Tag Archives: Lake District.

WAINWRIGHT’S WAY – AN INTRODUCTION AND A VIEW OF BLACKBURN’S PAST.

Wainwright’s Way is a 123-mile long-distance route linking the place where he was born, a Victorian terraced house in Audley Range, Blackburn, with his final resting place, by Innominate Tarn on Haystacks in the Lake District.

The walk follows in his footsteps linking his youthful walks, the sights he sketched and wrote about in Lancashire and Westmorland, time in Kendal before entering the Lake District, land of his Pictorial Guides to the Lakeland Fells.

I have obtained a guidebook written by Nick Burton which as well as giving a route description goes into detailed aspects of Wainwright’s life. Nick’s first chapter is devoted to AW’s time in Blackburn and suggests a short tour of the sights that he would have been familiar with. I have already made a ‘pilgrimage’ to his Memorial on the hills above Blackburn and now I’ll explore the town centre.

Wainwright lived in Blackburn from 1907 until  1941. How different the town would have been when he went to school and from the age of 13 worked as a clerk at the Town Hall. Blackburn had been a boomtown based on the cotton industry which was slowly contracting, mills were still dominant and the pollution and noise must have been all invading. Rows and rows of basic housing accomodated the workforce of which many faced poverty in the slumps of the 20s and 30s. The town centre reflected its former glory with buildings of Victorian splendour and daily AW would walk to work at the Town Hall in the centre. So much has changed as Blackburn has been redeveloped but Burton tries to show you a glimpse of AW’s time. There’s not much left. The town seems to have suffered from the bulldozer more than others.

Nick Burton.

The bus station from where he departed for adventures further afield has been moved and the station forecourt ‘modernised’.

The Cathedral stands centre stage, the land around it has become a pleasing open space. There are tombs of past notaries such as the Fielden and Peel families. Queen Victoria’s statue occupies one corner while closer at hand is a modern statue.

Variety theatres have disappeared from hereabouts and the centre is dominated by a large shopping mall cum market. On Darwen Street is the old Post Office now a thriving Wetherspoons.

On a corner is the ornate old Lloyds Bank and then the remains of a Victorian Exchange Arcade. Northgate survives but with a poor selection of shops. Ahead is Gladstone’s statue pointing to King George’s Hall and courts.

Across the way is the impressive terracotta Technical School and behind is the shell of Blakey Moor Higher Elementary School where AW was briefly a pupil in 1919-20 before leaving for a job at the Town Hall.

The Italianate Town Hall is still standing and now connected to a multistorey extension overlooking the statue of W H Hornby a cotton baron who became Mayor in 1857.

Nearby are two other Victorian buildings from AW’s time. The scruffy Cotton Exchange, a cinema in the early 20th century,  and the former Library now a museum.

Georgian Richmond Terrace is mainly legal offices but was built for rich local gentlemen before they moved out to the countryside when the railways came.

James Street retains its cobbles if nothing else.

Alongside St. John’s Church is the earliest church in the town, started in 1789.  Recently run as an arts centre it was gutted by fire earlier this year and looks lost and forlorn. Somewhere in the grounds is a memorial stone to the Thwaites family, local brewers.

Speaking of which their town centre brewery is being demolished since they have moved away. The sight of dray horse waggons a memory. Past the bingo hall, Penny Street has become a large soulless car park next to the new bus station.

Nick Burton suggests a diversion up Old Eanam Road past the old Soho foundry to view a few remaining canalside buildings and wharves. Despite the coming of the railways, there would have still been commercial canal traffic in AW’s time.

 

In Nick Burton’s book, AW’s sketches from his many books are used to supplement the descriptions. I can find none of Blackburn.

Back to the station and time to escape to the country.

 

 

 

 

 

UP THE SPOUT. CARLIN GILL IN THE HOWGILLS.

A walk of two halves, coming with a health warning.

I’ve tagged this post ‘Lake District’ which is not correct but the motorway skirting the Lakes gives most people their only view of The Howgills and that’s as far as it goes for the majority. I would imagine for every thousand walkers setting foot in the Lakes there will be barely one in The Howgills. That view from the motorway shows extensive rounded hills with deeply divided valleys, long fingery ridges radiating from the central mass. The Lune Valley and Mainline Railway share that Western Boundary with the motorway, there is one particularly conspicuous, twisting deep valley leading intriguingly into hidden depths – this is the Carlin Gill.  Photo above.

I arrange a walk with Sir Hugh and suggest The Howgills for somewhere different, he says he has always wanted to explore Carlin Gill. The die is cast.

I have vague memories of walking up the gill to take a look at Black Force and The Spout, two hidden waterfalls. Out comes Wainwright’s ‘Walks on the Howgill Fells’ for guidance,  a few chapters cover parts of our intended route.

Carlin Gill – “The walk cannot be done if the beck is in flood. A half-mile section is a battle against nature in the raw and ends in a desperate scramble. Nonagenarians should think twice before attempting it.”

Part one.

Having parked up by the Gill we are not certain whether ‘the beck is in flood‘ or not, there seems a lot of water in it after recent heavy rain. We set off debating which side we should be on, the best path often on the other bank and sufficient water to deter wading. Sheep trods are followed with slippery rock encountered on steep obstructions. But progress is made, we marvel at the sunny weather, our solitude and surroundings.

The start of Carlin Gill.

The way ahead.

Easy going…

Deeper into the valley we are forced alongside the beck where care is needed to avoid a slip. Soon [it was over an hour] we are alongside the impressive Black Force, a waterfall tumbling down a gully opposite.

 

Getting awkward.

Don’t slip now.

Approaching Black Force.

 

 

 

 

Black Force.

We do not like the look of the scramble up it which is one of our escape routes! So we persist up the gill a few more hundred yards until stood under The Spout, the 30ft waterfall blocking our exit. An impressive place to be. I’m pleased we penetrated so far and would be happy to return the way we came but there are primitive stirrings from Sir Hugh to climb out ‘now we are here’.

Onwards.

In the beck.

Let’s look round the corner.

Wow!

 

 

The Spout.

Wainwright says to climb a crack in the rib to easier ground above the fall, a steep scramble. Neither of us likes the look of the slippery crack or the steep ground above it. The other side of the gill looks as steep. Curiously we don’t think of retreat but convince ourselves of a better way just to the left of Wainwright’s option, some steep grassy rakes avoiding the loose rock. It is only when 15ft up with Sir Hugh clinging to grassy handholds and feet skidding on wet moss that I have a change of heart – “Why don’t we go down?”    “I can’t”  came the reply.

 

Grassy rakes.

Getting steeper.

“I can’t go back.”

Fast forward and I’ve coaxed Sir Hugh back to relative safety and we progress to better handholds – heather rather than moss. The angle eases and we have time to sit and have a team talk about further progress.  Soon we are traversing on sheep tracks above an ever-increasing drop and then it is all over as we arrive at Blakethwaite Bottom a boggy basin.

