Whitfell and Devoke Water.

Or: Three Brews with Views.

Birker Fell Road – Rough Crag – Water Crag – White Pike – Woodend Height – Yoadcastle – Stainton Pike – Holehouse Tarn – Whitfell – Woodend Height – Devoke Water – Seat How – Birker Fell Road.

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Hesk Fell, Woodend Height and Stord’s Hill seen across Devoke Water from Rough Crag.

It was our turn to do Kitchen Duty at rugby and TBH offered to go in my stead. I didn’t need to be asked twice. The MWIS forecast gave hill fog, with the best chance of some sunshine in the west, so I drove out to Ulpha in the Duddon valley and then up to park on the Birker Fell Road. Pike How, just above the road is a marvellous view point and one to bear in mind for future reference. It didn’t take long to reach Rough Crag either and I found a comfortable spot out of the chilly wind blowing from the north…

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…and settled down for an early brew stop.

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Water Crag from Rough Crag.

Water Crag was also easily and quickly ascended.

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Looking back to Rough Crag from Water Crag.

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This rocky little knoll is Brantrake Crags. It’s off modest height and probably doesn’t appear in any guide books anywhere, but I thought it looked worth climbing. The stream beside it, Linbeck Gill, which drains Devoke Water, also looked like a good place to explore.

After Rough Crag and Water Crag, Birkett suggests a lengthy traverse to take in The Knott. For once, I’d done my research in advance and discovered that Wainwright, in his Outlying Fells book, has a separate walk which takes in the Knott, but also the ancient settlement at Barnscar and the waterfall of Rowantree Force. That seemed like a more sensible option to me, so I skipped The Knott and climbed directly to White Pike. After the previous two, very easy, ascents, this one seemed like a long way. It was well worth it though. The prominent cairn…

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…marked a spot with excellent views.

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Whitfell and Stainton Pike from White Pike.

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Cumbrian west coast from White Pike.

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Eskmeals viaduct and Isle of Mann.

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Woodend Height and Yoadcastle.

All of the peaks on this walk had stunning views. I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favourite, but Woodend Height would be hard to beat; from it’s top you can have great fun picking out all of the big hills of the western Lakes, across Devoke Water.

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Yoadcastle, Whitfell and Stainton Pike from Woodend Height.

Aside from the minor difficulty of surmounting a wire fence with a top strand of barbed wire, the walk around to Stainton Pike was delightful. This was yet another good view point.

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Looking back to Yoadcastle from Stainton Pike.

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Holehouse tarn and Whitfell from Stainton Pike.

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The estuaries of the Irt and the Esk from Stainton Pike.

It seemed like another brew was in order, and I found a wonderfully sheltered spot to sit to enjoy it.

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The Irt and the Esk and the dunes of Drigg nature reserve.

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Muncaster Castle.

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Isle of Mann and Eskmeals viaduct.

From there then, on to Whitfell.

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Large summit cairn on Whitfell.

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Looking back along my route.

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Duddon Estuary, Black Coombe and Buckbarrow.

On Whitfell you are a bit further away from the hills of Wasdale and Eskdale, but if anything, I thought this enhanced the view. I took several panoramas during the course of the day. Sadly, none of them were very successful, but I’ve included this one, if for no other reason than to remind myself of the great sweep of hills from Whin Rigg in the west round to Caw at the southern extreme of the Coniston Fells.

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Despite the forecast hill-fog, the higher fells were often clear…

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Scafells, Esk Pike, Bowfell, Crinkle Crags.

I’d flirted with the idea of descending from here, via Biggert to Hole House, then climbing The Pike and Hesk Fell on my way back to Devoke Water. This now seemed overly ambitious, and Hesk Fell looked every inch the tedious lump which Wainwright bemoans. So I wandered back to Woodend Height, skirting the other summits on my way.

Dropping off Woodend Height toward Rowantree How, I found another comfortable, sheltered seat and settled down for another brew.

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The view from my final brew stop.

