A personal journal recording and reflecting on my walks around the world.
It’s summer, or at least that brief moment in time that passes for summer these days. It’s also a Sunday on one of the hottest days of the year so I know today’s walk up Silver How and Loughrigg Fell, two of the lower lying and popular fells around Grasmere is likely to be a busy one.
Continue reading “Silver How and Loughrigg Fell from Grasmere Village”
I’ve had company over the last couple of days. A Robin arrives regularly at the van door looking for food and then repays my benevolence by demanding that I get off its territory. He needn’t worry as I’ll be gone today and he’s fatter than when I arrived. The murk of yesterday has gone and I can see today’s walk from my parking spot. The long southern ridge leading up Steel Fell, the curve around the head of Greenburn leading to Calf Crag, Gibson Knott and finally Helm Crag all look inviting in the morning sunshine. The most dangerous part will be crossing the A591.
I have some personal rules which guide my journey through the Wainwright’s (here) one of these ‘I will get a view from each top’ has already entailed some return visits over the first two books. The awful weather and cancelled plans over the first months of the year have got me thinking that I may have to take more risks with the forecast if I am ever to finish my Wainwright journey before I go to rest with my ancestors. For a man who likes certainty and all his ducks in order it’s an uncomfortable prospect, but here I am, heading up Far Easedale looking up at a cloud topped Tarn Crag hoping that by the time I get there it will be clear. I can hear the roulette wheel spinning.
Commitments and the never ending rain which makes planning clear summit days difficult have kept me away from the hills so far this year. But the weather seems to have finally turned and it looks like spring has arrived, soon to be merged straight into summer. As I park up at High Bridge End the sun is shining, lambs are gamboling in the fields, new life abounds and a chirpy chaffinch heralds my arrival back to Lakeland. The air is fresh and clean and the mountains green and lush. I’ve missed the reassuring presence of these hills and it’s good to be back.
It’s the second day of a settled weather pattern that has brought crisp, calm and freezing weather to Lakeland. There is not a breath of wind and the bright sun shines down from a cloudless azure sky. The air clarity is as clear as crystal. It’s pretty much perfect walking weather and I’m looking forward to my first walk in the Central Fells, a walk up Walla Crag and Bleaberry Fell.
Winter has arrived in Lakeland. Which is a day early for the Meteorological calendar and three weeks early if you’re waiting for the Astronomical calendar. But the evidence of one’s own eyes doesn’t deceive and the hard frost, frozen water and bone chilling temperature is telling me it’s time wrap up warm for the next three months. Today’s walk has an end of term feel to it as I’ll complete my journey through Wainwright’s Book Two, The Far Eastern Fells with a walk up Beda Fell and Angletarn Pikes from Patterdale.
Continue reading “Beda Fell and Angletarn Pikes from Patterdale”
It’s been a while. My summer has been spent elsewhere but the seasons wait for no one and in my absence autumn has arrived. Golden yellow leaves, having enjoyed a brief summer of life are falling to become mulch and then food for leaves waiting to be born. In the cycle of the seasons the land is going to sleep, preparing and protecting itself for the cold dark months ahead. There has been rain, lots of it and the ground is sodden underfoot. Moisture hangs in the air and I can smell the scent of Lakeland on the fresh morning breeze, moss and manure, wood smoke rising from the cottages, comforting and familiar. It’s good to be back.
Place Fell is one of Lakeland’s iconic and best known mountains. The walk up it from Patterdale, one of it’s prettiest villages is a Goldilocks walk, not too long, nor too steep, but just right. It attracts children and grandmothers alike, neither of whom would be inclined to tackle other tops and the view from its small but perfectly formed summit is also one of Lakeland’s finest.
It’s a dank grey day in Lakeland with a cloud filled leaden sky hovering worryingly over it. A day where the monochrome clouds threaten to descend to earth and smother the tops with their blanket of invisibility. Having a self imposed rule that I will see the view from each summit as opposed to only the hand in front of my face has inevitably meant some return visits on my journey through the Wainwright’s. This is because the weather does what it wants and does not seem the slightest bit interested in my needs, wants or desires. If we were in a relationship it would not be a happy one. It’s all good exercise though and as the saying goes, a cloudy day on the hill is still better than a good day in the office, not that I have had occasion to visit the office recently. And so it is in this frame of mind that I set off, more in hope than anticipation towards Rest Dodd and The Nab.
Continue reading “A walk up Rest Dodd and The Nab from Brotherswater”
Putting my boots on in the car park of the Brotherswater Inn, my eyes are drawn upwards to the long straight grassy ridge that leads to the summit of Caudale Moor. Stretching high into the blue sky it gives the mountain the look of a giant green Lakeland pyramid and I wonder what ancient king is buried at its centre. This ridge is my chosen route to the heights today where I’ll be visiting Caudale Moor, (which has a somewhat split personality as it is also known as Stony Cove Pike and John Bell’s Banner) and Hartsop Dodd. The ridge looks pretty steep from the car park but I console myself with the words of Wainwright, who says “Of the many approaches to the summit, this is by far the best”.
Continue reading “Stony Cove Pike and Hartsop Dodd from Brotherswater”