Lonely fells.

Whilst the weather has been poor I’ve been at the climbing walls – mainly bouldering,  I did have my rope out in earnest yesterday whilst helping my son move house. This involved me belaying as we roped a heavy washing machine and trolley, Laurel and Hardy style, down his steep cellar steps, no casualties of either machine or man. So I have been busy in Manchester for the last few days but he’s established now. Hence the reason for the delayed posting of a dry and sunny day’s excursion last week with Sir Hugh. He had remembered a running circuit used several years ago based on Beacon Fell below Coniston Water and lured me in by promising six Outlying Wainwright’s. The bait was cast.

“When you see someone putting on his Big Boots, you can be pretty sure an Adventure is going to happen.”                                    A. A. Milne,   Winnie-the-Pooh.

We parked in Woodland which consisted of a church, two houses and a postbox in the middle of nowhere. This a secluded part of the Lakes with a maze of quiet narrow lanes. The postbox gets a quirky mention by Wainwright as where he “posted his 1972-3 tax return” 

Green tracks through the thankfully dead bracken soon had us by the modern cairn on Yew Bank, 207m, and then a more ancient doughnut-shaped cairn to the East. We had fun plotting Imaginary paths along the ridge to Fisher High and then down into bog before a surprisingly steep climb up to Beacon Fell, 255m. There was a pleasant lady in-situ at the cairn, she was on a mission to check on their holiday caravan after the storms but couldn’t resist a quick fell top. Sign of a true walker.

Summit of Beacon Fell with Coniston Water below.

Dow Crag and Coniston Old Man in the distance.

Striding towards Beacon Tarn, Wool Knott and Blawith Knott.

Lunch spot.

Throughout the morning we’ve had hazy views of the Coniston Fells and Water, and southwards to Morecambe Bay. Lunch was taken by the beach on Beacon Tarn. To complete our circuit over Wool Knot, Tottlebank Height and Blawith Knott more inspired use of sheep trods was needed. On the last summit, it was increasingly cold and the light was fading so we dropped to Lang Tarn and took a compass bearing straight down a troublesome hillside to Woodland, each man for himself.

Arduous tramping.

Looking back to Beacon Fell.

We both agreed this was a perfect and remote miniature Fell walk, a great little adventure, though I think Sir Hugh was itching to run it again. Apart from Beacon Fell, I suspect few people venture into these fells which is a shame,     6.5 miles and 700m ascent.