A personal journal recording and reflecting on my walks around the world.
It’s the second day of my stay in the little hamlet of Sadgill and I had another silent and restful nights sleep in the van. Yesterday afternoon I walked down Gatescarth pass and this morning I’ll be retracing my steps as I make my way to Harter fell. From there I’ll essentially be walking along the eastern section of the Kentmere horseshoe taking in Kentmere Pike and Shipman Knotts before following the old cart track back to Sadgill.
I arrive at the little hamlet of Sadgill at the far end of Longsleddale just before the sun sets and have the parking area to myself. This long, picturesque valley is situated right on the fringes of Lakeland. Remote, unfrequented and unspoiled there are none of the usual tourist trappings that attract thousands to the honey pots not that far away across the hills. No cafés or gift shops, no zip wires or yurts, no phone signal, just sheep and peace and quiet. And I’m pretty sure the residents like and want to keep it that way. Just before I turn in, I step out of the van and am greeted by total silence and a blackness I have rarely, if ever encountered in this country. Above a cloudless sky all the stars of the heavens were twinkling and the Milky Way stretched from one horizon to the other.
The low morning sun is glistening off the still waters of Haweswater and the bright green evergreens, standing tall like soldiers on a parade ground are reflecting on the water and forming a green sandwich filling between the dark blue of the lake below and the light blue of the cloudless skies above. All was peaceful in my little camper spot last night, I had it to myself, drinking cold beer as I watched the sun go down over Kidsty Pike, which happens to be the first objective of today’s walk. It’s going to be a long one, a circular walk taking in Kidsty Pike, High Raise, Rampsgill Head, The Knott, High Street and finally Mardale Ill Bell. Six tops on what is forecast to be a hot day, so I pack plenty of liquid.
Endings and Beginnings are, as Mufasa might say all part of the great circle of life. My journey through Book One, The Eastern Fells is over, a great experience with memories to last a lifetime and today, I begin my journey through Book Two, The Far Eastern fells. I’ve been looking forward to walking these hills, tucked away on the edge of Lakeland, far away from the honey pots that attract many visitors. Quiet, peaceful, with unfrequented and unworn paths, maybe even grass to walk on and a deer to see. I have thirty six hills to enjoy and I am looking forward to it.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.