A walk up Green Crag from Eskdale

The settled high pressure of the last few days continues to keep the clouds away and after another freezing, star studded night the morning dawns bright and clear. It’s a perfect day for walking. If yesterday’s walk, Harter Fell is on the fringes of Lakeland today’s, Green Crag is the border post. There is not a Wainwright further south west of it and beyond are the flattening foothills and fields leading to the Cumbria coastline.

One benefit of walking when the weather is sub zero is that the frozen ground will hopefully make my progress up Green Crag a pleasurably dry one on a hill that has a reputation as being somewhat boot suckingly boggy.

From my van night stop at the Woolpack Inn I retrace my steps of yesterday afternoon down to Doctor Bridge and on the way pass a field of Belted Galloways, a breed of cattle that seems to be becoming a feature in Lakeland these days.

A walk in the Lake District is always a walk through history. Doctor Bridge dates from the 17th century and gets its name from a local surgeon, Edward Tyson who had it widened in 1734 so his pony and trap could get over it. Turning right I head down the lane to Low Birker and get to follow the clear and spritely waters of the River Esk for a short while, sunlight dancing off its rippling surface.

Curving around the back of the Low Birker buildings I join up with one of the ancient peat tracks that have been walked for centuries by working men digging peat out of these hills. Height is quickly gained up the steep track and before long I reach the ruins of one of the old peat storage buildings that dot the hillsides of Eskdale.

These stone huts, known as ‘peat scales’ were used to store and dry the peat prior to it being moved downhill to heat the homes and farms of the valley. You can read an academic paper on the Peat Scales here if interested.

Peat digging took place in Eskdale from the 16th century until the 1950’s. Ironically, digging for this ancient source of heat ended just as, only a few miles away on the coast, Britains first nuclear power station Windscale (now Sellafield) was being built.

Always one to try and mix my routes up a bit I decide to follow the path less traveled from the old peat hut and despite the frozen ground still manage to get wet boots trudging across the peaty mossland. Not a problem today but I expect when not half frozen the bog would make for tiresome walking. I smile as I remember a time when my daughter sank up to her thigh on Nine Standards Rigg and all I kept saying was “don’t lose your boot!” You can read about that particularly muddy day here if you like.

After a while the diversion rejoins the ‘main’ path which is only slightly better underfoot. Initially I mistake Crook Crag as my destination as it is the prominent hill right in front of me but it becomes clear that Green Crag lies, as yet unseen beyond it.

The path contours around Crook Crag and heads up an obvious gap between the two rocky mounds. At the top of the small col I see a path heading straight up skirting to the left of the craggy summit rocks and I decide to take it.

Although not difficult, it’s an upward scramble on rocky terrain and when I reach the top I see that if only I had carried on for a hundred metres I would have come across a much easier route to where I was.

From the little plateau I find myself on its another short scramble up, around and then back on myself to reach the summit of Green Crag.

The view across Eskdale to the Scafells is the premiere view of the day, the freezing, still air means that I can make out the summit rock platform on Scafell Pike and perhaps a figure or two. Wisps of cloud float ethereally just below the summits. Nearby Harter Fell looks resplendent in the winter sunshine and behind me Devoke Water is the only lake on show as the land flattens out towards the coast.

In the main Cumbria’s coastline tends to be one of working towns and heavy industry. BAE Systems shipyard in Barrow in Furness builds and maintains the U.K’s fleet of nuclear submarines and I’ve mentioned Sellafield, which is being de-commissioned, not a quick or easy process for a nuclear power station.

I occasionally think if only the Lake District could have the crashing waves, hidden sandy coves and sea stacks of Cornwall it would be just about perfect. Maybe natural beauty has to be shared out evenly though, Cumbria gets the mountains, lakes, hikers and Wainwright, Cornwall can have the cream teas, Bodmin Moor, surfers and Rick Stein.

On the way back I stay on the main track which goes past Low Birker Tarn and then a short diversion takes me to Birker Force waterfall. I pass the old peat hut again and retrace my steps back down the hillside.

Back at Doctor Bridge, being a sucker for an old church I’m standing trying to find St Catherine’s as it was signposted at the road-head but I can’t see it on the map. A couple, who I assume are tourists pass by and the woman asks if I’m OK. I explain and she kindly gives me directions. “Is it worth a visit?” I ask as they walk on, “ask my dad, he’s buried there” she calls back and I’m reminded of an old work phrase “to assume makes an ass of u and me”.

To see a route map of this walk with stats, geolocated pictures and downloadable GPX of the route click ‘Learn more’ below