As exposed as it looks.

Easier ground.

Part Two.

Having defied death all was plain sailing from now on except that we were only halfway up onto the tops. A vague track led up to a vague col where we turned right and were able to stroll alongside each other, discussing the day so far, onto Docker Knott. The views were staggering particularly to the north. Undulations led to Wind Scarth where we had to be careful to keep right avoiding a well-trodden track to The Calf. There are no walls, fences and few cairns up here to help navigation but that is one of the attractions of these open fellsides. An upwards path heads towards a visible cairn on Fell Head at  623m the highest point on the Western Howgills. A couple of fell walkers passed us on the ridge without any conversation, the only people we saw all day. At the cairn, we sat and had some lunch and took in the 360-degree views. Everywhere was clear Morecambe Bay, The Lakeland Fells, distant Galloway, Cross Fell and the Northern Pennines, the Three Peaks, Bowland Hills and possibly far away Snowdonia. Sir Hugh was having a great time with his long zoom lens.

Upwards on Docker Fell.

Looking north.

The Calf.

Heading for Fell Head.

Fell Head looking south to Morecambe Bay.

West towards the Lakes.

Yorkshire Three Peaks.

Careful compass work made sure we were on our way towards the lesser top of Linghaw and onwards over Back Balk with the motorway in the background to arrive back directly to the car parked ironically on Gibbet Hill, we had escaped the gallows on this memorable day’s walk.

Heading down.

The Lune Valley and our car insight.

Well done Sir Hugh, mission accomplished – it will be less steep in The Broads next week!  Check out his post for further photos.

I am now keen to return to the Howgills and explore further but perhaps not in Carlin Gill.

A footnote.

I didn’t mention that a tree at the base of the spout was festooned with Tibetan Prayer flags and strangely a climbing helmet. There were also some ashes scattered on the rocks. Our imaginations ran wild  – was this someone’s favourite retreat or was somebody fatally injured on these rocks?

I’ve just ‘googled’ Carlin Gill Accident without a lot of success except for one accident that happened to Sir Hugh, who had posted that he slipped heavily on a patch of ice near the bridge at the start of the Gill whilst on a simple walk along the lane in winter January 2017. https://conradwalks.blogspot.com/2017/01/tebat-sedbergh-road.html

*****

*****

 

 

 

 

 

NOT THE BEST OF DAYS FOR AN ARNSIDE WALK.

 

As I came off the motorway my car radio was tuned into Radio Lancashire but as I approached Milnthorpe it automatically retuned to Radio Cumbria. This used to be Lancashire, today Arnside is in Cumbria [South Lakeland] whereas Silverdale is still in Lancashire. All very confusing and not very logical geographically. Poor old Westmorland disappeared altogether.

I was greeted with a cup of coffee and a custard pie from the local bakery on arrival at Sir Hugh’s house. It had been my suggestion that we walk around the coast from Arnside to Silverdale and back by Arnside Tower and Knott. It would be a good chance to catch up on recent trips and news.

 

We started on the promenade by The Albion where there is a ‘drinking’ fountain erected in memory of a Richard Moberly Clayton Grosvenor by his grandparents. Aged 4yrs sadly appendicitis killed him in 1903. In the background is the railway viaduct over The Kent.

This is a walk I did on past occasions with my young family and friends usually having lunch in the pub on the shore road in Silverdale. It all seemed different today, the coast has changed and where there were sand and grass there is now mud, and where there were a few caravans there is now a caravan metropolis. The first caravan park at New Barns seemed rather ramshackle but we found a way through, possibly not the most direct, We kept seeing the coast, the tide was out, as we followed woodland paths that came out onto small limestone cliffs.  The slippery limestone was unnerving at times but I followed my guide as he sped off into the mist and rain. At one point we came out onto White Creek, a bay with grassy foreshore. The path through the woods was good and we eventually emerged into another far superior caravan park which went on forever. I reckon that the holiday site is larger than Silverdale itself, it has its own pool, gym, bowling, play areas, bar and shops etc so I wonder how much the Arnside/Silverdale area benefits.

Arnside.

New Barns across the mud.

White Creek

Slippy when wet.

Holgate’s caravan city.

Caves in the Cove.

Silverdale Cove with Morecambe Bay beyond.

Humphrey Head with distant Walney Island.

The day had promised brightening skies but we had by now been walking in light rain for a couple of hours. We started to meet people out walking when we arrived in Silverdale, always a popular spot. A few streets later and we were heading back into fields towards Eaves Wood. As we entered the woods my local guide muttered that he [I wasn’t implicated] might not be able to find the Pepper Pot, a prominent landmark. We did and it was a good spot to stop for lunch whilst it was briefly dry giving good views south over Morecambe Bay and the fells to the east of the M6. The Pepper Pot was built in 1887 to commemorate the Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria, she must have more monuments to her name than any other royal. Also on the escarpment was a view indicator from our present Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, shame they didn’t build a salt cellar.

Artisan gate.

Eaves Wood.

Pepper Pot and viewfinder.

There were paths in all directions, many new to Sir Hugh, and we blundered northwards through trees to suddenly arrive at Arnside Tower one of the medieval Peel towers in the area. [The Scots liked raiding hereabouts] It looked in perilous condition and we gave it a wide birth. The nearby farm had one of the largest herds of cattle in one field that I’ve ever seen.

Head North.

Arnside Tower.

Herds.

Back into the woods and we make our way slowly up Arnside Knott. Nearing the top there is a seat with the best views northwards over to Grange and the Lakeland hills if they had been clear of cloud. We made an obligatory visit to the trig point, one that has been adopted by Arnside Ramblers and given an unusual paint job. There are too many trees up here for views. We found an open field to drop back into Arnside.

Across the Kent to Grange and hidden Lakeland.

Knotted trees.

Adopted Trig

Heading home.

It wasn’t that bad but I need to return when the sun is shining.

*****

 

DEEPER INTO THE FURNESS FELLS – RUSLAND.

From my bedroom window this morning a rainbow greeted me but the weather was set fair for November, the day promised well.

We let Sir Hugh drive us to Rusland Church because he knew the way.  This time it was my idea to visit waterfalls marked on the map in the upper reaches of Hob Gill which feeds into Force Beck, a lonely tarn and remote tracks on a circular route. That was the brief and JD agreed to sacrifice his family fun for the day to join us.

Of course, the weather was perfect as planned. We were straight into the woods on a steeper than expected track over to Force Forge, a group of cottages by Force Beck. In hindsight, this was the most impressive fall of the day. There may have been a forge here but certainly, there were bobbin mills, now holiday lets in an idyllic situation. The surrounding woods had provided charcoal and other woodland products from coppicing and oak bark for tanning. There is an old tannery down the road.

Crossing the road we found an even steeper forest track but were distracted by the Autumn colours. There was a pleasant mixture of ancient woodlands and conifer plantations. The waterfalls I had highlighted on my route turned out to be a small flow falling gently a few feet down the rocky hillside largely hidden by vegetation.

