A walk up Troutbeck Tongue

Troutbeck Tongue is a small mound of a hill, separated from the higher hills surrounding it by two valleys. The term often used for these hills is the slightly dismissive term ‘outlier’. Those seeking to walk the Wainwright’s in the shortest time or looking to fit multiple peaks into one day do not like outliers, they are an inconvenience with lots of effort for little reward. I don’t mind them so much, they provide short days and time for relaxed, contemplative walking. A chance to decompress. The enjoyment is in the journey not the target.

I spend the night in a lovely spot I’ve stopped at a few times before. Just after 6am a car driving past sounds the horn repeatedly for a good five seconds as it passes the van. This happened last time I was here in a weekday, at the same time and it’s going to be the same person. I picture an angry little man, it’ll almost certainly be a man behind the wheel who thinks he has been appointed by divine authority as the arbiter, deciding who should be allowed to park in public spaces and to punish those who upset him with his ‘horn of anger’.

I’m not sure what makes some people so angry at six in the morning that they want to wake a stranger that has done them no harm, caused them no inconvenience and is parked lawfully nowhere near their house. I suppose if we knew the answer to that we would not be living in a world full of anger, hate and war.

The weather is dank but due to improve so I have a lazy breakfast spent listening to the comforting sound of Trout Beck rushing past to Windemere. Mid morning I decide it’s time to venture out. I pass Jesus Church whose bells sound on the hour every hour, even through the night and then head up through Limefitt Holiday Park before passing through a gate onto the fellside.

Once again I find myself on the old Roman road (interesting read Here) as I have so often on my Far Eastern Fells journey. I live twenty metres from the Roman road from Chester (Deva) to Warrington (Wilderspool)  and in my dotage I’m going to buy a metal detector and find that hidden Roman hoard.  The track winds up the valley passing Town Head and Ing Bridge. Troutbeck Tongue is ahead of me and gets slightly larger the closer I get but its diminutive size means it never dominates the scene.

I pass through a farmyard and then there are some small cascades tumbling down from the heights of Yoke, where I was chasing clouds yesterday. Clouds are still flitting over the high hills surrounding the valley but they are more thinly dispersed than yesterday and the weather is improving all the time.

As I draw level with Troutbeck Tongue I leave the old Roman road and drop down across a field to a footbridge crossing Hagg Gill. Before heading uphill again I take a break underneath a group of Elm trees growing along the bank of the stream.

At first the path is boggy, not surprising with all the rain we have had but as height is gained the ground becomes firmer underfoot and a steady short climb follows up the southern ridge of the hill.

Behind me, flat green farmers fields divided by stone walls stretch along the valley floor, Trout Beck flows through them and brown bracken covered hills rise up either side. In the distance there is what seems to be the ever present view of Windermere.

After a short walk up and a little bit of flat the small summit cairn is reached. To the south is the view down to Windermere but all around are higher, grander hills making little Troutbeck Tongue look a tad inadequate. It’s the chubby little hill, last to be chosen by the cool kids picking the football team and put in goal where it inevitably lets one in whilst staring at the sky daydreaming.

Heading down, I had seen a path on open street map that saved me either retracing my steps or walking out of my way north along the ridge. The path drops steeply off the summit ridge to the west but it was soon lost among the golden bracken so I ploughed my own furrow until I saw the gate which was the escape route across the fence. A rough and muddy quad bike track then led me eventually round to Troutbeck Park Farm.

Troutbeck Park Farm has some history. It was bought by Beatrix Potter in 1923 when it was threatened with development and with the help of a shepherd she built up a large flock of Herdwick Sheep. She also had a study here where she did some of her writing.

Easy walking follows along the farm lane and I have plenty of time to admire the scenery in the valley. Ing Lane takes me all the way to Town Head, first crossing Haggs bridge and then Ing bridge.

At Town Head I leave the track and take the footpath to Troutbeck which leads me nicely back to the grounds of Jesus Church for the two o’clock chimes followed by a cup of tea in the van.

Route Map, Walk Stats, Geolocated Picture Gallery and 3D Flyover Video Below.

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