Grasmere to Patterdale 8 1/2 Miles
Today turned into a very eventful day for what was meant to be a ‘short’ walking day. Chatted over breakfast in the hostel with Vanetta and Gabrielle and got to know them a bit and then Gwen and I walked into Grasmere for some supplies and some Ginger Bread before setting off at about 10.30am.
The forecast was rain and sure enough about half way up Great Tounge the heavens opened. With the rain came the mist and very soon there was no visibility at all. To cut down on weight I’d only brought the Harvey’s map of the Coast to Coast walk and the Cicerone guide. I also neglected to bring a compass, figuring that after the Lakes it wouldn’t be needed anyway. Of course, you don’t need a 1:25000 map and a compass until you actually need them and by then of course, its way too late. As we got higher up the path on Tounge Gill the wind, which is getting stronger everyday really got up and that, combined with the rain and mist made for unpleasant and arduous walking. Mist in the hills is disorientating at the best of times and when combined with driving rain and wind (and lack of a decent map and compass!) it can make route finding difficult. When you can’t see landmarks that tell you where you are, there is a tendency to walk faster because you want to get to a place that’s familiar, where you don’t feel lost. Mist also seems to ‘foreshorten’ things, you cant see where your heading so you tend to think you are further along the trail than you actually are. If you’re not aware this is happening a feeling of ‘panic’ can then set in and there is a possibility of getting into some real trouble. Having experienced this, not only on my previous journey along the Coast to Coast but over the years on the hills of the British Isles I have learned some valuable lessons. The first lesson obviously is not to panic, easier said than done. Secondly, understand that mist is disorientating and that you are probably not walking as fast as you think you are. Be patient, stay on the path and don’t make rash decisions.
I mention all this to reference a story that I will tell later. (Note. GPS devices are now in abundance which alleviate but in no way eliminate the dangers of route finding and it is always wise to take and know how to read a map and compass when walking in the hills.) Gwen and I carried on walking up Tounge Gill with the wind and rain getting steadily worse. When we got to a flat area I really thought we were at the top of the pass, Grisedale Hause and that I would see Grisedale tarn any minute. Unfortunately we then started to ascend again which started to worry me. I was worried that in the mist we would miss the tarn completely and start going up Dollywagon Pike or Fairfield. I could also see Gwen starting to panic as by now the rain was lashing down and the wind was buffeting us so hard it was becoming difficult to stand up or even talk to each other. Eventually we crossed a broken dry stone wall and the path levelled. I dug out the map and although soaked and with the wind trying to blow us off the mountain made sure we had something to eat. Frustratingly I still couldn’t see the tarn which would have confirmed where we were but could make out two paths, one continuing up and the other down. I felt convinced that we were at Grisedale Hause and although there was no tarn, we were heading down.
After about 20 meters of walking, Praise the Lord! Grisedale tarn came into view with visibility at about three meters. It was a fantastic feeling, hard to describe unless you have experienced being lost in the hills and then finding out exactly where you are, the relief is palpable. The tarn itself had waves on it crashing onto the hillside like the tide coming in such was the ferocity of the wind. Filled with confidence that we now knew where we were and a Snicker bar inside me to give me some sugar we set off along the path down Grisedale. Unfortunately the walk down was to have its own dramas. Where the path crosses the outlet of the tarn there are stepping stones. Today, those stones were buried under a tide of water and waves being whipped up by the wind. We wouldn’t have been able to stand on them anyway without being blown off so we just had to walk across the stream, up to our calfs in the water to cross over. A short while later, I heard a scream behind me and immediately I thought the worst. Turning round, Gwen was lying on the path and I really thought she had broken something. It turns out that the wind had picked her up and blown her about six feet along the path! Thankfully she landed on her bottom and nothing was broken or strained. She and I both then spent a good proportion of the next half kilometre or so on our backsides in order to avoid being blown over. It was, by far, the strongest wind I have ever walked in. Eventually, as we lost height and got away from the funnel effect at the top of Grisedale the wind eased off and we dropped down out of the mist. The remainder of the walk to Patterdale was a walk in the park by comparison and we arrived at the village at 3.15pm. The hostel was shut till 5pm so we retired to the ‘White Lion’ to warm up and enjoy a coffee and cake, all the cares and worries of the day behind us. As it turned out, our adventures were the least traumatic of the day. At the village shop we met up with the three guys from day one, Bob, Bob and Alan. One of the Bob’s had twisted his Knee after being blown over in the wind and wasn’t able to carry on with the walk. He was going to get the bus home the next day. At 9pm Vanetta and Gabrielle arrived at the hostel in company with the Mountain Rescue Team. It turns out that at Grisedale Hause, disorientated in the mist, instead of taking the path down they had taken the path heading up and carried on walking up Fairfield. This was something that I was afraid of doing myself. Some way up the mountain the wind got so strong they couldn’t move and had to lie down. They called Mountain Rescue who collected them, gave them a cup of tea and dropped them off at the hostel! Sadly, the team told us that yesterday a woman had been blown to her death in the high winds. It was a sobering end to the day and a salutary reminder that the hills can be dangerous places at the best of times but in bad weather they can be lethal and they should always command our respect.
For map and route of this walk click ‘Learn more’ below