My next objective Wood Moss Tarn was thankfully more dramatic which rescued some of my reputation. Situated in a clearing providing reflected autumn colours across its still surface. We walked around it enjoying different views. The tarn is not present on earlier maps and was created by damning, 1964, for the possible reintroduction of beavers which hasn’t happened, yet.

The forest track we were following disappeared below the fallen leaves but we came out onto a little road as planned. The second half of the day was a contrast with easier walking in walled lanes through pastoral Cumbrian low fell scenery.

Collin Pit Barn.

We took to fields on little-used paths and dropped down to a marshy area where a boardwalk saw us safely through. Signs proclaimed Greenwood Walks which turn out to be part of the interesting ventures of http://www.ruslandhorizons.org/

Coming full circle we crept round the back of Rusland Hall, built 1720, without seeing much of its grounds or facade and past the 1850 stable block.

Only a few fields to cross now but we were faced with a ford over our old friend the Force Beck, where it becomes Rusland Pool, but hidden away in the trees was a small footbridge which gave us safe passage. A stone circle was spotted in an adjacent field, it is not marked on any map and is presumably of modern origin but why?  A final trespass and we reached the road close to the car.

A  hold up on the motorway coming home marred what was a beautiful day’s walk.

 

*****

DEEP IN THE FURNESS FELLS – BETHECAR MOOR.

Between Windermere and Coniston Water is a maze of narrow country lanes and this morning Sir Hugh was navigating skillfully to a parking place deep in the forest. By now I was disorientated, that was part of his plan to take me somewhere new. I was issued with a scrap of paper map with some pink dots on it. Where we had parked was Rusland Church, typical of these small Lakeland parish squat churches. In a quiet corner of the graveyard is the burial-place for Arthur Ransome (1884-1967), and his Russian wife Evgenia. [she had once been Trotsky’s secretary]    He found the churchyard one of the most peaceful places, and asked if he could be buried there under a particular tree, with the sound of the wind in the pine needles. Of course he is most well-known for his ‘Swallows and Amazons’ series of children’s books inspired by this area.

An old track took us over a raise to the next of Sir High’s secrets – Force Mills, a cluster of buildings alongside Force Beck which here divides into two as it tumbles down the hillside. Delightful.

A little way up the road we discovered a waymarked trail following the lively beck and avoiding the tarmac and traffic. We were forced onto the road for a stretch and I realised I’d been here before, Bowkerstead Farm was where my son and grandson camped last year.

Back into the woods on tracks and less used trails where concentration on navigation was needed. The larch trees were beginning to go yellow and lose their needles which gives some variety.

Out of the forest we headed up onto Bethecar Moor. Open fellside with craggy outcrops, views to the Coniston Fells, over to Ingleborough and down to the Leven Estuary, the perfect Lakeland scenery on this perfect sunny autumn day. And there was not a soul in sight.

The spring in our step was slowed when a large bull stood in our way, as I’m cowardly [sensible] we made a marked diversion to avoid it.

On our return leg along little lanes we continued to soak up the atmosphere whilst we chatted away. I can only thank Sir Hugh for the mystery tour I’d just completed. I already have plans to return to the area and delve deeper into the secrets of these forests.

 *****

WHITBARROW SCAR – a day out with Poppy.

My diary records – 22 October 1988. Circuit of Whitbarrow, Chris and Matthew. Glorious day, sunny and warm. 6.5 miles. The weekend before I had been climbing on Castle Rock, Thirlmere, and the next I was off to Morocco, trecking in the Jebel Sahro. Those were the days.

Whitbarrow is a wooded limestone ridge towering above the Kent Estuary prominently seen from across the water on the road to Arnside and its crags driven under on the Barrow road. Wainwright gives it a chapter in his Outlying Fells book. I hadn’t been back since that day so I was pleased when Sir Hugh suggested it for today’s walk. I managed to persuade the Rockman and his dog to come along saying it would be a short trip as Sir Hugh is recovering from a broken elbow and is only just using his walking poles. The morning was dreadful with floods developing from the torrential downpour but by the time we met up at Mill Side, there was a glimpse of something better. The keenest member of the party was Poppy the Airdale Terrier.

What followed was a switchback route through woods, steep slippery slopes, glorious open ridge walking and first-class limestone scenery. The Rockman and I just followed the intrepid Sir Hugh who was obviously rejoicing in his newfound freedom, at times we all had to be careful not to suffer any further injury. Some paths I think were known only to him. Poppy jogged along contentedly and took all the considerable obstacles in her stride, though she seemed happiest when we stopped for lunch at the highest point, Lords Seat,

We completed a figure of eight course which included a close encounter with the base of Chapel Head Scar, a bastion of limestone hosting difficult sports climbs. I had never climbed here and I never will when I realised the grades. However, above the crag, reached by a precipitous path, is a beautiful meadow which seemed perfect for a summer bivi looking out to the west over the Kent Estuary. There are paths everywhere and the whole area is worthy of further exploration, I particularly would like to walk closer under the southern White Scar cliffs which we seemed to miss by being in the woods, hereabouts our legs and conversation were just beginning to drag for the last half mile.

 

LONG SCAR DILEMMAS.

“Lower me down” – I had reached my dilemma. I couldn’t figure a way directly up the groove which was threatening to push me off and I was having trouble pulling on the flake high to my right which was the alternative. I had only come for an easy day and that reach was paining my stiff shoulder, even stiffer later! Fortunately I wasn’t on the lead and had the luxury of a top rope which slowly deposited me back in a heap at the base of the climb which happened to be named Katie’s Dilemma, I know how she felt. Dave and Rod proceeded without me.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                         Dave solving Katie’s Dilemma.

 

I’m often accused of overusing the word super in my enthusiasm – well today was super. [excellent, first rate, remarkable, marvellous, wonderful, glorious, exquisite, perfect, splendid  —  I could try some of these in future.]  The sky was blue, the air clear, the sun was shining, the temperature was 24º and this is the English Lake District.

We had braved the tortuous narrow lanes up to the summit of Wrynose Pass and parked up next to the Three Shires Stone. This boundary stone marks the spot where historically the counties of Lancashire, Cumberland and Westmorland met. The stone has a history of its own. Cut in Cartmel from limestone in 1816 for a William Field, the Furness roadmaster but not erected until 1860. The front of the stone is inscribed with Lancashire and the reverse W.F. 1816, no mention of the other counties. Apparently it was smashed into four pieces in a car accident in 1997, restored and re-erected in 1998.  It shows its scars today and Cumbria has taken over.

A made up path winds its way up the fell across boggy ground on the skirts of Pike O’Blisco. This is an area where the carnivorous Sundew plant may be found, a fact I learnt one previous trip to Long Scar when botanists were scouring the ground on their hands and knees. We saw none today and I suspect they are quite rare. The crag soon comes into sight as an eponymous long scar below Black Crag. The rock looked clean and dry and we had the place to ourselves for most of the day. The volcanic rock is roughly textured although in the central popular area there is erosion, possibly from group use, and the climbs here are becoming a little shiny; nevertheless this is where like lemmings we started.                                                          Rod’s dilemma – which groove?

