Murton Pike, Murton Fell & High Cup Nick

On June 21, 2020June 22, 2020 By ChristoLeave a comment

Date walked: 6th June 2020
OS Map: OL19 – Howgill Fells & Upper Eden Valley
Start/finish point: NY 729 219
Distance: 17km
Elevation Gain: 619m
Hills climbed: Murton Pike (594m), Murton Fell (675m)

Murton Fell & High Cup Nick

High Cup Nick is one of those places I kept on reading about, hearing about, tapping with my finger on the OS map and wondering about. The three red pins marking the fells which sit within the Warcop firing ranges have also been teasing me. They don’t look exciting, they seem dangerous, they need doing – even if only the once. Lots of plotting, more optimistic forecasts, and the prospect of another walk with my good pal Laura, led to a decision to climb Murton Pike, Murton Fell, head around to High Cup Nick, then either descend the boulders into the valley, or else return via one of the high paths.

And while we’re on, let’s try a bit more of this trail running lark.

We arrived at Murton late morning, after driving through the ranges and passing bits and bobs of millitary paraphernalia. There’s parking for a good few cars, and as soon as you leave the car you’re on the good track that leads steadily up towards Murton Pike. The wind was picking up, and by the time we arrived at the trig point after a steep little climb, it was actually difficult to stand up. After admiring the brooding sky, we did an about turn and ran back down the hill until we rejoined the track that would lead us in the direction of Murton Fell, the Hewitt we’d decided to bag today.

I say we, actually it was just me. Laura stayed with the main track and we agreed to meet in a little while at the head of Trundale Gill. Unless you’re in the business of bagging summits, I’ve learned that not all hills appeal to all people. Murton Pike looked and felt like a dramatic little hill, it appeals to anybody out on a walk. The prospect of striking out across the pathless moor, going ‘just as far as the danger signs then turning left’ on a mission to locate a somewhat featureless summit strikes some as lunacy.

The loneliness of the Hewitt bagger.

I will say that I actually found the summit plateau of Murton Fell attractive, and with a spring in my step I set about jogging again, making light work of the boggy ground and skipping my way down to the rendezvous point. Reacquainted with my pal, we followed the path up the hillside and emerged above Middle Tongue. We caught glimpses of the huge valley beneath us, and of the escarpment opposite, but the jaw-dropping spectacle of High Cup Nick really did save itself until we were actually at the, well, Nick. Words failed me. I’d been missing out, and could have sat there all day admiring the view.

We explored the steep boulder field that takes you from the Nick to the valley floor, but decided it might be slow going, when today was all about travelling light and trotting around in tights. And so we decided to take the path above the same side of the escarpment we had arrived on, stopping frequently to admire the views, watch streams disappear over the edge, and get slightly nervous that we might do the same.

Descending Middle Tongue made for easy walking/jogging, and we were surrounded by bog cotton as almost as far as the eye could see. Murton Pike looked still more dramatic from this side, and eventually we dropped down to the farm at Harbour Flatt. We somehow missed the footpath marked on the map, and so just continued to the minor road and followed it back to the car park at Murton. High Cup Nick was spectacular, this part of the Northern Pennines was spectacular, trying some running instead of walking was, if not spectacular, fun.

The sight of me in leggings was neither spectacular nor pleasant. And for that, and to those walkers also enjoying the stunning landscape that day, I apologise most sincerely.

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.

Bolt’s Law & Horseshoe Hill

On June 12, 2020June 12, 2020 By ChristoLeave a comment

Date walked: 21st May 2020
OS Map: Explorer 307 – Consett & Derwent Reservoir
Start/finish point: NZ 002 430
Distance: 17.3km
Elevation Gain: 370m
Hills climbed: Bolt’s Law (540m), Horseshoe Hill (519m)

Bolt's Law & Horseshoe Hill

While the glorious weather remained and restrictions continued to ease, it was off back to Weardale with a plan to complete the Durham Deweys – I had Bolt’s Law and Horseshoe Hill still to climb. We parked at the end of the Waskerley Way, near Dursands Quarry, and followed the bridleway to the west for a short time – marked Wilkinson’s Cut on the map. We’d planned a fairly lengthy circular rather than a there-and-back walk, so we took the feint path down Whiteley Rigg until we met Stanhope Burn. Losing height did of course mean that we had to plod back up the other side, and recent heather burnings meant the path wasn’t clear, but luckily you can’t really get lost and so we stomped straight up the hillside until we met the good track on Cot Hill (another quarry remnant, I think). From here the walking was easy, and we could enjoy the views over Stanhope Common towards Bolt’s Law.

