straight up the (wet) side of Clough Head. This latter fell has teased me so many times when I’ve travelled by bus into Keswick, it felt great to have conquered it at long last. But it soon conquered me, because the steep descent down the screes made the ending to the walk rather more dramatic and telling on the knees than I would have liked. Great views, though.

And so I snaked my way down to Threlkeld, and had a pint while waiting for my bus, chuffed that I could now tick off a whole bunch of beautiful fells. Fells that have been teasing me for months. Cheers!

Seathwaite Fell & Allen Crags

On July 24, 2020 By ChristoLeave a comment

Date walked: 5th July 2020
OS Map: Explorer OL4 – The Lake District: North-Western Area/OL5 – The Lake District: South-Western Area
Start/finish point: NY 235 121
Distance: 14.5km
Elevation Gain: 743m
Hills Climbed: Seathwaite Fell (632m), Allen Crags (785m)

Seathwaite Fell

This was intended to be walk 5.4 in my Nuttall guide, with Glaramara being the main event, but there was a question mark over the whole walk from the moment we left Gateshead on a wet Sunday morning. Forecasts were ‘interesting’ and we knew the wettest place in England would be, well, pretty wet, but we thought it was worth a look anyway.

How very wet it was. And windy. And pretty cold. And grey. We were drowned rats before we even left Seathwaite Farm. But we plodded onwards. As did several other parties, one of them a pair of young walkers who were planning to climb Scafell Pike. We pointed them in the right direction (or at least a direction) and started the walk up to the very pretty Stockley Bridge. We were chatting about Wainwright bagging as we walked in the driving rain, and the conversation turned to one Paul Tierney, the guy who ran all 214 Wainwrights last year in a record six days or other. Just then, a group of damp fell runners passed us at a little ford. “That’s only Paul Tierney!” I exclaimed. Mr Tierney didn’t hear me, but did say hello as he jogged on by. I felt oddly chuffed to have seen him, a celebrity of the fells, and laughed at what our reaction might have been if AW himself had been around today, and we had bumped into him! Anyway, we crossed the bridge and headed up towards Taylor Force waterfall, all the while scanning Aaron Crags – my guide said to strike out onto the pathless slopes about 300 yards along the path after the plantation ends, but no matter which way I looked at Aaron Crags it seemed like a pretty tough slog up to Wainwright’s summit at 601m. We decided that my (non-peak-obsessed) friend needn’t go through the steep slog, so we arranged to meet at Sprinkling Tarn – she carried on along the path, I headed up to the summit.

The summit plateau of Seathwaite Fell, with its three tops, reminded me a little of Tarn Crag, and I felt oddly at home already among the knobbly mounds and pretty little bodies of water. The weather conditions were pretty rough, and cloud cover meant the views form the true summit cairn were limited, but I decided I like this fell and it was a shame that an inability to stand up in the wind mean I couldn’t hang around. Soon I dropped down to Sprinkling Tarn, and once reacquainted with my pal, we headed on up the path.

We bumped into our two young friends from the start of the walk, who had climbed Ruddy Gill and got as far as the shelter under Broad End, before calling it a day because of weather and visibility. They also thought they were at Sty Head, and were rather confused, so we spent a while chatting in the rain and sent them back off the way we had come (or at least the way my friend had come) and said our goodbyes. Lovely lads, on their first lakeland walk, and it reminded me of my own baptism(s) of fire in Scotland, soaked to the skin, and wondering what on earth I was doing. I hoped today didn’t put them off, and suggested a few walks and small fells they might consider on the way back home.

But soon, we found ourselves in a similar position to the lads. It had gone rather dark, other walkers seemed to have evaporated, and as we plodded up to Allen Crags, we were treated to hail and stinging faces. Do we continue to Glaramara? Or do we drop down Ruddy Gill and agree that discretion is the better part of valour? We opted for the latter, and reluctantly retraced our steps and dropped down to follow the Ruddy Gill path all the way back to Seathwaite.

This was to be just the second time in 135 Wainwrights that I had been defeated (or sternly discouraged…) by weather conditions, and I also knew it wasn’t right to force my pal to plod on when they had come for a walk rather than an expedition. I found I had to have a word with myself on the way down Ruddy Gill, what on earth was I feeling bad about? A glorious walk in dramatic weather, in one of the most beautiful areas of the country, and somehow not managing to tick all the planned summit boxes made me feel disappointed?! We laughed at the delicious futility of peak bagging, made a few remarks about not seeing the wood for the trees, and the rest of today’s walk was one of two soaked pals, in good spirits, taking what felt like the longest path in Lakeland, admiring views and celebrating that we couldn’t get any more wet.

It was something of a relief when we reached the car at Seathwaite, but it had been a cracking walk. Just not quite walk 5.4.

