A walk up Wansfell and Wansfell Pike

I knew that I had to get away before Christmas otherwise the festive season with its activities, indulgences and its unique ability to warp time so you lose track of what day of the week it is would arrive and it would be New Year before normal life resumed. Thankfully, a period of very cold but dry and settled weather was forecast and I took advantage of it to head north, arriving at Troutbeck just as the last rays of watery sunshine were vanishing over the western horizon and the temperature started to plummet. When darkness fell, the clear star studded night sky sucked the last vestiges of any heat out of the ground.

The next morning, as the words of the Christmas Carol say: “earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone”. The Trout Beck river was still flowing merrily next to the parking area and had provided a pleasant, sleep inducing background noise to my night’s sleep but everything else was frozen solid. The bells of Jesus Church a short distance away had also chimed through the cold night, every hour on the hour.

Today’s walk will take me up Wansfell and then along the ridge to Wansfell Pike before returning to the village. It’s a steep incline from the car park up to Troutbeck village, which is just as well as it warms me up nicely. From the village it’s a short walk along the road until a footpath up Nanny Lane is reached. Nanny Lane is a walled track that rises up the fellside and effectively takes you to within a stones throw of Wansfell.

Wainwright describes Nanny Lane as a ‘river bed after rain, complete with river’. Today however it resembles more of an ice rink than a river and I take care to avoid the larger patches of frozen water that cover it. The day really is quite beautiful, a hard, impenetrable frost covers the ground, it is literally frozen solid. The air is crisp, clean and cold in the lungs, the sky is cloud free and azure blue. The low winter sun shines brightly but has little warming effect on the body, or the ground. All is quiet and still in the valley with just the bleating of sheep to be heard.

After a couple of kilometres on Nanny Lane a ladder stile over the wall is crossed and the path continues upwards across the open hillside to reach the summit of Wansfell. A small cairn marks the top and there is a dusting of snow on the ground. In the distance, the Coniston fells, with more substantial snow on them stand out, the clarity of the cold air making them seem much closer than they are.

I can see my next summit, Wansfell Pike at the end of the ridge line ahead of me and beyond that, Windemere lake. It’s not really a day to hang around, particularly as a bit of breeze has got up, freezing the cheeks and ungloved hands, so I grab a bite to eat, have some hot chocolate and head off along the ridge.

It’s a pleasant stroll in the sunshine on a good path with great views all around. In normal circumstances there would have been a bit of squelching to be had over some boggy ground but today I may as well be walking on concrete.

Wansfell Pike is a popular summit easily reached from Ambleside and there were a number of people on it when I arrived. It is also a grand viewpoint. The whole length of Windermere can be seen. Today it is lit up by the winter sun and shining like glass it stretches out like a long finger pointing towards Morecambe Bay and the Irish Sea. The Coniston Fells were even sharper now and looking around me the Fairfield horseshoe, Kirkstone pass and Kentmere fells were all on show.

I find a little spot, wrap up warm, get the hot chocolate out and sit for a while enjoying the sunny blue skies, clean crisp air and unusual clarity of the views. Down on Windermere, the ferrys and sailboats criss cross each on the shining water. 

Now far be it for me to criticise the great man’s choices but as I sat looking at the view from Wansfell Pike I couldn’t help but wonder why Wainwright had left this hill out of his 214. He even admits that the view from Wansfell Pike is superior to those on Wansfell. Then again, I think if he had realised that tens of thousands of people from all over the world would one day be following in his footsteps (full disclosure: I am one of them!) and there would be a thing called ‘Wainwright Bagging’ he may not have called into Patterdale store that day in 1955 with his six copies of The Eastern Fells to sell. He may have instead kept them on his bookshelf for his own personal enjoyment as was his initial intention.

The path from Wansfell Pike drops off steeply at first and then evens out eventually joining back up with Nanny Lane where it is followed back down to the village. Back at the van I put the heater on, make myself some nice hot soup and sit listening to the sound of the river rushing over rocks on its journey down to Windermere whilst the bells of Jesus Church mark the passing of the hours.

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