Lake District April 2004
personal index

Months and months of interminable dreary skies; I hate it. So what joy when the sun finally re-appears, and what a good reason to vacate the city and return to the Lakes. I missed the first warm sunny day because of a few things I had to do, and I was disinclined to phone my favoured B & B at no notice, and risk likely disappointment. But the following day I did – and there was a free bed. I arrived at Cockley Beck at nearly 1pm, but that doesn’t concern me too much when it’s light until 8, 8.30 or even 9pm. I first did the trek up Moasdale, to Bowfell and then across Crinkle Crags thinking it was a convenient stop-off walk, but nothing terribly special. In fact it has several delightful features, equaling any other walk in the Lake District. First, the valley approach is a joy: not for the first time, a happy smile warmed my face after too long in the grey-clad city. It’s a lovely area where after just 10 minutes or so you feel as if you are in wild isolation. And after 30 minutes or so you see the Scafells peeping up from the horizon, adding excitement to the gentle ascent. Then you are there on the hilltop, looking across to the Lakeland giants from possibly the best viewpoint there is. Cockley Beck-Bowfell-Crinkle Crags is not a stopover walk at all, but a worthwhile part of any itinerary.

Next is the section taking you up to High Gait Crags, looking down to Great Moss on your left and over to Bowfell on your right. I lingered here for good photographs, enjoying the fact that even at 3 or 4 o’clock there was plenty of daylight remaining. Then descend slightly and begin the long, rough trek up to Bowfell and across Crinkle Crags. Someone once told me the latter area – part of the Langdale Valley – is his favourite walk. I’ve done it 3 or 4 times now and have decided, unusually, that it’s a section I do not especially like. I don’t mind arduous walking if it’s rewarding, but this ridge is too rough for my liking. I’m not exactly a Sunday afternoon stroller, but I don’t like boulder areas or – for that matter – half walk half scrambles like Crib Goch in Wales. Nope, I enjoy vigorous exertion in wild terrain, but not prolonged bouts of foot-punishing battle. Which sums up this walk for me: the first half, maybe two thirds are delightful, but the remainder is not on my favourite list. The latter doesn’t detract from the overall fun because you don’t normally have a walk of 100% satisfaction, but it’s a noteworthy observation. There are some scenic enjoyments, like the view across to the Scafells, but from this viewpoint they are generally a dark silhouette and although it’s nice, the earlier aspects are better. The walk finishes with a steep descent which I have never mastered: it’s one of those areas where the path is vague and insubstantial, and half the time you are merely improvising. At a certain point the path you see veers in the wrong direction, appearing to add a further and completely uninteresting section when you want to aim directly for Cockley Beck. That path may curve back across the hillside to where you want to go but so far every time I’ve seen it, I’ve decided to cut across down a steep hillside where there definitely is no path, but which is a straight line back to your parked car.

Day 2

The forecast was that the sunshine would not last, but it was very promising i.e. settled, and the following day was indeed warm and sunny again. Just right for going over to Wasdale and going up to Pillar. Wasdale was a relatively late discovery for me; I’d been to Eskdale 2 or 3 times and quite liked it but found it maybe a little bleak and featureless, and felt that Wasdale, even further West, was unappealing: especially after seeing photographs of the famous Wastwater screes, which I found bleak and depressing. All this changed in 2003 when I got to know Eskdale very well (in wonderful sunny weather) and also ventured over to Wasdale. My first impression was rather ambivalent but that was based on seeing the screes. It’s funny – they are a dramatic and dominating feature, but actually are only a small part of the Wasdale valley and the rest is both exciting and delightful. When people think ‘Wasdale’ they think of the valley head, which is the most impressive and formidable in Lakeland. But actually before and after you are ‘subjected’ to the screes, Wasdale valley is extremely pretty. It’s remote, lacking obvious walking, but if I’m ever based in Wasdale for an extended period it would be nice to explore. And the valley head? Well for anyone who knows this area, it needs no praise. And the walk up to Pillar is, at the moment, my favourite Lakeland walk. As with the previous day, after 10 minutes you feel completely immersed in a wild area, and as with the previous day the initial Moasdale Valley is delightful. Then you reach Black Sail Pass and the ridge up to Pillar which is one of the finest there is, if not the finest. You have the Ennerdale valley on your right, looking beyond to Grasmoor and the faint suggestion of Scotland. And on your left you have the Wasdale valley, looking beyond to Burnmoor Tarn and the Irish Sea. I don’t know any other ridge with this kind of interest – and when you look backwards, and back and down from the summit of Pillar once reached, you have the impressive outline of Great Gable and the Scafells. Marvelous.

The second half of the day offers you changing views across to the Scafells and Gable which with the right light can be dramatic and beautiful. The day was becoming rather hazy at this point so it wasn’t at its best – but then again, I realized that I actually liked these more subdued colours; that the vivid greens and brilliant blues of the very best day are, photographically speaking, rather clichéd in the Lake District.

I wasn’t looking forward to the descent off the ridge, down the steep and nasty scree. But this time I decided to search for a more pleasant route down some grass – and discovered that there’s actually a scratched out little track where others have thought the same thing: ack, not that scree again. Even without the track you would find a steep but entirely tolerable descent down grass rather than slippery-slidey rubble. My guidebook never referred to this, and it’s not obvious unless you look for it.

Technically only the first half of the day was completely satisfactory because of the deteriorating weather but it didn’t become bad, only not good, and I wasn’t bothered about that. I considered dinner at the Wasdale Inn but was tired, ideally would have enjoyed an outside repast, and like the Burnmoor Inn at Eskdale: reasons to drive back over to Eskdale. It was actually too chilly to be outside, but the other reasons were good ones.