In the past we had climbed all these routes so we soon spread further along the crag and that’s how I found my dilemma. Anyhow we were basking in the sun and enjoying the views – the nearby Wetherlam range, Crinkle Crags, the far off Windermere, the hikers below us and the occasional plane flying low through the gap. More climbs were enjoyed and life was good.                                       Great Carrs, Wetherlam and Coniston Old Man.


                                                                      Crinkle Crags.

 

For the usual record —

Platt Gang Groove. VD. Rod had his own dilemma as to which groove was which.                             Direct Start Old Holborn VD.                                                                                                                Katie’s Dilemma MVS.                                                                                                                               Billy’s Climb MS.                                                                                                                                      Green Treacle HS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WARTON PINNACLE CRAG.

On the border of Lancashire and Cumbria is a wooded hillside, Warton Fell, prominently seen from the M6. A great gash of the fell has been taken out by a large quarry, a scary place to climb. Above in the woods are limestone outcrops which dry quickly and give short climbs on some quality rock. It has rained most of this week but the forecast is improving so it was time for a revisit. The Pinnacle Crag was our aim. The paths seem to be disappearing under vegetation and it is not till the last minute that any sign of cliffs appear.

We are back up to a team of three as Rod has returned from the States and also we are joined by Sir Hugh as an interested spectator, bits of his body having curtailed his climbing. Talk about last of the summer wine but we did about 10 routes so not a bad effort. They were all in the VD-S range but each one was steep and cruxy.

Rod, Dave and Sir Hugh.

Rod, Dave and Sir Hugh.

The first buttress we arrived at was a bit gloomy but the rock was excellent and we squeezed three lines out of it; Simian VD, Free Stile HS, and Ming S.

Simian.

Simian.

We moved over to the main area, Plumb Buttress, to get some sun and eat lunch. Above us reared The Big Plumb, HVS 5c, tackling a large bulge and then steep rock, I could only ever do it by constructing a cairn of stones to start, not today thanks. After a couple more minor lines Rod worked out the sequence to start Lone Tree Groove which gave steep climbing on clean rock which has become polished on the crucial holds. I then enjoyed a couple of severes on the left wall climbed mainly on perfect flakes, Flake and Wall and Clare’s Crack. The descent route down a gully is becoming very polished and care is needed.

Heading for the Lone Tree.

Heading for the Lone Tree.                               [Credit Sir Hugh]

Clare's Crack. Credit Sir Hugh.

Clare’s Crack.                                                     [Credit Sir Hugh.]

Another pair of local climbers and their friendly dog were in the area and added to the sociability of the day.

Team X on Flake and Wall.

Team X on Flake and Wall.

We finished off with two nice short routes round and down to the left, the arete Gremp S and the flaky Skutch VD, and never made it to the actual pinnacle.

The day had been sunny and warm, the views to the Lakes across Morecambe Bay were clear, there was as much chat as climbing and at the end of the day we were well satisfied wandering back down to the village. Simple pleasures.

 

Sir Hugh’s account may be found here – https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1365582190126322848&postID=5013355740371114281

LANGDALE CLIMBING – first visit to White Crag.

From time to time my friend Mark phones for a day’s climbing whilst his school pupils sit exams or he is ‘officially’ marking papers – these outings have become known as ‘Marking Days’. So it was this week when we met up late morning in the carpark of a local curry house.  He had just acquired a camping van and proudly showed me round. The forecast was for thundery rain in the afternoon but we risked a trip up to Langdale to have a look at White Crag. I must have walked above this outcrop so many times on my way up to Gimmer without being aware of its existence. The valley was quiet with only one team on Raven Crag when we passed under it and then followed a level track to the lower of the two White Crag buttresses, a gentle 15mins.

Approaching the lowest White Crag.

Approaching the lowest White Crag.

Immediately two lines stood out  – the grooves of Bee Line and the Bumble Arete.                   Mark set off up the grooves which were cleaner than they appeared to a small overlap where a neat step up and left gained a wall with smaller holds, we didn’t think Bee Line, HS, warranted  a 4c grade.

Mark onto the arete of Bee Line.

Mark onto the arete of Bee Line.

Bumble Arete, VD, was pure joy – a little wall brought me suddenly onto the arete which had the best of holds all the way to the top, 60ft up. Worth the two stars.

Bumble Arete on the right.

Bumble Arete on the right.

Well satisfied we were having a snack when the boom of thunder filled the valley, the sky darkened and ominent  large rain drops splattered the rock. We sat tight for a while and thankfully the storm rumbled off to some other unfortunate Lakeland valley. So it was time to have a look at the upper crag which has only recently been  developed.

Once again obvious  lines on excellent rock promised good climbing.  Left Trouser Leg People, MVS, was brilliant, Easy rocks soon had Mark at the cruxy  move onto a slab and up into the left groove and a lovely finish round the overhang on jugs.We found a sneaky chain abseil which greatly eased the evenings climbing.

Move onto slab.

Move onto slab.

Juggy finish.

Juggy finish.

I couldn’t wait to get onto  Val Ferret, HS, just left, a groovy groove, a spicy layback and juggy finish. A grade easier but also worth two stars.

My sandwich box with  its tasty quiche was missing when we sat down to rest, left at lower crag no doubt, so my weight loss diet had a jump start.

Next was  Right Trouser Leg People, VS, a tricky wall lower down and  an absorbing groove higher up. A quick abseil and onto the thin slab of Langdale Ferrets, VS, with its steep finish.

Awkward slab on Lakeland Ferrets.

Awkward slab on Lakeland Ferrets.

Finishing Lakeland Ferrets.

Finishing Lakeland Ferrets.

As we gazed out over the green fields and rough hillsides opposite we seemed to be the only people in the valley.  A perfect end to a great days climbing. I will definitely return to these lovely unknown crags.

By the time we were back in Preston I was too weary for a curry but thanked them for the parking.      Roll on the next ‘Marking day’.

 

WAINWRIGHT’S OUTLYING FELLS – The Final Chapter.

The Bannisdale Horseshoe.

Lonely tramping.

By pure serendipity Sir Hugh and I had left this circuit to finish off our Winter tramps around these fells, it was AW’s last chapter also…  “take a companion who is agile enough to run for help… God be with you.”

With careful planning we parked up the hidden Bannisdale valley at Dryhowe Bridge reducing the day’s mileage. But six hours later we had tramped across eight and a half miles of grass with 3000ft of ascent. The ridge was broad and tussocky but the ground is thankfully drying out. A few cairns marked the indistinct tops and our view most of the day was northwards to the higher Kentmere fells. On the return leg a trig. point appeared on White Howe and from here were views over Kendal to the coast at Arnside, I think I could spot Sir Hugh’s house. These are remote fells and will not see many walkers. At last the temperature has improved and we enjoyed sunshine all day, you wouldn’t want to be here on a rainy or misty one.

