Category: Wainwright’s

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Birkhouse Moor and Catstyecam

It’s the Queens Platinum Jubilee Weekend and Seventy years of Her Majesty on the Throne is being marked by street parties up and down the land and a double Bank Holiday. Even the weather is paying homage with warmth and sunshine. Not one for street parties, or pomp and circumstance I have managed to squeeze into Gillside campsite in Glenridding, the perfect starting point to climb the remaining two hills of Book One, Birkhouse Moor and Catstyecam and bring my journey through Book One, The Eastern Fells Fells to its conclusion.

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Great Rigg, Heron Pike and Nab Scar

Gazing out at the glorious views of Lakeland from the summit of Great Rigg I feel a little melancholic. This is my first mountain summit since turning sixty. I remember well my first trip to the Lake District. In 1983, aged twenty one, a mate and I drove over from Yorkshire where I was stationed at the time. We were with a couple of girls we fancied in a very old VW Beetle owned by one the girls. We walked around Keswick before heading up to Watendlath for a dip in the tarn and then a walk up High Tove. On the way back to Yorkshire the Beetle broke down several times and had to be coaxed back to life with a bit of WD40. When you’re 21 thinking about being 60, well you may as well be thinking about being dead. But here I am, very much alive, still climbing hills 39 years later.

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Hart Crag and Fairfield from Dovedale

Having had the pleasure of walking down Dovedale last summer after climbing Hartsop Above How, today I have the equal pleasure of walking up it. The Dovedale valley is quite rightly regarded as one of the most delightful of Lakeland valleys. It’s varied in terrain and picturesque in appearance. Starting in the pastoral landscape of Hartsop, it follows a dancing Dovedale Beck up past waterfalls and then narrows and steepens in its higher reaches into an enclave that provides enticing views far above to the imposing Dove Crag with its popular cave, known as The Priests Hole. At the top it opens out onto the flat plateau of Houndshope Cove just below the Crag and provides extensive views down the valley to Patterdale and across Kirkstone to the Far Eastern Fells and the Pennines beyond.

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The Pikes and Dove Crag from Ambleside

It’s my first trip to Lakeland this year. The busyness of life has kept me away but here I am on a Friday evening in early March stopping in what is described as an ‘Aire’ on the outskirts of Ambleside. It’s next to the football club and seems to be the only place in town that can accommodate campervans. I’m here with the intention of doing the Fairfield Horseshoe, a classic Lakeland ridge walk that starts and finishes in Ambleside. One of the best views of it by the way is from the middle of Lake Windermere.

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A Walk up Stone Arthur

It’s not often, hardly ever in fact that you get to see the summit of the hill you are about to climb from your start point. Y Garn in Snowdonia is one such hill that comes to mind (you can read my blog about that walk Here). The hill I am going to walk up today, Stone Arthur is another and pulling on my boots in the lay-by outside Grasmere village I can see it’s rocky top poking up invitingly through the leafless winter trees.

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Red Screes and Middle Dodd

I’m back at Sykeside campsite to complete a walk that was cut short a few weeks ago because of storm Arwen and bad weather. Today’s walk will take in Red Screes and Middle Dodd via Caiston Glen and Scandale Pass. Once again the weather is rather peculiar. For the last few days, high pressure has settled over the whole of the country trapping cold air underneath it and causing a country wide temperature inversion. For days on end there have been cloud inversions in the Lakeland valleys as they remain below freezing but the tops bask in sunshine and warmth. I wonder if these unusual weather patterns are a sign of things to come because of climate change. I am thankful though that we are not having to contend with drought, floods or wildfires as some parts of the World have to.

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High Hartsop Dodd and Little Hart Crag in the Snow

Standing on top of High Hartsop Dodd with the snowfall becoming increasingly heavy I wondered whether history was about to repeat itself. One of the rules I have set myself on this journey through the Wainwright’s is to get a view off each mountain summit. This was the second time I had stood in this very spot in as many months. The first I didn’t count as the cloud came down and obscured the view. Was this second attempt going to go the same way. Should I carry on and hope the forecasted ‘snow shower’ passed or should I turn back yet again?

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Hartsop above How and Dovedale

Last night I stepped out of the campervan at Aira Force and was greeted by a cloudless sky and the sight of the Milky Way above my head. I turned off the headtorch and could see a billion stars, all merged together, stretching out in that distinctive long milky band across the inky black clear night sky. As I stared up, transfixed by the sight and trying to remember the last time I saw this glorious spectacle a shooting star shot straight across the sky burning out over the northern horizon. Light pollution generally stops me seeing the Milky Way so this is a treat and I go to bed marveling at the sheer immensity and beauty of this universe that we all inhabit.

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The Helvellyn Ridge, Dollywaggon Pike to Raise

Starting today’s walk at Dunmail Raise, nearly 800ft above sea level does seem a little bit like cheating. I suppose though, unless you decide to climb every hill from the seaside you’re not starting from zero anywhere, so I comfort myself with this fact as I climb over the stile and head slowly up the hill and away from the traffic noise of the A591. A feature of the eastern fells seems to be giant ferns that often cover the lower slopes and today is no exception with the path forging a thin stone line between a mass of greenery that soaks my trousers with the morning dew. Today’s walk will take me up onto the Helvellyn ridge from Grisedale Tarn which becomes a high level highway taking in Dollywaggon Pike, Nethermost Pike, Helvellyn itself, White Side and finally Raise before dropping down the Sticks Pass into Thirlmere.

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A walk up Seat Sandal

The cloud is hanging low in the valleys as I leave the campsite. It is one of those still, silent Lakeland mornings where even the sheep are silenced by the muffling effect of the mist. Driving past Thirlmere, the water resembles a sheet of glass, the evergreens on the hillside reflecting perfectly in the Mill Pond flatness of the reservoir.

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