Day 3

The morning looked nice with cloudy but bright blue sky; but you could sense that the weather had changed - not least, the drop in temperature. Within an hour it clouded over quite considerably which meant two things to consider. First, did I want to continue with my plan to walk up to Scafell Pike with threatening rain clouds? I decided no, because although I would have enjoyed it to some extent, it would not be anything near the fun it can be, and I have had, with good weather. Also I realized I was very tired; I’d woken early and not got back to sleep. Two substantial walks and maybe this was a day for something more leisurely. Second, should I consider staying another night? I found I was still enjoying Eskdale despite the leaden skies, because it is so beautifully tranquil. It’s just nice being in Eskdale. And yes, my room was vacant for a further night, so I wouldn’t have to hunt around for an alternative.

What to do then? I decided to drive over to Devoke Water, and then walked around the entire lake which suited me very well: nice to be out walking, but requiring no uphill exertion at all, and a modest 1-2 hour trek suitable for quite an uninspiring day. No it wasn’t joyously bright and colourful, but I liked meandering around while my heart rate and respiration was untaxed. I recently heard ornithologist Bill Oddie describe the origins of his love for nature, and it was simply ‘messing about’ in the country by rivers, in his early boyhood. It’s nice to do that: just mess about, as you did in boyhood, for the simple fun of being outdoors. I also got to see the whole circuit of Devoke Water which I’d never done; last time I came close I decided to lie down and sunbathe instead.

When I got back to Eskdale I decided – holiday-like – to have an afternoon nap because I really was tired. I also had my lap-top with me and it was time to write this report, and examine my digital photographs. On Day 1 and 2 I’d taken about 350 pictures, enjoying the digital freedoms of my Canon 10D. This day I’d taken considerably less, but I enjoyed the somber, graphic greys of my Devoke Water walk.

Fisherman: Allright!
Me: Morning!
Fisherman: Nice day for it!
Me: Yeah, at least the rain’s staying away.
Fisherman: Aye it’s forecast
Me: Yeah it is

Thus exemplifying my observation that in Britain we are inordinately grateful for small things like a cup of tea or a second helping of pie because of the character-moulding effect of the weather – “nice day for it”, when it’s completely grey and leaden, mild but by city standards slightly chilly, but at least it’s not raining, or severely cold. The sunbathing on a winter’s beach syndrome.

Day 4

The morning was uncertain looking, as if the weather could go either way. But it was reasonably mild, with a cloud-filled but blue sky. Scafell it was then, although when I arrived at the departure point along the valley I was disappointed to see Upper Eskdale was covered with cloud, along the tops. But I decided to continue anyway, thinking I could just go up Moasedale, maybe to Great Moss, and could return at any point. Having a good camera, as I now do, adds another dimension to Lakeland wanderings. Like a fisherman ostensibly looking for a catch but enjoying meditative peace in natural surroundings, so the desire to create pictures means you are no longer only tied, psychologically speaking, to the walk in question. If it doesn’t work out but you get a few good pictures, it doesn’t matter. You get your ‘catch’, and feel satisfied.

As it turned out, when I reached the upper end of Moasdale the sun started to shine – sporadically, but brightly. I was encouraged, and enjoyed getting some pictures of the waterfall area which in summer is possibly the best swim, dive and laze place there is in Lakeland. Onward to Great Moss then, the tops still covered in thick cloud but below that it was clear. It took me 5 hours to reach the bottom of Cam Spout, taking photographs; simple walking would take me 2 hours or less. And once there it’s only about 1 ¼ hours up to Scafell which, although it was in thick cloud, would provide me with a different return route, down Slight Side. It was white-out at the top with visibility of 2 hundred feet or so, but after 30-45 minutes descent the cloud started to dissolve again, giving you views over to Burnmoor Tarn, the Irish Sea and the Isle of Man. Everything was hazy and overcast though, even at the lower levels of descent. Finally, I discovered the best way of finishing the descent from Slight Side if you want to return to your starting point at Brotherilkeld Farm. If you wish to avoid walking down the valley which requires returning along the road – not desirable – you have to cut across an open area to a return path. I’ve done it 3 times, all of which were not completely satisfactory. If you had 2 hours to wander around you could work it out but after my trial and error attempts, this third time was successful: the most direct route across confusing and hilly terrain where you cannot see the lie of the land. A small but satisfying triumph.

Day 5

A grey day then, likely to be my last. I left my trusty B & B with the advice that they might hear from me later, weather permitting, but I doubted it. I decided to drive over towards Wastwater and then went up to Irton Pike. I’d seen some photos taken at the later viewpoint, and they were quite impressive. It turned about to be a grand half day’s walking although with not much breakfast fuelling me, no lunch as the hours passed, and no extra clothing, I was not prepared for reasonable exertion. Not for the first time in my walking career, I kept seeing nice looking places and continually going that much further, despite feeling hungry and weak. Not only did I get up Irton Pike, I also went along to the hills above Wastwater and made a new discovery: how lovely this area is, with magnificent views. It’s rare for me to experience this now, so it was a bit of a treat. Note to self, as I ignored my fatigue and battled severe winds coming down from Pillar and Gable with rain showers: come back here and do it again, probably taking the walk from Eskdale via Burnmoor Tarn. It had always looked uninteresting up there, lacking the drama of ridges or steep ascents. But this would be the culmination of such a walk, along the top of Wastwater.

Leaving Eskdale is a poignant experience, as I drive up the Hardknott Pass and look back down, remembering not only this latest trip but others before it, some of them distant memories it’s fun to reconnect with.