Bannisdale.

Bannisdale.

Longsleddale and the distant Kentmere skyline

Longsleddale and the distant Kentmere skyline.

"agile enough"

“agile enough to run for help”

South from White Howe.

South from White Howe.

A few words about Sir Hugh – a good friend of several years initially climbing together, a fanatical long distance walker, dependable and enthusiastic to the end,  despite his dodgy knees I just manage to keep up with him. The Outlying Fells have been  a worthwhile project and given us good times out together, my appreciation of the area has been definitely broadened. May I have a rest now?

 

The completed Wainwright Outlying Fells.

The completed Wainwright Outlying Fells.

 

Two classics on Raven Crag, Langdale.

 

We have seen better days.

As You Like It.   W Shakespeare.                                                                                                                     400th anniversary of the Bard’s death today.

The Old Dungeon Ghyll car park had a space for us despite a relatively late arrival. Whilst sorting the gear a man approaches me with a confident ” I know you” I look puzzled and he adds “Bradford climbing”. Still no recollection on my part I suspect mistaken identity but I add that by chance I had been out walking the day before with Conrad, who started his climbing days with the Bradford crowd. That brought an immediate response from this pleasant fellow – “not Conrad Robinson”  It transpired he knew him well and our conversation broadened to all things Yorkshire and days gone by. I still don’t think we had any connection but the other coincidences were strange and I later discovered even stranger as Conrad had the day before been talking of climbing trips past and how one friend was a great joker – the very man we were now talking to. Sadly neither climb any more.

Up at the crag several groups were on the main face so we went round the corner to the prominent buttress which hosts  Centipede. 90m S **   Rod made short work of the steep start up which I struggled to join him at the giant flake. I knew I was not performing well on this my first route of the year, missing out on the climbing walls in favour of walking had me ill-prepared. Nonetheless I grabbed the gear and poked about on the flake. One has to achieve a standing position on its top and then make an unprotected hard pull into a steep groove before a mantelshelf move. After time spent faffing trying to throw a sling over the flake my resolve had vanished and I backed off. Rod made it all look very easy and joined the next two pitches together. I was glad nobody witnessed my subsequent nervous attempt on that flake, knees playing a big part. I think I would have taken a fall if I’d continued at the sharp end.  My complete lack of confidence had thoughts of never climbing again in my head, definitely had seen better days. After a traverse there is a lovely slabby arete and I began to think more clearly, relax, place my feet more precisely on the rough rock and almost enjoy the situation.  Having calmed down I went on to lead up the much easier long last pitch of mainly scrambling and enjoyed the belay perch high on the crag with views down Langdale, looking resplendent in the Spring sunshine.

Centipede buttress - the obvious overhang is les than halfway up the route.

Centipede buttress – the obvious overhang is less than halfway up the route.

 

After lunch the main face provided The Original Route. 60m. S ***  I was all too happy to second the whole climb and see if my form had returned. No – I found the first pitch was steep and awkward with poor gear and the pillar above even trickier. I must have climbed this route many times in the past and never been troubled, when have severes seemed so hard. Rod climbed the magnificent steep top wall all in one pitch and I coped better. All we had to face then was that awkward down climb by the tree on the descent, more faffing by myself but I’m still alive.

High on the last pitch of The Original Route.

High on the last pitch of The Original Route.

We reflected on the perfect warm day for climbing on this commanding crag with these two superb routes. In the past I wouldn’t have been content without another route or two but now I was happy to descend and lick my wounds. Hopefully there are better days to come.

 

 

 

OPEN SKIES OVER SWINDALE.

Today’s fells really need to be experienced in person, preferably in the gorgeous weather we were blessed with. Photographs hardly do justice to the feeling of the wide-open spaces which we even compared to the skies over the Broads. There are endless miles of undulating hills sitting on the very edge of the Lakes.  AW writes – “a worthwhile expedition on a clear day, not so much for the views, which are dreary and uninspiring, as for the exhilaration of new territory, solace of solitude and beneficial exercise”    Exactly.

Sir Hugh’s choice of parking proved to be fortuitous as other approach roads seemed blighted by works. A simple climb over our first Outlier – Langhowe Pike – with its views down Swindale, where we picked up the corpse road which climbed its way from Mardale into this valley and then on to the church in Shap and consecrated burial ground. I was on another corpse road last week which came from Wasdale, past Burnmoor Tarn to Eskdale.

NW Water is undertaking a lot of work in the Swindale catchment area and things are a bit of a mess still. The last time  I was here to climb on Gouther Crag the footbridge was being lifted away in front of our eyes,  its replacement is completely out of place. Thankfully higher up the original stepping stones are still there. Chatting to a local man it seems that not everyone is happy with the Swindale works, the two higher farms have been bought by the waterboard and are now unoccupied, there has been a lot of fencing erected on open ground and much tree planting on the fells. I would have thought that the latter is good for the environment and should visually be of benefit in a few years.

Swindale from Langhowe Pike.

Swindale from Langhowe Pike.

Anyhow on with the walk up beautiful Swindale. A cyclist was masochistically pushing a bike up the corpse road as it climbed to Mardale. We entered a world of drumlins at the head of the valley before a brutal 1000ft climb up to Nabs Moor and onto Howes.  My altimeter ran out of juice at this point so I couldn’t confirm the days total, I suspect about 3000ft. From up here we had views down to Mosedale and its MBA cottage. A lazy lunch was taken by a playful stream, the sunshine delaying our departure.

Drumlins at the head of Swindale.

Drumlins at the head of Swindale.

Mosedale.

Mosedale.

Looking back to Howes.

Looking back to Howes.

 

The next group of hills High Wether Howe, Fewling Stones, Seat Robert and Great Ladstones proved a tiring round with many boggy depressions but the blue skies made up for it and we chugged along but were nonetheless pleased to see the car in the late afternoon.

Onwards from Higher Wether Howe.

Onwards from Higher Wether Howe.

Contemplating past glories from Seat Robert.

Contemplating past glories from Seat Robert.

 

'The Road goes ever on and on' Lord of the Rings.

‘The Road goes ever on and on’   Tolkien  Lord of the Rings.

 

CROOKDALE HORSESHOE – to the west of Shap summit.

From the Crookdale Horseshoe looking north yo the Longsleddale fells.

From the Crookdale Horseshoe looking north to the Longsleddale and Mardale fells.

More Wainwright Outliers with Sir Hugh.

I refer to the Shap summit on the old A6. This was the major route up to Scotland on the west coast before the Motorway opened in 1970. On our drive up from Kendal, we recalled the infamous Jungle Cafe once popular with the HGV drivers, I think the site is now a caravan sales. The ‘Leyland Clock’ which stood by the roadside nearer the summit has also gone and is now restored in the Brewery Arts Centre, Kendal. I hadn’t realised that it stood at the halfway point from Land’s End to John O’Groats. We parked up in a layby, near the summit, where there is an interesting memorial mounted on a substantial lump of pink Shap granite.

