Lake District September 2003

I enjoy recording my Lake District adventures – or rather, I like having a record for me to read when the occasion begins to fade in my memory. Because each trip is memorable in its own way, and often includes at least one really delightful day which I like to remember. But its actually quite laborious writing them all up, and may or may not be interesting to other people.

This time it felt like the previous trip was a far-distant event, whereas it was only 4 or 5 weeks previous. In my mind, it had assumed idyllic proportions mostly because of the time I spent in the beautiful Eskdale valley. Idyllic, and also dream-like, in my memory. But here I was again, returning to what is currently my favourite area. I’m not very decisive when I plan because I prefer to be spontaneous and non-committal; it usually works out but it’s not always advantageous doing it this way. I thus arrived at Cockley Beck – about 30 minutes from Eskdale – at the late hour of nearly 3 pm. Not the best time to be setting off for a September walk, but I don’t like being constrained by those kind of considerations – walking for me is an exercise of freedom – and I reasoned that there was light enough, until 8 or 8.30, and evening walking is perfectly enjoyable. However, when you find yourself looking up at an inky black sky hoping there will be a moon, you realise this is not fun any more. More so when you cannot see the paths, and you are not going in the right direction so you have to go cross-country, down a steep slope, across terrain you can hardly see. I digress – skip forward, in fact, to the latter end of the walk. From Cockley Beck up to Esk Pike and then Bowfell, this is one of the finest sections of walk I have experienced. It’s a long, remote, beautiful valley with the tremendous reward of what lies at its end: the view across Upper Eskdale to the Scafells, which is always dramatic and inspiring, and this trek provided me with a new aspect. I enjoyed it very much.

I had thought this walk was a convenient en route stop off but no: it’s a first rate stroll that I would like to repeat, especially because for the second half it was dusk and then darkness and although it was manageable, it was not very enjoyable. In addition, I was remarkably tired; I hadn’t been walking for many weeks and although my legs felt reasonably strong, that’s not the only factor that can make you feel tired. Energy comes from a variety of sources: food, drink, the accruing strength from muscular exertion, and also sleep. Sleep restores your energy in a kind of internal stamina way that’s not related to blood sugar levels or muscles, but is also an emotional/mental thing. I was tired, not prepared for this, because it was an arduous walk and not because my legs weren’t up to it or I needed food. I wanted to see Esk Pike because it allows views down to Esk House and across to Glaramara, which is an aspect I’d never seen and which I was looking forward to. In fact Esk Pike and the surrounding panorama/terrain lacks definition and is a rambling, rocky area ultimately not that rewarding. I was mildly surprised that Bowfell was not the huge endeavour I somehow thought it was, and my traverse along the Crinkle Crags was fun because I’d never done it in this direction. But I was very tired and it was rapidly getting dark, so I didn’t benefit very much from this.

Day 2/Sunday

I wanted to walk Pillar, as I’d done a few weeks previously, in good sunlight. I was optimistic, based on the previous glorious day which I had unfortunately not the made the best of. The forecast said the morning fog was supposed to clear, and I believed it would. The drive over to Wasdale was/is delightful, but was not promising re. conditions. It deteriorated in fact, the further I was from Eskdale. But hey, it’s a tremendous area, I anticipated a good day, and I noted that other people were setting off wearing shorts. I decided to do the same, and left extra clothing in my car. Generally it’s best to be excessively cautious rather than optimistic so you are prepared. But it’s nice to be unencumbered. Anyway I set off up the Mosedale valley, eyeing up the hanging clouds on the ridge up to Pillar. It’s a beautiful valley; after just a few hundred yards you feel you are right in the middle of wild solitude, surrounded by enticing peaks. As I trekked up the slope the weather did not improve; in fact it got worse the higher I got (which is what you expect). I decided to rest at Black Sail pass and wait for the weather to change; if it didn’t, I would consider returning. I only had my shorts and a thin wool jumper over a shirt, so there was no way I would continue unless the wind and mist lifted. It didn’t; in fact it became worse and visibility was sometimes just a few hundred yards. I wasn’t too upset by this because I’d aimed for a summery walk and if the weather was otherwise, I didn’t feel like contending with it. Cold and rain aren’t too bad in small amounts, but poor visibility makes walking a waste of time. I do enjoy the exercise, but only when the landscape inspires me. I returned back down the path, reflecting on the fact that despite having my plans scuppered, it was still pleasant to be here. Back at my habitual venue, the delightful Burnmoor Inn, I looked out onto a sylvan and yes sunny valley: Eskdale had been a more favourable place that day, and the late afternoon and evening was very pleasant.