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The same view from a little lower down: the rocky knoll on the left is Rowantree How. Note Seat How to the right of Devoke Water.

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Devoke Water and Seat How.

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Devoke Water boat house.

Seat How is another modest little top, but it is gratifyingly craggy, giving a satisfying scrambling finish to the round

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Devoke Water from Seat How.

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The pastures around Woodend, Hesk Fell behind.

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Harter Fell, Crook Crag, Green Crag, Great Crag.

I’ve often pontificated about the elements which come together to provide a good day on the hoof; I shan’t start again here, except to say that a really good walk might not just leave you wanting to come back and do it again someday, but may also fill your head with ideas for other walks you’d like to do soon. That was certainly the case with this one: not only did I find myself wanting to return to reascend many of the familiar hills I could see around me, but I also now plan to head round to the west coast to grab The Knott, and to explore the dunes at Drigg; I need to bag Buckbarrow, and The Pike, and even Hesk Fell; I spent large parts of the day thinking about a Duddon watershed walk and also wondering how to continue a high level route which would begin with Black Combe and then head north over Whitfell and these Devoke Water tops. Speculating about these more fanciful routes was great fun….in fact: where are my maps? After Harter Fell, where next?

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Whitfell and Devoke Water.

A Round from Rosthwaite.

Rosthwaite – Stonethwaite Beck – Stonethwaite – Big Stanger Gill – Bessyboot – Tarn at Leaves – Rosthwaite Cam – Coombe Door – Coombe Head – Glaramara – Looking Steads – Lincomb Tarns – Allen Crags – Sprinkling Tarn – Great Slack – Seathwaite Fell – Styhead Gill – Stockley Bridge – Grains Gill – Seathwaite – Black Sike – Strands Bridge – Folly Bridge – Longthwaite – Rosthwaite.

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Big Stanger Gill.

Be warned – there are an awful lot of photographs in this post, which doesn’t really reflect the quality of the photos, which were hampered by overcast skies and flat light all day, so much as just how much I enjoyed the walk. The idea for the route germinated after our ascent of Scafell Pike, which left me with a hankering to visit Sprinkling Tarn again after a gap of many years. Then, when I started perusing the map for a suitable circuit, I was drawn to the rash of blue dots across the hillsides south of Borrowdale, and the plan for this route duly emerged.

I’m not sure that I’ve ever been up Bessyboot before, and unusually for me, it actually occurred to me to take a peek in Wainwright prior to my walk, rather than doing my research afterwards, when, frankly, it’s a bit too late. The route up Stanger Gill is one of Wainwright’s routes, but no path is shown on the OS map at all. There is a path on the ground, clearly quite well used, and pitched with stones for much of its length. It climbs steeply through the trees, but there was a good variety of moss and toadstools to distract me from quite a warm and humid climb.

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One advantage of a steep climb is that good views behind rapidly emerge…

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The view back down to Stonethwaite.

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Waterfall in Big Stanger Gill.

When the ground finally begins to level out the path emerges into an area of rocky knolls and boggy hollows…

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Racom Bands.

The path seemed to lead me very circuitously, spiralling in on the summit of Bessyboot (which Wainwright calls Rosthwaite Fell).

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Looking north from Bessyboot: Tarn at Leaves, the knobbly top of Rosthwaite Cam and Coombe Head behind.

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Looking south from Bessyboot along Borrowdale to Skiddaw.

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Tarn at Leaves and Bessyboot.

“Tarn at Leaves has a lovely name but no other appeal”

Wainwright.

I think this kind of rough and complex terrain is really satisfying, and have no idea why Wainwright, the old curmudgeon, should be so negative about Tarn at Leaves.

Rosthwaite Cam was a big hit with me: a splendidly rocky and isolated little top, with nobody about and an easy scramble required to reach the summit.

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Looking north from Rosthwaite Cam – on the left the double bobble which Birkett anoints as Stonethwaite Fell and on the right Coombe Head.