Pictures are taken from http://www.trucknetuk.com

A subsequent visit to The Brewery, Kendal, produced these two pictures.

My diary from 1974 shows that on August 26th I did a similar round as today’s but also including the more distant Harrop Pike. 12 mile in 4 hours in cloud and showers, I have no recollection whatsoever. Our more leisurely 6 hours today must reflect on the 40 odd years I’ve accumulated.

The walk today was in sun with clear views. The going could only be described as heavy most of the way. We combined AW’s Wasdale and Crookdale circuits which effectively was a true Crookdale Horseshoe. The northern leg was Whatshaw Common, Little Yarlside and Great Yarside, the latter just under 2000ft. We then had an interesting traverse across the head of Crookdale successfully avoiding the worst of the bogs. This brought us on to the southern ridge of Lord’s Seat, Robin Hood and finally High House Bank. Vast expanses of grass with the odd little crag to break up the monotony. Good conversation filled in the gaps. Views into the Lakes were restricted by the closer Longsleddale and Mardale Fells but there were extensive views to the Pennines and Howgills. Most interesting were birds’ eye glimpses into the hidden valleys of Wasdale, Crookdale and the larger Borrowdale.

Great Yarlside from Little Yarlside.

Great Yarlside from Little Yarlside.

Unusual Trig. Point on Great Yarlside.

Unusual Trig. Point on Great Yarlside.

Upper Crookdale.

Upper Crookdale.

View into Borrowdale from the last summit - High House Bank.

View into Borrowdale from the last summit – High House Bank.

We never met another person.

P.S.  16 to go.

Wainwright’s Outliers – three courses in Eskdale.

Eskdale with Scafell behind.

Today was another of motoring and quick isolated summits, so I went alone. After last week’s snow there was sunshine and warmth, the birds thought it was Spring.

Starter – Muncaster Fell.

I walked along Muncaster Fell in December 1997 on a two day Ravenglass – Shap walk but I had no idea whether I visited the trig point or not. So from the convenient parking for the  Castle, I was soon up the bridleway and at the stone OS trig. point.  Obvious views down to the coast at Ravenglass were far outweighed by the mountains to the north.

Muncaster Fell from the south.

Muncaster Fell from the south.

From Muncaster Fell to the coast.

From Muncaster Fell to the coast.

Main course – Boat How. 

The hamlet of Boot in middle Eskdale doesn’t lend itself to parking, There are two pubs, parking for clients only, and I won’t go into one of them ever since Tony [tea drinker extraordinaire] and I were refused a top-up of hot water to our afternoon teapot after a day climbing on the immaculate pink granite of the area. So that left The Boot Inn, Stuart the owner was only too happy to let me park. I used the crunchy pink granite bridleway signed Burnmoor Tarn as far as an isolated barn, until here my running shoes were perfect but once heading up to the fell top on the decidedly boggy ground I had doubts. What I thought was the summit turned out to be the distant Illgill Head and I was soon on the actual rocky top of Boat How. Scafell and Wasdale dominated but Harter Fell and surrounding rocky fellsides of Eskdale were dramatic. There was a peep into the secretive Miterdale – how many have walked that valley? Continuing west along the squelchy [this year’s favourite adjective] ridge what I thought were people turned out to be a stone circle, in fact, there were several. Was this land as barren in their time or was it forested? On the way down a group of abandoned barns were passed reminiscent of a Swiss scene. To put some money into the local community and as a way of thanks, I enjoyed a pint and some homemade soup in The Boot Inn, my sandwiches remaining in the rucksack.

The old corn mill at Boot.

The old corn mill at Boot.

Boat How's rocky crest.

Boat How’s rocky crest.

Scafell dominating Burnmoor Tarn

Scafell dominating Burnmoor Tarn

Stone circle.

Stone circle.

Derelict barns.

Derelict barns.

Dessert – Irton Pike.

A quick drive and I was parked under this little fell. Tree felling was in progress everywhere because of the fungus Phytophthora ramora and the place looked a mess. After a few false starts, I found a little path winding up, this must be the steepest way onto any of the outlying fells. The surprisingly open top again highlighted the mountains of Wasdale,  I noticed how close I was to the infamous Ponsonby Fell. From below came the whistle of the steam train chugging up Eskdale to Boot.

Irton Pike above the forestry chaos.

Irton Pike above the forestry chaos.

Lovely Wasdale vista.

Lovely Wasdale vista.

By the roadside is this sobering memorial……

Home for coffee.

 

Wet Sleddale Horseshoe – the clue is in the name.

 

Sleddale Hall and reservoir.

Sleddale Hall and reservoir.

Sir Hugh and I were the first on the carpark next to the damn of Wet Sleddale Reservoir. Thankfully the day was bright and clear, this would be a miserable place in the mist or rain. At one time there was a plan to flood the whole valley – I can see why. Forget about any tracks shown on the OS map the way up to Wasdale Pike was one long squelch. Grouse butts accompanied us and a ‘lunch hut’ passed to relieve the monotony. The summit of Wasdale Pike had a decent cairn and views over Shap to Cross Fell and in the other direction to High Street, the snow melted from these slopes as the day wore on.

Pathless to Wasdale Pike.

Pathless to Wasdale Pike.

Shap with Cross Fell behind.

Shap with Cross Fell behind.

Over the bogs to High Street.

Over the bogs to High Street.

Our next objective was a prominent pink granite block – named Gray Bull. It was duly mounted in recognition of our distant bouldering venue, Great Bullstones in Bowland.

Gray Bull.

Gray Bull.

 

More squelching and Sleddale Pike, Great Saddle Crag and Ulthwaite Rigg were ticked off, it was that sort of a day.

Bog hopping in WET Sleddale.

Bog hopping in WET Sleddale.

 

You don't fall in here, it really was that colour.

You don’t want to fall in this, it really was that colour.

Then with some relief, we quickened our pace on the bridleway coming out of Mosedale and heading down to Sleddale Hall. Below here were walled deer enclosures [according to AW]  a packhorse type bridge over a lovely narrow gorge and a clapper bridge from older times.

Old Deer Enclosures?

Old Deer Enclosures?

New packhorse bridge.

New packhorse bridge.

Old Clapper Bridge.

Old Clapper Bridge.

AW’s Outlying Fells was “written primarily for old age pensioners” yet this was a tough walk for anybody. About 9 miles and 1700ft ascent.  I can hardly believe that Sir Hugh used to run around this circuit in days gone by – but he has the evidence…                                                               http://conradwalks.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/wet-sleddale-horseshoe-plus-wasdale.html

In my evening bath I thought I could discern webbing developing between my toes.

 

Green Quarter – walking the calories off.

