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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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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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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St Sunday Crag via Arnison Crag and Birks

As I leave Side Farm campsite I can see the three hills of my intended days walk perfectly framed by a dry stone wall and some trees across the bottom reaches of Ullswater. It’s the perfect photo and I am drawn to the multiple shades of green that make up the fellside contrasting nicely with the blue sky above and the greenish blue of the lake below. Today’s walk takes in Arnison Crag, Birks and St Sunday Crag before returning to Patterdale via Grisedale.

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Aira Force and Gowbarrow Fell

I last walked up Gowbarrow Fell in the summer of 1992. We were stopping in a holiday cottage in Matterdale and I took a walk up in the late afternoon with my faithful border collie, Hemp. That evening, Mrs E and I watched Linford Christie win gold in the 100m final at the Barcelona Olympics. After my most recent walk up this fell I returned to the campervan to hear that Marcel Jacobs had just won Gold in the 100m final at the Tokyo Olympics. In an even more pleasing act of synchronicity, when I checked the date of Christie’s win, you’ve guessed, it was the very same day, 1st August. I’m looking forward to walking up Gowbarrow Fell on the 1st August 2050 to continue the pattern.

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A walk along the Dodds

It’s a bright, sunny morning and the birds are singing as I’m dropped off at the old coach road at Wanthwaite bridge, the start point of today’s walk. The high pressure weather system that has brought unseasonable Mediterranean heat to our shores continues to linger over the country into a second week and even though it’s early the temperature is already in the mid 20c’s . As soon as I start walking I realise that my poles, instead of being strapped to my rucksack are sitting in the back of the camper. It looks like today is going to be powered by legs only.

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