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Looking south from Rosthwaite Cam: Tarn at Leaves, Bessyboot, Derwent Water and Skiddaw.

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Looking west from Rosthwaite Cam. From this vantage, Fleetwith Pike looks rather odd; like some powerful giant has taken great scoops out of the sides of the mountain.

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This is brew-stop number one, under the sheltered side of the enormous chunk of rock which forms the top of Rosthwaite Cam.

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Rosthwaite Cam from Stonethwaite Fell.

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And again, with a less wide-angled setting on the zoom.

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This tiny cairn is on the minor hummock which forms the eastern edge of Coombe Door.

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Small tarn at Coombe Door, Coombe Head on the right, Glaramara behind on the left.

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Crags of Coombe Head.

This was a walk across very rocky terrain; that rock was coarse and knobbly, and extremely grippy under boots. I was intrigued by these crags below Coombe Head where the rock, which surely must be volcanic, was neatly layered as if it were sedimentary.

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The view from Coombe Head along The Coombe and then down Derwent Water is an absolute cracker. It would be a shame to bypass it to head straight for Glaramara, but that’s precisely what the main path from Borrowdale does.

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Tarns near Coombe Head and Glaramara.

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The twin tops of Glaramara, viewed from brew-stop number two on Looking Steads.

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Esk Pike, Allen Crags, Ill Crag, Great End and Lingmell from brew-stop number two.

Brew-stop number two turned out to be an ill-advised affair. After the warm and sticky climb up Bessyboot, it had been quite cold on the ridge: the wind had a real edge to it. I’d hunkered down behind a large boulder to make my mug of tea, and put on all of my spare clothing, but this was the only time all day when it there were drops of moisture in the wind, and the boulder didn’t provide as much shelter as I’d hoped. By the time I’d slurped the last of my char, I was uncomfortably chilled.

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Bowfell and Esk Pike across a small tarn.

Tarns abound on this ridge and I felt that, although the ground is often boggy, there must be some scope for wild-camping.

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The rocky lump on the right here, in front of Allen Crags has a spot height of 684m on the OS map and is another Birkett (High House).

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Great End, Great Gable and Sprinkling Tarn from Allen Crags.

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Looking back to Glaramara from Allen Crags.

Brew-stop number three, just off the top of Allen Crags, was much more successful than the previous halt. I found a natural hollow amongst some shattered rocks where somebody had even built a small, untidy wall to raise the shelter a little higher. This turned out to be a very comfortable seat, well out of the wind and with excellent views.

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Langdale Pikes, Windermere, Lingmoor, Pike O’Blisco and Bowfell from brew-stop three.

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Piek O’Blisco, Wetherlam, Bowfell and Esk Pike from brew-stop three.

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Great Slack and Sprinkling Tarn.

Two tents were being pitched by Sprinkling Tarn, both by what looked to be father and son teams, both on the protruding parts of the shore which are almost islands in the tarn, and both looking to be conspicuously lacking in shelter from the wind.

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Sprinkling Tarn and Great End from point 631, not Great Slack, but with better views of the tarn then Great Slack.

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In ‘The Tarns of Lakeland’ Heaton Cooper calls this Sprinkling Crag Tarn.

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Glaramara from Great Slack, the diagonal gash across the hillside is Hind Gill, which, apparently, a faint, steep and very quiet path follows: one for another day.

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Seathwaite Fell from Great Slack.

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Lingmell and Peers Gill from Great Slack.

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Great End from Seathwaite Fell.

Seathwaite Fell is another pleasantly rocky top. It’s surrounded by steep crags on three sides and so has superb views down into Borrowdale.

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Seathwaite from Seathwite Fell.