Today’s news had ‘experts’ calling for food packaging to be labelled stating how much exercise a person would need to do to burn off the calories. Packet of crisps 30mins walk, piece of cake 1hour walk etc. How long for a fish and chip supper? I can’t see the food industry backing this proposal, they never do. As I drove up Kentmere for today’s walk I wondered how you equate these times to a strenuous fell walk, I’d had a bowl of cereal – 25mins. There is a proliferation of no parking signs throughout the village now, apparently a victim of its own popularity. I managed to squeeze in by the village hall and contributed to their funds. As most walkers headed up the valley I turned and headed the other way using a bridleway to circle Green Quarter, a featureless hill overlooking the village. This brought me a view over Skeggles Water, a totally tranquil scene with only skylarks and a buzzard for company. Not having been here before I settled on a convenient boulder for morning coffee.

Green Quarter above Kentmere.

Green Quarter above Kentmere.

Isolated Skeggles Water.

Isolated Skeggles Water.

Morning coffee.

Morning coffee.

An easy climb up to the summit of Green Quarter [Hollow Moor] in bright sunshine but with the Kentmere Horseshoe ahead already in threatening clouds. [a little later I was in unpleasant but short lived sleet] A group of fell ponies grazed the subsidiary top and provided good foreground for Kentmere photos. The farmer appeared with his trailer full of hay and he cheerfully chatted about his no doubt hard life up here.

The Kentmere Horseshoe.

The Kentmere Horseshoe from Hollow Moor, Green Quarter.

Lunch arrives.

Lunch arrives.

Kentmere farmstead.

Kentmere farmstead.

I was back down within two and a half hours – now what can I have for lunch?

Wainwright Outliers – back of beyond.

Flat Fell and Dent.

I’m sure the residents of Cleator Moor don’t consider themselves ‘back of beyond’ but that was my impression when I passed through this morning. It had taken me nearly 2 hours to drive to this side of The Lakes, the streets looked empty and forlorn, festooned with TV satellite dishes. This is probably a popular local walk, however everyone now seems to park at the top of Nannycatch Road as I did to walk a shortened version of AW’s route.

Cleator Moor with Dent above.

Cleator Moor with Dent above.

Flat Fell was flat.  But had the benefit of a sudden revelation of the Loweswater, Ennerdale and Scafell ranges, poor conditions for photos.

When I was back down into the hidden if not exactly remote, Nannycatch Valley signs for the Coast to Coast route appeared and took me up the steep side of Dent. Can’t remember climbing up here fully laden on the penultimate day of our east-west crossing in 1979, must have been a struggle. My diary tells me that we wild camped in the woods above Cleator Moor before finishing the next morning. Also, it states that the average charge for a farm campsite was 30p.  I took a direct moss cushioned hillside to my car and drove to Coldfell Gate. On the way, at Egremont,  passing Florence Mine the last working deep iron ore mine in Europe until closed in 2007 and now an arts centre. The miners were known as The Red Men from the haematite dust.

Nannycatch valley.

Nannycatch valley.

From Dent looking over Flat Fell to Ennerdale.

From Dent looking over Flat Fell to Ennerdale.

The mossy way.

The mossy way.

Florence Mine.

Florence Mine.

Cold Fell.

Cold Fell was cold and had no merit whatsoever. What was I doing here Mr AW?

Cold Fell summit?

Cold Fell summit?

Back at the car the weather was changing, cloud and dampness, and I was losing my resolve. It was only the thought of the petrol costs to get here that had me drive through lanes to my next objective. My radio told me England we’re collapsing in the world T20 final against the W. Indies, Leicester were winning again in the Premiership, and European agricultural pollution was affecting the SE. [May not be that easy to exit from Europe after all]

Ponsonby Fell.

For convenience, I chose a way up from Stakes Bridge in the Calder Valley. This is sheep country and the farmers were out on lambing duties. Enclosed fields reminiscent of the Dales took me to the open fellside leading to the plain top. Scafell crag appeared briefly. The weather had improved, could the rise in temperature have anything to do with nearby Sellafield?  From up here you see the full size of the complex.

Heading off the hill I was impressed with the enclosing walls made of sandstone with a capping turf full of ferns and moss.

In a field was a Larsen magpie trap, these are legal in appropriate circumstances, complete with a live magpie as bait. The logic is simple – another bird is attracted and trapped – shoot the first and start again. A friend of mine employed one in his garden and quickly caught a bird. He didn’t have the heart to kill it so drove it ten miles away and released it, I wonder who was back first.

Ponsonby Fell.

Ponsonby Fell.

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Distant Wasdale from Ponsonby Fell.

Distant Wasdale from Ponsonby Fell.

I was back at the car as the rain started, mission accomplished.

AW states “there are no fells not worth climbing, but Ponsonby  Fell is very nearly in this category…” Actually, I quite enjoyed my circuit and found much of interest. Methinks he doth protest too much and should have directed his comments to Cold Fell.

Ever present Sellafield.

Ever-present Sellafield.

 

 

 

Wainwright Outliers – get your five-a-day.

I realised I was well north when Radio Lancs transformed into Radio Scotland. There was a lot of fresh snow and judging from the puddles it had been a wild night. I arrived at my first objective after an hour and a half driving and waited in the car whilst a sleet shower passed through. I was planning a day mopping up five scattered Wainwright outlying fells in the Northern Lakes to save motoring mileage, none of them really justified separate trips.  Seven hours later, and in far better weather, I had completed the task and was on my way south.

Faulds Brow, Caermote Hill, Clint Crags, Watch Hill and Dunmallard.

This area is a quiet backwater – ‘do you ken John Peel’  the huntsman, not the DJ, born and buried in Caldbeck.  From Faulds Brow, I had views over farming land down Bassenthwaite, past Skiddaw into the snowy central fells and to the north the Solway Firth with Crifell prominent. I parked up next to Caermote Roman Fort but could see little of it and was soon on the top of the Caermote Hill with its ‘memorial boulder’. Two local families are remembered. Routledge and Dean.  An extension to St. John’s Hill revealed little.

Undistinguished Faulds Brow.

Undistinguished Faulds Brow.

Caermote Hill.

Caermote Hill.

'Memorial stone' with Crifell in the background.

‘Memorial stone’ with Crifell in the background.

Bassenthwaite from Caermote.

Bassenthwaite from Caermote.

I was in need of a coffee and was pleased to find by the roadside the excellent Great Escape Cafe in Moota Garden Centre – a seasonal hot cross bun was a boost.  This place has an interesting history – a former second world war German prison camp. It is not mentioned as to whether any did escape. Apparently, there was a chapel on-site with paintings from the prisoners, what a shame nothing has been saved.

Next, I was on Clint Crags but couldn’t be sure of the highest point which seemed to be on the edge of a limestone quarry. More interesting were the limestone pavements below – they were obvious but covered in moss to give them a unique atmosphere. Why are other pavements elsewhere cleaner? On this hillside, there were several, what looked like new, shake holes possibly as a result of all the rain.