Oh, and despite what I said above, Glaramara – I’m coming for you…

Escaping Lockdown – Wild Boar Fell & Swarth Fell

On June 15, 2020June 15, 2020 By ChristoLeave a comment

Date walked: 30th May 2020
OS Map: OL19 – Howgill Fells & Upper Eden Valley
Start/finish point: NY 783 005
Distance: 16.7km
Elevation Gain: 618m
Hills Climbed: Wild Boar Fell (708m), Wild Boar Fell East Top (707m), Swarth Fell (681m), Swarth Fell Pike (651m)

Mallerstang Common

After exhausting just about every local footpath, and with the lockdown restrictions gradually easing, I felt it was time to dig the OS maps out, grab my Nuttall guide and make some Hewitt plans. My good friend Laura had agreed to join me for a socially distanced walk, and I felt I owed her something scenic after the misty, rainy baptism of fire on Mungrisdale Common last time we went a-Hewitting. We decided to ‘just touch’ the northern edge of the Yorkshire Dales (still feeling a little naughty going to a National Park at all), and so a plan was set on a gloriously sunny morning to head down to Outhgill, and tackle Wild Boar Fell.

There’s a small parking place at ‘The Thrang’ with room for about half a dozen cars, and from there we followed the footpath through the fields on the other side of the road, gradually working our way under the Settle-Carlisle railway line and on to the fairly steep lower slopes of our first objective, The Nab. The conditions were crystal clear and the sun was beating down on us, but with just enough breeze to keep everything comfortable. I felt I could relax a little, confident this was not going to Mungrisdale 2.0.

Arriving at High Dolphinsty, we left the Pennine Bridleway (not before subjecting Laura to a panoramic lecture – yes, she knows which ones are the Howgills; yes, she knows I slept on that hill…I bore myself sometimes) and followed the path up the ridge towards The Nab, which is a fabulous viewpoint. I love the distinctive profile of hills such as this – all Pen-y-ghent-style steep edges and magnificent views, backed by fairly flat tops and easy ‘back door’ routes. It reminded of the Brecon Beacons, too, and made me wish I knew the first thing about geology.

We left The Nab and made our way across the grassy plateau to the actual summit of Wild Boar Fell, with its renovated trig pillar and wind shelter. More fantastic views, and more lectures. And I wonder why I do most of my walking alone. Returning to the dramatic edge along from The Nab, we visited the cairns between Yoadcomb Scar and High White Scar, chatting, as so many walkers surely do, about the prevalence of such cairns on these hills. I decided I like the Nine Standards kind of tale, imagining these cairns being placed strategically to give the impression of soldiers and lookouts preparing to repel invaders. Certainly, we kept looking at what we thought were people on other hills, only to discover they were cairns. I went into storyteller mode and found myself conjuring up images of hill watches guarding Pendragon Castle in the valley below. I suspect Laura was tempted to push me over the cliff edge.

We walked around the edge of ‘The Band’ and then dropped down the hillside, past a pretty little tarn, then straight back up the next hillside to reach the second Hewitt of the day, Swarth Fell. The view from the summit cairn back across to Wild Boar Fell was spectacular. The wind had really picked up now, which was pleasant on the mild sun burn, but not ideal for sitting down and cracking open the Babybels, so we continued a short way and dropped down slightly to the cairn at Swarth Fell Pike. Slightly sheltered, we took a break and admired the views.

It was now time to head down into the valley, and though not marked as a path as such, we simply followed the boundary line on the map until we arrived at the minor road near Aisgill Moor Cottages. Pausing frequently to look back at the hills we had climbed, we crossed the railway bridge and followed a series of footpaths back along Mallerstang Common. The map reads like the most fascinating history book, and the imagination goes into overdrive: Helgill Force, Slade Edge, Hanging Lund. I kept my mouth shut on this side of the valley, however. No more historical lectures.

We finally left the hillside paths at Elmgill Farm, and we walked along the road for the last few hundred metres or so, back to the car. Once again, the views of the day’s hills were fantastic. Back at The Thrang, we took our boots off and bathed our feet in the icy stream that runs under the road and down into the valley, before reluctantly leaving Mallerstang and heading home. That wasn’t quite it, though. We paused at Outhgill to have a look at the memorial to the workers who died constructing this stretch of the iconic Settle-Carlisle railway, and also to take a look at the replica ‘Jew Stone’. Anybody unfamiliar with the story behind the stone should do a little digging – but far be it from me to lecture you.

The Man in the Buff

Tag: cairn

Penrith to Threlkeld, by way of some Elusive Fells

Seathwaite Fell & Allen Crags

Escaping Lockdown – Wild Boar Fell & Swarth Fell