The only part of my route which I wouldn’t necessarily recommend is the first part of my descent from Seathwiate Fell, down towards the path above Styhead Gill. I found a faint path which seemed promising and followed it into a steep little gully. The stream was mostly hidden below the jumble of rocks and boulders, so at least the going was mainly dry, but it was quite loose and a bit too steep for my liking. I only stopped to take a photo once the gradient had eased…

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At which point, in a wet flush at the mossy margins of the stream, I noticed these tiny, delightful flowers…

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…of Starry Saxifrage. I took several photos, none of which came out well, but each of the five petals has two characteristic yellow spots near it’s base, the centre of the flower is turning pink, and between each petal there are conspicuous red anthers. This is a plant of the mountains, and I shall be on the look out for it again in future.

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Stockley Bridge, Grains Gill, with Aaron Crags on Seathwaite Fell behind. That pool does look suitable for a swim (I’d been wondering), but it was too late and too cold.

I still had a fair walk along the valley, then by the river Derwent to get back to Rosthwaite.  By the time I reached the car park, the skies had begun to clear. For once I didn’t really resent the good weather arriving when my walk had finished; I’d had too much fun to feel any regrets. I brewed-up one more time before enjoying a pink sunset reflected in Derwent Water as I drove home.

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View from the car park.

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In all, I was out for about 10 hours, which is also how long it had taken us to climb Scafell Pike the week before. This was a good deal further then that, with probably a similar amount of ascent and a roughly equivalent amount of sitting around enjoying the view. All of which is very vague, I’m afraid. I couldn’t hope to estimate how many tarns I passed either, but I can be more precise with my tick lists: the route included eleven Birketts, of which four are also Wainwrights. I didn’t see many people about at all, especially over the first part of the route until I joined a more significant path on Glaramara, and the last section of the hills over Great Slack and Seathwaite Fell.

A Round from Rosthwaite.

Mean and Moody Weather on Scafell Pike

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Around the New Year, TBH is always keen to reflect, to look back at the year gone by and to make plans for the year ahead, “What do you want to do this year?” she’ll ask each of the rest of the family. My answer is always deeply predictable and revolves around getting out for lots of walks and finding some time for some camping and canoeing. Of course, TBH has her own ideas and this year suggested that we might set ourselves the target of climbing the National summits, Ben Nevis, Snowdon and Scafell Pike.

Scafell, being closest to home, would, in theory at least, be the easiest to tick off, but things haven’t entirely gone to plan; we expected to complete the climb in May when we were camping in Wasdale, but high winds made that an unwise choice; then we decided to camp in Upper Eskdale in June and ascend it from there, but again the weather didn’t cooperate and we camped elsewhere instead. I tried to resurrect the Eskdale plan this summer, but the forecast wasn’t entirely convincing, so in the end we elected to tackle the hill in a day-trip.

When we parked on the verge at Seathwaite, the waterfalls of Sourmilk Gill were looking resplendent and I was glad that we’d opted not to camp: with the streams running very high, I wondered what Great Moss would be like – we might have struggled to find a dry enough spot to camp and we certainly would have found ourselves struggling with conditions underfoot.

This would prove to be a day of very changeable weather; we set-off in rain and were soon kitted out in our waterproofs, but by the time we had walked a little way up the valley, the sun was shining, with dark shadows flitting across the landscape in response to the threatening clouds scudding overhead.

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Grains Gill, Stockley Bridge and Seathwaite Fell.

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Little S and TBH approaching Stockley Bridge.

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Grains Gill from Stockley Bridge.

I had been hoping to assess the suitability of the pools around Stockley Bridge for swimming purposes. I think there is some scope for a dip here, but the stream was running too high today.

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We continued to follow Grains Gill and then Ruddy Gill, and although it was soon raining again, our spirits weren’t dampened. The gill, in high water, looked very fine and ahead the crags of Great End were continually disappearing and reappearing in veils of mist.

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When it brightened again, we found a spot to sit for some butties and a brew.

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With the weather lifting a little, a view had appeared down to Derwent Water and Skiddaw.

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And the changing cloud and patches of sunlight put on a show for us.

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Likewise, up the valley, the mist was still swirling atmospherically around Great End.