Mossy clints.

Mossy clints.

'New shakehole'

‘New shakehole’

My drive to the next group of hills took me past the Norman St. Michael’s Church at Isel, unfortunately, it was closed because of flooding. The daffodils in the grounds were at their best. It is unusual for a church to be situated so close to a river liable to flooding. There are signs everywhere regarding red squirrels but I didn’t spot any.  More of a problem the lane I was taking was signed as closed due to work on the bridge over the River Derwent – more flood damage. But luck would have it that at the very moment I arrived they took down the barriers having completed the repairs thus saving me a lengthy detour.

The walk up Watch Hill and onto the higher Setmurthy Common was the best of the day. A delightful grassy promenade in the sunshine with Cockermouth and the coast behind and views into the Loweswater Fells. I managed to find a quick way back to the car using mountain bike tracks down through the plantations.

Watch hill to Setmurthy Common with a brooding Skiddaw.

Watch hill to Setmurthy Common with a brooding Skiddaw.

These quiet backwaters would be worth exploring in a more leisurely fashion. But today the busy A66 took me down Bassenthwaite, past Keswick and to Pooley Bridge. Here the destroyed bridge, dating from 1754, has been temporally replaced with a Bailey one, just completed last week and bringing life back to this community. The floods this winter have been devastating and Wainwright’s sketch of the old bridge now has added nostalgia. It cost me £2 to park which seemed expensive for the 30mins walk up and down Dunmallard. Surprisingly I saw deer grazing in the woods and a woodpecker was spotted close by. That was the only plus as the summit is completely tree covered so what would have been fine views down Ullswater are now denied.

Wooded Dunmallet.

Wooded Dunmallard.

My Winter project to visit all the Outlying Fells in Wainwright’s book is proving interesting, but is now running into Spring, too many other distractions.

A long day and unfortunately a long post.

NADDLE FOREST CIRCUIT.

The sun is shining once more as I collect Sir Hugh for another Wainwright Outlying day. I turn up in my new car which has the letters MCV on the tailgate, I couldn’t explain them, so he quickly googled and came up with – Manoeuvre Combat Vehicle (機動戦闘車 kidou-sentou-sha) is a wheeled tank destroyer of the Japan Ground Self-defence Force!  We hadn’t destroyed anything when we parked on the lonely road at the entrance to Swindale. There is no easy access into the Naddle Valley, and we never saw another person all day. we were soon on the first top, Scalebarrow Knott, with clear views back to the Cross Fell group and the closer limestone Knipescar. I think underfoot we had crunchy granite. Tracks led up to the cairn on Harper Hills on the very edge of the deciduous trees creeping up from Naddle Valley. Our next landmark was supposed to be a chimney over the wall, we were lucky to spot it in the trees. Probably has been the gable end of some long-forgotten building.

Our first summit - Scalebarrow Knott.

Our first summit – Scalebarrow Knott.

Distant High Street.

Distant High Street.

Rough walking then took us up to the sprawling Hare Shaw, a cairn and my altimeter suggested we were at the summit. From here Gouther Crag could be seen down in Swindale, memories of The Fang and Bloodhound climbs. Ahead were remnants of snow gullies on High Street and Harter Fell. The triangular Kidsty Pike was prominent and brought forth our reminiscences of the C to C walk done many years ago.

Distant Gouther Crag with Truss and Fang Buttresses visible.

Distant Gouther Crag with Truss and Fang Buttresses visible.

Now down to the navigational ‘handrail’ of a wall which led us onto Naddle Forest ridge. A high hurdle gave us food for thought, climb it, pole vault it, lift off the top section or more simply just open the lower section.

There was no defined ridge and we wandered about on sheep tracks. Remnants of the forest were all around us, and it was gratifying to see much new planting which should change the appearance of the fell in 10 years time. We need these trees and more to combat our flooding problems. A couple of small cairns on nameless summits 435 m and 433 m were passed and then we headed through the difficult trackless heather to a high point, 426 m, ignored by AW.  Close by on the edge was the well cairned Hugh’s Laithes Pike giving views down to Hawsewater and its dam. A sheltered spot out of the wind gave us an ideal lunch spot. One more top, 395 m, was easily reached. I’ve lost count of our tops by now. We found a lovely winding track down into the wooded Naddle Valley, Birch, Oak and Alder were prominent.  On our way out of the valley, we spotted a group of deer next to Frith Crag.

View back from the last top = Hugh's Laithes Pike, Haweswater and Measand Beck.

View back from the last top – Hugh’s Laithes Pike, Haweswater and Measand Beck.

So not the most of interesting fells, but we enjoyed good weather and views. The woods were delightful. It was a strenuous round with a lot of ascents and we reflected that it was far better than spending time in the gym – not that I have ever.

AN EXTENDED CIRCUIT OF DEVOKE WATER.

Eight fells in one.

This was a grand day out, everything seemed to fit – good weather, excellent walking with views and interesting companionship, Sir Hugh. I had concocted an extended circuit of the Wainwright Outliers surrounding Devoke Water and wondered whether we would be up to it not knowing the terrain.

Devoke Water is the largest tarn in the Lakes and boasts a two storey boathouse and a tiny island. The first two summits, Rough Crag and Water Crag, to its north were reached with little effort and acted as a warm up for the day. Looking back three men were on the same circuit. Having dropped down to the stream coming out of the tarn there was a tedious climb up to the much higher White Pike and its columnar cairn. From this lofty height we gazed into Eskdale and reminisced on walking over Muncaster Fell on the classic Ravenglass to Shap walk. Muncaster Castle could be seen in the trees, I have a couple of Rhododendrons purchased from there which are about to come into flower in my garden. Nice connotations for me.

The three men on Rough Crag.

The three men on Rough Crag.

The other three slowly followed but we came off the ridge, plunging down the crags [Sir Hugh resorting to the ancient art of bum-sliding] to visit the volcanic pimple of The Knott. From here we worked out a traverse across the moor before a steep ascent up to Stainton Pike. We were still out of breath when the three gents joined us and wondered at our erratic course, mutual group photos were taken with the Scafell Range and Great Gable in the background. Lunch was taken in the warm sunshine.

The Knott and White Pike from Stainton Pike, Muncaster Fell in the background.

The Knott and White Pike from Stainton Pike, Muncaster Fell in the background.

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An exhilarating high march across Yoadcastle and Woodend Height, lovely triangular cairn, provided the best views of the day into central Lakeland. From there it was a direct line down to the boathouse. Gaining our last summit, Seat How, proved more difficult as it was ringed by broken crags breached only on the eastern side.

Yoadcastle and Woodend Height along the ridge.

Yoadcastle and Woodend Height along the ridge.

Cairn on Woodend Height.

Cairn on Woodend Height.

Seat How on the right.

Seat How on the right.

Last view down onto Devoke water.

Last view down onto Devoke water.

Hopefully Spring is here but I’ve known it snow at Easter.