A walk up Tarn Crag (Easedale)

I have some personal rules which guide my journey through the Wainwright’s (here) one of these ‘I will get a view from each top’ has already entailed some return visits over the first two books. The awful weather and cancelled plans over the first months of the year have got me thinking that I may have to take more risks with the forecast if I am ever to finish my Wainwright journey before I go to rest with my ancestors. For a man who likes certainty and all his ducks in order it’s an uncomfortable prospect, but here I am, heading up Far Easedale looking up at a cloud topped Tarn Crag hoping that by the time I get there it will be clear. I can hear the roulette wheel spinning.

I’m parked in a lay-by just north of Grasmere and leaving the van I join the route of the Coast to Coast path which brings back memories of a rain lashed and wind battered day on that walk when my daughter literally got blown off her feet by the gales at Grisedale Tarn (here). That was just the kind of relentlessly unforgiving day I’m trying to avoid on my Wainwright’s. More memories are brought to mind when I pass by Thorney How. Once it was a YHA youth hostel and I stayed there in the early 80’s. I remember mopping the floor as one of the ‘jobs’ that used to be allocated to hostellers by the warden before they left. Today it’s a private retreat venue where ‘It’s time to switch off and make connections within, with others and with nature to create a truly memorable experience’. It was all that of course in 1982, only cheaper and perhaps with a little less pretension.

The lane heads upwards following centuries old moss covered walls and out onto the open fell which is where I get my glimpse of a cloud topped Tarn Crag. Far Easedale is a pretty valley with the rushing waters of Far Easedale Gill providing the soundtrack to a steady walk up to the bridge at Stythwaite Steps, named for stepping stones no longer used. On the way, the waterfalls of Sourmilk Gill which will be my return journey are seen to good effect tumbling down the hillside.

Shortly after crossing the bridge, the business end of the day starts with a steep walk up the East Ridge of Tarn Crag which winds its way through rock bluffs. Easedale Tarn is slowly revealed below whilst above, the tops are still covered with cloud.

A small col is reached just past Greathead Crag where a decision has to be made. Do I abort and drop down to Easedale Tarn or do I carry on spending energy to reach a top that I may have to return to. I figure I have got this far and there are some encouraging breaks appearing so I decide to carry on and live with the consequences.

The path heads upwards, through a gap of higher ground and then flattens out onto a summit plateau. It’s like stepping onto Dartmoor in The Hound of the Baskervilles. Mist swirls around rock towers that appear and disappear out of the gloom and all is soggy underfoot with small pools to be wary of. I’m expecting Basil Rathbone to appear out of the mist in his deerstalker.

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I wander round a bit, to be fair, I am following the path on the map but it’s useless when looking for the high point in the mist as it goes straight between them. I orientate myself and reach the top just as the cloud is starting to break up, mist is still swirling about but I have just snuck in maybe a hundred metres or so below the main cloud base. It’s easy this weather forecasting lark.

Having satisfied myself that a view all the way back down to Grasmere definitely counts as an acceptable view I wander over to Tarn Crags secondary summit which has a cairn and better perspective down the valley.

After admiring the views and being thankful for my good fortune I head back down to the col where a steep path down the bracken takes me to Easedale Tarn. Sat by the head of the tarn a teacher is explaining glacial ice flow direction in the Lake District to a group of students, I would guess on a geography field trip. I sit and listen for a while whilst looking across to Tarn Crag, still clear of cloud.

The Sour Milk Gill path to Easedale Tarn was very popular with the Victorian’s, so much so that an enterprising man from Grasmere, Robert Hayton built a refreshment hut to service the visitors. Sadly the hut and the Victorian’s have long since gone but the evidence of glacial erosion ten thousand years ago is still around. There’s a lesson in there somewhere.

It’s a pleasant and delightful walk back down to Grasmere and I stop often to admire the cascades of Sour Milk Gill as it tumbles its way down to the lake.

Just past New Bridge the path meets up with the road and I head to nearby Lancrigg as I was told the cafe there was well worth a visit. Unfortunately it was closed for a wedding so I head back to the van for my own five star tea and fruit cake instead.

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