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We were moving steadily, but fairly slowly, even by my unambitious standards. When we reached the top of Ruddy Gill I offered the kids the option to divert via Sprinkling Tarn and so considerably shorten the walk, but they were having none of it,  and were all determined to continue to the top.

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Allen Crags with Derwent Water behind.

When we reached Esk Hause, Esk Pike had usurped Great End as the incredible disappearing hill…

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Now you see it…

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Now you don’t…

Great End, meanwhile, was clear, albeit briefly…

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…but the ridge from there, onward over Ill Crag, Broad Crag and Scafell Pike itself remained determinedly hidden….

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And it stayed that way as we walked along the ridge and up the final pull to the top. In the slight depression shortly before we hit the broad ridge we stopped again for a second lunch, it seeming likely that, in the wind, it would be too cold to stop. Now and again, as we continued, scraps of blue sky appeared overhead and it seemed as if views would soon follow, but it wasn’t to be. The top wasn’t as busy as I’d expected, but there were a fair few people up there and since the wind was indeed very cold, we elected, after a very brief stop, to press on. If anything, as we descended, it seemed that the cloud had lowered further and we didn’t drop out of the fog until we had reached the Corridor Route.

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The top of Pier’s Gill.

I love the Corridor Route, for me it’s one of the finest paths in the Lake District, with it’s steep crags and deep-cut gills on all sides, and the patchy cloud didn’t really detract from the drama, although I was glad that we had finally dropped below it.

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It was pretty late by now, but we had anticipated this eventuality and so, as well as the stove and kettle I often carry for brewing-up, I had a pan, some filled dried pasta (harder to buy these days than it once was, but Aldi stock some) and a jar of pesto. I was surprised by how many other groups were still about on the hills and, as we cooked tea, a party came by and expressed their envy of our impending evening meal.

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Round How and the Corridor Route.

We descended past Styhead Tarn, Styhead Gill and back via Stockley Bridge, finishing back at Seathwaite in the very last of the light, having completed our roughly 8 mile walk in around 10 hours. So, we hardly set any records fro speed, and I’m not sure either that we will get around to  Ben Nevis or Snowden this year, but we did enjoy a very memorable day.

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Mean and Moody Weather on Scafell Pike

Buckbarrow and Seatallan

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The first day of our annual Mayday camping weekend in Wasdale and the party had split.  Well, some had not yet arrived, having opted to stay in Harrogate to watch the Tour de Yorkshire whizz by. Others, including most of the kids, had decided upon a trip to the Sellafield Visitor Centre. It closed years ago, but TBH had read on the internet that it had been reopened by Brian Cox and that he had described it as ‘awesome’. However, when they arrived at Sellafield they were greeted by high fences and stern security guards. It turned out that Professor Cox had been at the opening of a display at the Beacon Centre in Whitehaven, of which he had actually said: “The new exhibition is absolutely wonderful.” So they went to have a gander at St. Bees instead, having already visited the excellent ice-cream parlour in Seascale which the kids now regard as an essential part of the weekend. The photo above shows the rest of the party, just off the top of Buckbarrow enjoying a leisurely lunch-stop and snooze out of the cold wind. Well, not quite all of the rest of the party…

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…B didn’t fancy Sellafield. He didn’t really want to go for a walk either, truth be told, but had found some scrambling near the top of Buckbarrow and had really enjoyed himself. He didn’t think much to our lackadaisical approach and was racing around looking for more bits of crag to scamper up whilst we lazed around.

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Yewbarrows and the Scafells.

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Wasdale Screes.

From Buckbarrow the walk over Glede How and up Seatallan was a long steady pull.

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B on Seatallan – the black shadow on the horizon is the Isle of Mann.

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Great Gable, Yewbarrow and the Scafells from Seatallan.

By contrast, the descent from Seatallan to Greendale tarn was very steep. Old Father Sheffield, who seemed to be on a mission to climb every hill in the area, took the logical route from there over Middle Fell, while the rest of us took the lazier option down by the beck, meeting OFS again for the walk over the fields and back to Nether Wasdale.