After passing an impressive shooting hut, the track winds its way around Long Law, before joining the Boltslaw Incline: yet another remnant of the area’s industrial past, taking the form of a railway bed straight up the hillside. Once at the top, you’re greeted by interesting ruins of the old engine house and workers’ shelters. I find this kind of industrial architecture fascinating, and it serves as a reminder that these hills were once teeming with human life and industry. Today, however, I hardly saw a soul and could have heard a pin drop. Well, when the breeze let up, anyway.

Continuing along past the ruins, the track levels out and ultimately veers right, leading back to the bridleway we started on. So it took a little detour over more burned heather to reach the summit of Bolt’s Law. For such a modest hill, the views were fantastic and we took a lunch break at the currick (the trig point offers less impressive views), enjoying views all the way to Cross Fell and beyond. Stunning clear conditions lately!

We left Bolt’s Law with some reluctance, and headed down over the heather to rejoin the track – making use of the scorched/clear ground to avoid disturbing nesting birds. It was a straightforward wander along past Dead Friars, and after leaving the track we made our way to the minor road and up the modest slope to reach the summit of the next Dewey, Horseshoe Hill. A much less impressive hill, complete with masts in a fenced compound, slightly boggier ground, but still some pleasant views from the trig.

After a brief rest, we took a pretty straight line down to rejoin the original track, rather than continue across the soft ground and on to the road again. From here it was a lazy stroll all the way back to the car park, stopping now and then to enjoy the views across Stanhope Common. It’s an interesting circular, in that you can almost see the entire route open up before you no matter where you are (views only masked when you’re on the Boltslaw Incline), and it felt great to be out for another substantial walk. If this continues, it might be time to cast my eyes a little further, to some Hewitts…

Five Pikes & Hamsterley Common

On May 25, 2020May 25, 2020 By ChristoLeave a comment

Date walked: 16th May 2020
OS Map: OL31 – North Pennines (Teesdale & Weardale)
Start/finish point: NY 996 306
Distance: 9.75km
Elevation gain:408m
Hills climbed: Pawlaw Pike (488m), Five Pikes (478m)

Five Pikes & Hamsterley Common

This was the first walk outside of my immediate area in almost two months, and while Weardale is still only a fairly short drive from Gateshead, I still felt like a naughty school boy doing something I oughtn’t to be doing. I reasoned that actually I was less likely to come into contact with people up here than if I went to my local park again, and I was right – I didn’t see another soul all day, but for an estate worker driving along moorland tracks, checking on the shooting huts.

There is a small car parking area at NY 996 306, near Little Eggleshope Beck, and immediately you see the well-constructed paths onto various hillsides, and of course the roads and tracks built for the shooting fraternity. These paths make for easy walking, and so before long I was gaining ascent without really noticing, and heading for the first hill of the day – Pawlaw Pike. Staying local has given me an appreciation of unclassified hills. These modest summits often have interesting names and are all marked on the map, but don’t fit any of the criteria to be hills on tickable lists, or to pique the interest of hillwalkers at large. I find them fascinating, and have enjoyed walking and ticking-off all the hills on my local maps, regardless of their modesty. Pawlaw pike is merely a raised lump on the otherwise featureless moor, but forms an impressive little peak in its own way, and allows wonderful panoramic views of Weardale and Hamsterley Common. Dropping back to the track , I headed on towards Five Pikes, with its trig point at 478m and the well-made stone currick offering views down towards Hamsterley Common.

There was a warm wind which just offered enough relief from the sun, and I enjoyed the sound of silence as I plodded ever downwards, towards the interestingly named Meeting of the Grains. I say silence, but I ought to mention the electronic calls of the defensive Lapwings, swooping close-by to make sure I didn’t leave the track and disturb their nests, and of course the disgruntled calls of the ubiquitous Red Grouse, who seem to wait until you’re almost on top of them before they dart out of the heather. Perhaps they want to make sure we know what it feels like to get a shock to the system. The expanse of moorland visible on all sides at first seems fairly featureless, but the more time you spend in the heather, the closer you look at even the smallest of patches of ground, the more you realise how much these landscapes teem with life. There is nothing dull about walking on moorland, and in these weather conditions, where even potentially boggy ground was dry as a bone, it was hard to imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

The Meeting of the Grains is an unexpectedly green, wooded glade tucked away between heathery slopes, and struck me as being a perfect bivvy spot for future visits. Sheltered from the wind, lush and green, and with a pond and a beautiful babbling stream running through it, this little oasis seemed a natural place to stop for lunch. It was with some reluctance that I stood up again 15 minutes later to stomp my way up the heathery hillside and across Hamsterley Common.

