Allen Crags and Seathwaite Fell from Seathwaite

In March 1988 Andy and I were enjoying a few days walking in a cold and frosty Lakeland. Having walked up Grains Gill from Seathwaite we were taking a break when we noticed two red clad walkers who were motoring up the path at some pace behind us. “They’re not hanging around,” remarked Andy and as the two speedy walkers drew level we recognised one of them to be non other than Sir Chris Bonington, one of Britain’s best known and celebrated mountaineers. We chatted for a few minutes before Sir Chris went off with his companion to climb Central Gully on Great End which was nicely compacted with frozen snow and Andy and I went off to climb England’s highest mountain for the first time. I’ve walked past that spot in Grains Gill many times since and will do so again today, in the heat of an English summer as I walk up Allen Crags and Seathwaite Fell. Each time I pass by I remember with fondness the day I met a mountaineering legend.

The hot dry spell continues and for the second day running I have a breakfast view from the van of a hill I’m going to climb, this time its Seathwaite Fell, looking bigger than its modest 2,000ft at the head of the valley. I make sure the blinds are up on the van before leaving it and head down to Seathwaite Farm.

If the small hamlet of Seathwaite is known for anything outside of hillwalking circles it is as the wettest place in England with an average rainfall of about 3.5 metres. For comparison, Milford Sound, the wettest place in New Zealand gets nearly double that at 6.8 metres (you can read about my walk along the Milford Track here if you like).

There has been a farm at Seathwaite since at least the 15th century, probably going back to the 10th when the Norsemen gave it its name. The whitewashed farm buildings are slightly newer, dating from from 1850’s. It’s a no nonsense working farm with manure piled up in the yard and dark sheds hiding mysterious shuffling occupants. A cobbled yard leads through the farm and out onto the ancient pack horse route leading to Wasdale.

Beyond the farm, a track heads up the valley to the much photographed and popular Stockley Bridge. Built in the early to mid eighteenth century the bridge, like the farm buildings is a grade two listed structure. The past is ever present at Seathwaite.

I cross the hump backed bridge go through a gate and then take a sharp left onto the path heading up Grains Gill. As one of the popular routes to England’s highest tops, the Grains Gill path is a busy one and it used to be badly eroded.

Today however, thanks in part to the team at Fix the Fells and others it is in very good condition with embedded stone blocks providing firm and secure footing.

I’d go as far as to say it’s a pleasure to walk up, especially in the sunshine and stillness with only the sound of the gill to be heard. It’s clear racing waters are shimmering in the sunlight today, bobbing and weaving around huge boulders and cascading over millennia smoothed rock blocks in a series of mini waterfalls creating swirling eddy’s in deep and inviting rock pools.

‘The impeded stream is the one that sings’, Wendell Berry.

The path flattens out at the top of the Gill and divides into two, right for Sty Head and left for Esk Hause. Straight ahead is not an option for walkers as the way is barred by the six hundred foot north east face of Great End. I take a breather in the shadow of the buttress and have a look at its cracks and gulleys. Central Gulley is easy enough to identify as the big gash in the middle of the rock face. To its left is South East Gulley and over to the right is Custs Gulley. All these are for climbers only although the top itself is easily accessible to walkers via Esk Hause.

From the top of Grains Gill I take the Esk Hause path which follows the line of Ruddy Gill and the small ravine that it carved out of the hillside. The gill is all but dry today but the red earth underfoot gives a clue as to how it got its name. A fork is reached and I turn left towards my first hill, Allen Crags.

I cross some fords and eventual reach a crest. If I carried straight on I would reach Angle Tarn and eventually drop into Langdale. I ended up in Langdale by mistake once, we were completely lost in cloud heading to Far Easdale and somehow ended up in Langdale.

There is no chance of making that mistake today as visibility is perfect and there is not a cloud to be seen in the azure blue sky. And thanks to Ronald Reagan no less (Note to younger readers: an actor turned American president) we now all have access to the United States GPS satellites. Let’s hope they never turn them off, I’d be walking into wrong valleys again in no time.

The path up to Allen Crags is obvious from the crest and it isn’t long before I reach the small summit cairn with magnificent views of the rolling green hills and valleys of Lakeland all around me. I bask in the sunshine for a bit, eating, drinking and admiring the view before retracing my steps down to Esk Hause and back to the top of Grains Gill.

Crossing the top of the Gill I reach the calm blue waters of Sprinkling Tarn. From its shores Great Gable lives up to its name looking every inch ‘Great’ across the gulf of Sty Head, with Green Gable looking admiringly up at his big brother across Windy Gap.

At Sprinkling Tarn I leave behind the main path and walk past the tarn on occasionally boggy ground, passing another smaller unnamed tarn on my way to Seathwaite Fell. Like Allen Crags, Seathwaite Fell has a remarkably good view from its summit despite its small stature.

Whilst planning this route I had some concerns about my drop off from Seathwaite Fell. A path is indicated on Open Street Map and indeed Wainwright mentions it, but it looked pretty steep on the map. I wasn’t keen on backtracking to Sprinkling Tarn so decided to stick with the plan and see how it looked when I got there.

And now I’m here. At first the path is barely discernible but as I’m funneled towards the sides of a craggy ravine it becomes more defined by the countless boots that have gone before me. From the top of the gully I can see a very steep and loose path heading down in mini zig zags. It doesn’t look very appealing.

I’m not going back now though, so I gird up my loins and take a slow and steady step by step down, thankful for the stability my poles provide. Towards the bottom the steepness of the slope eases into the kinder gradient of the valley side and eventually I reach the main Sty Head path which takes me back down to Stockley Bridge past the small plantation of pines near Taylorgill Force which provide some brief respite from the relentless sun.

There are people sunbathing at Stockley Bridge, such is the summer vibe that this hot dry spell has brought and when I get back to the van the roadside is lined with vehicles with not a space between them and the van thermometer reads 42°c. Good job I put the blinds up.

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

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