A fine walk – you might even say ‘awesome’.

Buckbarrow and Seatallan

Place Fell

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Looking into Deepdale.

The last day of our Easter holiday (apart, that is for TBH who still had the rest of the week to look forward to). We had arranged a walk with our friends Dr R and her daughter E. Dr R is ticking off the Wainwrights and we needed a route which took in something new, but also gave the potential for meeting some none walking members of the party for tea and cake. I hit upon the idea of climbing Place Fell from Glenridding, descending to Howtown and returning on a Lake Steamer to Glenridding.

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Place Fell summit.

And a very fine walk it was, although it was very cold for our second lunch stop on the summit.

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I was pretty confident that this would be an enjoyable walk; it’s one I’ve done many times before, in particular, when we used to have family get-togethers at Easter in the Youth Hostel down below in Patterdale.

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Skimming Stones.

I’m pretty sure (and I will get around to looking it up eventually) that Place Fell has a fair smattering of Birketts, but I wasn’t too bothered about that today. I did however divert up High Dodd simply because it looked very inviting.

I was pleased I did because the view of Ullswater was excellent from there.

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Scalehow Beck from Low Dodd.

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Cascade on Scalehow Beck.

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This waterfall on Scalehow Beck looks like it is probably very dramatic, but it’s difficult to get a decent view of it from the path: the photo only shows the top of the fall.

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I was surprised to see that this tree, an oak, had come into leaf, because I’ve been watching for that to happen at home, but I was sure that it hadn’t.

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The walk around the shore from Sandwick to Howtown through Hallinhag Wood is delightful. And was enlivened for me by the appearance of a pair of Treecreepers, not a bird I see very often.

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Here in the woods, most of the trees were still bare, so this tree, in full leaf…

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…and a cheerful bright green – I think a Sycamore – really stood out.

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Arthur’s Pike and Bonscale Pike.

We arrived in Howtown with only a few minutes to spare before the 5 o’clock sailing of the Steamer and no time for the planned tea and cake interval there.

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But I think we all enjoyed the pleasure cruise. I know that I did!

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I’ve almost reneged on my promise of some ee cummings before the end of April, but after a trip to Howtown I can’t resist this:

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

Place Fell

Helvellyn

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Place Fell.

The children were, somewhat to my surprise, remarkably tolerant of my plan to have another ‘birthday hill-walk’ the day after our ascent of Pen-y-ghent. They were quite keen to tackle Whernside, but having looked at the forecast, it seemed that heading north to the Lakes would be a better bet for us. They were also adamant that the best part of our day on Pen-y-ghent, was the rocky south ridge, where they had strayed from the path looking for scrambling challenges. (They’d humoured my obsession with Purple Saxifrage without completely sharing it!)

So, where to take them next?

Helvellyn and Striding Edge seemed like the obvious choice. It had been lurking at the back of mind as one possibility for this Easter break, I think.

We were parked in Glenridding quite early, although we’d stopped en route to do a bit of shopping – the most urgent need being new boots for B, who it transpired had been wearing size 3 boots on his size 6 feet the day before.

I first took them up to Lanty’s Tarn, because one Easter, long ago, I saw it swarming with frogs. None in evidence on this occasion, but not to worry, from Lanty’s Tarn there’s a very quiet path up onto Birkhouse Moor which is less of a slog than the path from Grizedale or the Little Cove path, in my opinion at least.

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Just after meeting the Little Cove path we found a good, sheltered spot out of the cold wind for a bite to eat. The boys had learned from the previous days experience and had brought more food with them.

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Apparently, Lancashire is not the only county to have gone for an odd Easter holiday of the fortnight running up to the Easter weekend. However, whilst there were quite a few people about, Striding Edge was still a good deal quieter than I had anticipated…

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The children really relished the experience, taking the ‘ethical line’ as close to the crest as they could. As for me, doing this with my kids gave me a whole new perspective on Striding Edge – I’m sure it was never this narrow or exposed in the past!

