I arrive early at the National Trust car park just South of Dockray and am spoilt for choice as it is completely empty. Not liking choice, I choose two spots before finally settling on a third. It’s a cold, crisp dry January morning with the promise of a bit of sun later. The road into Dockray is followed for a short while until the footpath, next to a little art studio is joined.
Once off the road I stop to get my poles out and I am joined by a lady and her dog. A local, she told me she was off for her morning walk to feed the red squirrels that live in the woodland that borders Aira Beck. After a slow and steady incline up boggy ground I reach the wall by Common Fell and then follow this all the way up to Swinside Knot. It’s here that the views start to open up and the long silver ribbon of Ullswater comes into view for the first time, glistening in the morning sun.
As Wainwright himself puts it ‘cameras out at this corner”. The incline eases slightly as the path follows the contour around Brown Hills and into the Glencoyne valley. I am careful not to follow the footpath into Glencoyne and leave it to traverse up the hillside to meet the wall, with a stile over it in the hollow between Brown Hills and Birkett Fell.
The Sun is out, but there is a chill in the air as height is gained and snow is now appearing on the ground. The wall is followed fairly steeply uphill and then left near the top to reach the tidy little summit of Birkett Fell.
Strangely, Wainwright makes no mention of this top with its well built little cairn which even has it’s own plaque and name inscribed on it. I can only assume this was put here after the great man himself had passed this way. NB: Thanks to A H Griffin’s country diary’s I have found out that Birkett Fell was named and the plaque put up in the early 60’s in honour of Lord Birkett. There is a good view of Ullswater from the summit and the objective of the day, Hart Side can be seen rising up slightly in the distance across a flat expanse of moorland.
It’s winter and at this height the ground is now frozen solid with a slight dusting of snow on it. This makes for pleasant enough walking across the frozen pools of water on the way to Hart Side but I imagine in normal circumstances this would be a bit of a bog hopper and wet feet might be the order of the day. The ground rises slightly as the summit is approached and before long I am stood on top of my third Wainwright, Hart Side.
After pictures and video at the summit I can see a solitary figure at the shelter a short distance away, only the second person I have seen all day and I wander over to say hello. We engage in conversation and the lady explains that she and her husband run a farm just over the border and they have come down for the day, her to climb Hart Side and he to go cycling. A border collie sits obediently at her feet. Casually she also mentions that she is in her sixties and has recently had a double hip replacement. I suddenly feel very young and thankful for the health that I have but also admiration that this lady has not let her health issues get in the way of her doing what she enjoys.
After they leave I enjoy some solitude and hot chocolate in the shelter. It is a pretty raw day and any thoughts I may have had about going on to Stybarrow and Great Dodd are dispelled as I watch the cloud starting to come in and swirl around these higher tops. I am happy to apply my own rule of making sure I get a view from the summits I climb and decide that they can wait for another day. Retracing my steps back to Birkett Fell and then down to the hollow, I climb the stile and follow the boggy path down to Dowthwaitehead.
As I lose height the wind drops and the low winter afternoon sun comes out, lighting up the valley sides with a Golden glow. Rather than take the road back to Dockray I enjoy a pleasant, flat walk along the footpath crossing the farm fields.
The path skirts Crookwath, goes through Lucy’s wood and pops out on the road just outside Dockray.
Back in the village I warm up with a coffee at the Royal Hotel before heading back to the campervan.
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