The footpath across the common soon deposits you on the northern edge of Hamsterley Forest, and a stiff and seemingly underused gate grants you access to this vast woodland. I’d not set foot in Hamsterley Forest since I was a child growing up in County Durham – sad to think that it has taken lockdown to get me to explore the place again. A narrow forest path that wouldn’t be out of place in a Grimm fairy tale leads gently though the trees and deeper into the forest, emerging at a forestry track and a sign that warns of a ‘dangerous descent’ ahead, and a ‘stream crossing’. I peered over the edge into the valley in question, and decide that whoever made the sign was perhaps overcautious. a gentle trot down the hillside brought me to the stream, which was fairly dry due to the recent hot weather. And in any case, there were stepping stones. From here I took a sharp right and joined another track, which snaked up the hillside to the area know as Sharnberry Flat. Rabbits darted across the track every now and then, and at one point I thought I saw a deer out of the corner of my eye, but whatever it was, it moved too fast to be sure.

Sharnberry Flat and my brief foray into Hamsterley Forest eventually gave way to a path high above Sharnberry Gill, where remnants of the area’s mining past were clearly visible. A shaft opening here, a scarred hillside there, the kind of landscape you become very used to in the North Pennines. Sharnberry Gill winds its way back to the car park, or should I say from the car park, given that this home strait was uphill. I stopped near the modern shooting huts to rest by the ice cold stream, before pushing the final few hundred meters to the car park. This first substantial outing since lockdown began was a treat, and the weather could not have been better. A reminder that there is some wonderful walking almost on the doorstep, so long as you don’t mind leaving the tickable hill lists at home once in a while.

Writing about the Great Outdoors

On May 24, 2020 By Christo1 Comment

I’ve been meaning to start blogging about my outdoor adventures for some time, but have always stopped short of typing the first few words – how does one know when they have enough experience to share anything meaningful? When does an outdoors newbie cross the line and think of themselves as experienced enough to have something to say? Lockdown has, for all its hellish impact on all our lives, given us a chance to reset and perhaps take stock of the things we do – and so recently I have found myself totting-up my hill bagging tallies, poring over notebooks from long-distance walks, editing photos from the last couple of years of hiking adventures, and I feel perhaps I might just have had enough adventures to be of at least some interest, to someone, somewhere.

It all started in 2016, when grief and ongoing family illnesses made me crave an escape. I was no stranger to travelling, and had spent a lot of time in previous years hopping across Europe on short trips and adventures, but urban adventures no longer felt like the right fit for me, and I felt an inexplicable urge to head to Scotland. I’m glad I did. With some cheap boots on my feet and a lot of cheap gear on my back, I disappeared to Barra in the Outer Hebrides, with no skills, no experience, and even less clue about the fact that August is not necessarily the best time to camp there. I returned to the mainland, and my normal life, a changed man. Since August 2016 the outdoors have been more an obsession than a hobby, and thanks to the likes of Walkhighlands and their incredible hillwalking resources, thanks to the myriad guidebooks and maps out there, thanks to blog posts by other, more seasoned adventurers, I have spent the last 3-and-a-bit years getting out at every opportunity. Next came the Hebridean Way, the island bagging, the wild camping, the fascination with hill bagging, a few more long distance walks. At the time of starting this blog, my hill lists are as follows:

12 Munros
29 Corbetts
28 Grahams
74 Donalds
120 Wainwrights
111 Hewitts
92 Scottish Marilyns
A host of other, little hills, often of no less character

And so, sitting on top of this list of hills and exploits, having spend a lot of time either in my tent or bivvy bag staring at the stars, having walked and scrambled in all weathers and at all times of year, I finally decided I can call myself an outdoor enthusiast rather than a newbie walker, and it is time to start typing, at long last.

I hope the blog posts that follow are of interest. Perhaps you’ve walked the same routes, climbed the same hills; maybe I can learn from fellow outdoors people; maybe I’ve met you on the hill already, or our paths might yet cross out there in the wilderness; maybe, just maybe, my posts will be of some interest or inspiration when you’re planning your own adventures and exploits.

Most of my outdoor trips are done using public transport. All of them are done on a budget. It amazes me, when I’m sitting atop a somewhat remote Donald in southern Scotland, that I was able to get there on a string of trains, ever-smaller buses, and a healthy dose of determination. I hope that the theme of ‘getting out there no matter how awkward the place may be to get to’ rings clear in my blog posts, and finally I should make mention of the power of the great outdoors to soothe the soul. Fortunately, the idea of ‘mountains for the mind’ is a popular and well-documented one these days, and so many people I meet have tales to tell about how the great outdoors is good for their mental health, their wellbeing, their soul. My own adventure started out of painful and emotional times, and I have found the great outdoors to be the greatest healer of all.

I hope you enjoy my posts, and perhaps I’ll see you on the hill…

The Man in the Buff

Tag: Hiking

Murton Pike, Murton Fell & High Cup Nick

Escaping Lockdown – Wild Boar Fell & Swarth Fell

Bolt’s Law & Horseshoe Hill

Five Pikes & Hamsterley Common

Writing about the Great Outdoors