Day 3/Monday

I drove over to Wasdale again to consider the conditions, and made a mental note that Eskdale and Wasdale can be very different; the fact that they are relatively close is not the point. They are substantially different areas, like comparing Borrowdale with Patterdale, say, as far as the weather is concerned. Now, yesterday Eskdale had been much better so when I saw the cloud and haze at Wasdale I returned, and re-considered my plans. Lunch at the Burnmoor Inn – always delightful, when you sit outside – and I wanted a relatively short walk. I decided on a trip up to Green Crag, which is one of the just-above-the-valley destinations which allows you to get a general 'feel' for Eskdale. It’s a lovely short walk with notable views over to the Scafells, across to Harter Fell, and across to the Duddon Valley and Coniston; I particularly enjoyed the latter two because of the novelty/exploratory value of it. In addition, the Green Crag is very interesting and attractive, giving you views and extensive panoramas like a ‘miniature version’ of more adventurous terrain. I later read someone compare the crags to the Langdale Pikes, so other people have thought the same thing.

I was feeling a little dissatisfied because my ‘reference point’ is always a long and exciting romp in the high fells, with the satisfaction of completing a substantial route. This wasn’t one of those days but I enjoyed it nonetheless, and lingered over the photographic opportunities.

Day 4/Tuesday

Mist and haze again, worse than before. Another short walk was in order, because there was no point in expending energy on anything else. Decided on a short trek up to Blea Tarn, traversing the top of the valley along to the King George, and then back alongside the river Esk. Very pleasant but no more than a ramble; however what I did enjoy was the reappearance of the sun, later in the afternoon. In fact the weather cleared up so much I decided on another day: in the evening I phoned my B & B, the room was still free, and I duly installed myself again. The evening was delightful, and I spent an hour or two sunbathing and wandering slowly around the Eskdale fort plateau.

Day 5/Wednesday

Hurrah! I was very glad I’d decided to stay another day: I awoke to a sunny blue sky and the promise of a beautifully long, long day romping in the hills. Which is exactly what I got. I considered attempting Pillar again because I really do want to repeat it but it would have been a little repetitive and I wanted a more secure prognosis for good conditions, and in that respect an Eskdale based walk was a better option. Having made this mental adjustment to walking up to Scafell, I accepted that although I’d done it just a few weeks previously, it was good enough to really enjoy, yet again. Which is exactly what happened.

Scafell from Eskdale via Brotherilkeld Farm is a glorious walk which I would place in my top 5 favourites. You walk along the lovely valley, up to more rocky terrain and across Great Moss, for about 2 hours. This time I did it in less time actually, less than 1 hr. 45. You arrive at Cam Spout, scramble up beside it, begin to enter the substantial area below the Scafells, climb up a rocky gully, then a scree slope, and suddenly encounter vast panoramas at the summit, over to Wasdale, Gable and beyond. The descent is less exciting but still lovely, walking down the grassy Slight Side back down to the valley with continuing views of Upper Eskdale on your left, and views across to Burnmoor Tarn and the Irish sea on your right. The only concern seems to be at the end of this route, when you have to cut back across uncharted fields to find the return path you need; otherwise you have to traverse along the Eskdale valley and return along the road. I did that the last time, about 4 weeks ago, and did not want to do it again.

A marvellous walk, and I decided it’s one I will not worry about repeating. It will be a happy component of any trip alongside any other treks I wish to undertake, a favourite that is so rewarding it pays to repeat it.

I was happy. This is what I’d wanted, what I always want: an enjoyably long and dramatic walk in the sunshine. Back in the valley it was still sunny and pleasant and although I had resolved to return – in fact had something planned for the evening - I decided that in these clear conditions it was worthwhile staying a little longer. A quick phone call to the B & B and again the room was still free.

Day 6/Thursday

I should have gone back after the delights of the Scafell walk, having satisfied my yearnings at least on the last day. The first day was actually very good too, albeit that the pleasure was cut short with the failing light, but it seemed quite distant after contending with all the cloud of the previous few days. About one year ago I decided to return after poor weather and then regretted it because I think it became gloriously clear. Not this time though. I’d had enough of waiting around until about 2 or 3 pm for the sun to appear, and I set off home across Hardknott Pass.

I meandered around by driving over to the Langdales, Coniston, down the east and more scenic side of the latter, and further stopped off at Morecambe Bay and Lancaster. It was a little cheerless because of the grey skies, but reasonably entertaining to have a look around.