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I’d warned them about the little down-climb at the end of the ridge before we got there. After we’d done it they asked if my prior knowledge was because I’d read up on the ridge in advance of our walk. So I explained that I’d been this way many times before, and was surprised at the resulting indignance: “Well, you’ve never brought us before!”

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I found the last little steep haul up to the top a bit wearisome. For the first time that day, the kids were leaving me behind and Little S, bless him, had to keep telling the other two to pause to wait for me.

It was a bit blowy on the summit…

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Near the coll between Swirral Edge and Catstye Cam we stopped again to guzzle tea and eat more lunch. I’d originally intended to Include Catstye Cam on the walk, but decided now that we would leave that for another time. I have a strong feeling that this is one walk the kids will want to repeat.

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We descended by Red Tarn Beck.

“Which one is your Birthday walk then Dad? Pen-y-ghent or Helvellyn?”

“Which would you choose?”

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They were unanimous, all plumping for Helvellyn. I can’t decide – can I have them both? It would set an excellent precedent.

Helvellyn

Grand Designs – An Igloo on Wansfell

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A superb forecast for the weekend had me thinking about getting out to The Lakes for a walk. TBH had already planned her own walk with a couple of friends, part of an ongoing scheme to keep in touch by walking together once a month. I thought I might initiate a similar programme and asked the Tower Captain how he was fixed. Having both recently escaped for an entire weekend, it fell to us to take responsibility for the ankle-biters. And the Tower Captain’s dogs.

Somehow, independently of each other, both groups lighted on Troutbeck as their choice of destination. And so it was, somewhat comically, that we were all parked next to each other, by Church Bridge heading for Troutbeck Tongue and Wansfell respectively.

We hadn’t set off particularly early, and Little S was immediately pestering me about stopping for lunch, which we duly did, not far above the village on Nanny Lane.

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It was surprisingly hot for late March. Further up the lane we spotted a Peacock butterfly, my first butterfly of the year. There was still some snow on the higher fells, however…

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Froswick, Ill Bell and Yoke.

And when we came across a couple of isolated patches of snow, the boys were picking up lumps of it to suck on and rub on their foreheads and arms in order to cool down. (It wasn’t as hot as that suggests!)

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Red Screes, Stony Cove Pike and part of High Street.

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When we reached the highest point, some of us decided to sit down and drink in the view…

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Whilst the boys immediately started to build snowmen…

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Well, not just the boys…

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The Tower Captain suggested that there was sufficient snow for them to build an igloo. Some children might have spotted this for the sarcastic comment that it was no doubt intended to be, but B, typically, took it as a personal challenge.

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The Tower Captain tried to resist…

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…whilst B enlisted the other children’s help…

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…but soon he was embroiled in the construction project too…

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I supervised from a supine position. It’s possible that my eyes may have closed for a while, so that I could concentrate on the logistics of the situation, obviously.

Soon, B deemed that the igloo was complete and it was time to try it out. Plenty of room for Little S…

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…a bit tighter for B…

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Oh…

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I neglected to mention that B had incorporated a window into his design.

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The igloo was altogether more ‘cosy’ for the Junior Tower Captain…

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..and A…

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And when the Tower Captain tried to squeeze his not inconsiderable frame into the igloo…

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…the inevitable happened…

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…and much hilarity ensued. A captured the whole thing on video, and very funny it is too. Maybe she’ll get round to posting it on her own blog one of these days.

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Fairfield and its ridges.

We followed the ridge to Wansfell Pike, which is a better viewpoint than the actual summit, and more popular with visitors.

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We had intended to drop down to Ambleside and then come back round to Troutbeck via Jenkin Crag and Skelghyll Wood, but we were running short of time, so took a direct route back down onto Nanny Lane instead.

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The amazing display of daffodils in the churchyard of Jesus Church in Troutbeck.

Apparently, the walk on Troutbeck Tongue was very pleasant, but I can’t imagine it was as much fun as our outing.

Grand Designs – An Igloo on Wansfell