Lake District, June 2022: 2 – Ullswater, Castlerigg, Keswick

November 16, 2022November 16, 20221 Comment

Sunday 12 June

After a sound sleep I crawled out of my tent, collected Angus and Bosun and we walked a short way up the hill to look over Thirlmere valley. The farm’s inquisitive lambs came over to say hello and Bosun was very excited at the prospect of some wooly playmates, so he remained on a very tight lead. The wind had dropped and the sun shone through a thick layer of fluffy white cloud, making the valley look extremely green with its grassy belly and forested hillsides climbing above the dark water of Thirlmere reservoir. We decided that we did like the campsite after all, and headed back down the hill for a breakfast of cereal and dad-seared toast.

The forecast consisted of wind, cloud and rain, so rather than make ourselves miserable getting wet we decided to go on a boat trip around Ullswater, the national park’s north-easternmost and second largest lake. We bundled into the van and dad drove us to Glenridding, a pretty lakeside village. It was only about four miles from the campsite as the crow flies, but we had to circumnavigate the uncompromising bulk of the Eastern Fells which made it a twisty, scenic half hour trip.

Ullswater boat trip, Glenridding village

We parked in the large, central car park at Glenridding and hurried (unnecessarily) down to the ferry landing. We had a cup of tea in the cosy café on the water’s edge and boarded the Lady Wakefield at 11am. She was a medium sized passenger boat with lovely, glossy wood panelling on the deck and inside the large, two-storey cabin, which reminded me of an old train carriage with its rows of tables and chairs, tiny toilets and downstairs bar.

We sat out on the deck as the boat chugged along the long, thin lake. The banks on either side rose steeply above the water and Helvellyn sat behind us, its lofty ridge framed perfectly in the “U” between two curved slopes. Patches of dark forest peppered the grassy hillsides and the land undulated at random, occasionally flattening out enough for a house or two to nestle into the lower slopes, and everything all around the lake was some shade of green. It was lovely to be out on the water with such a unique, immersive view of the surrounding fells, even if the wind was a bit chilly.

As we passed Aira Force waterfall the loudspeaker told the tale of unfortunate Lady Emma, whose knight fiancé found her sleepwalking by the waterfall one night. As he tried to wake her she slipped and drowned in the water, so he lived out his days mourning in a nearby cave. Apparently she continues to haunt the 66-foot waterfall, which sadly can’t be seen from the lake. We also learned how poet William Wordsworth’s famous Daffodils poem (“I wandered lonely as a cloud…”) was inspired by the yellow banks of Ullswater in spring, and how the lake is one of only four in the world that contain the schelly, a fish in the salmon family.

The boat rounded a corner and stopped at Howtown, a cosy-looking hamlet at the base of high, grassy Hallin Fell and Loadpot Hill. A few people boarded and unboarded, then we carried on to Pooley Bridge at the northern tip of Ullswater. As we approached the hills flattened out and lost some of their wildness as rugged slopes gave way to neat farmland, and more buildings cropped up around the edge of the lake. At Pooley Bridge the captain warned against getting off the boat because the high winds meant they may cancel the later return trips to Glenridding, so we stayed on board. I didn’t mind – Pooley Bridge looked a bit too flat for my liking.

On the way back we sat and admired the view from the warm cabin, where I tracked our progress on a map and ate biscuits. Despite being an abnormally restful activity, it was quite nice sitting in comfort and looking at the mountains from afar, and the trip – about 17 miles there and back – was a lovely way to see the whole of Ullswater. When we were almost back at Glenridding I was delighted by the tiny, wild islands in the middle of the lake, one of which would have been perfect for a night in a hammock, and envious of whoever could afford to visit the posh hotel on the edge of the lake.

We got off at the pier and walked over to a beautiful lakeside meadow, where Bosun was unleashed to play in the water. We returned to the pretty village centre, nipped into a slightly-too-touristy shop to grab picnic bits, then waited near the car park for several weeks while mum shopped for a hiking pole. Only after I’d lost the will to live did we make it back to the van, then drove back to Bosun’s lakeside meadow for a picnic of sandwiches, crisps and biscuits – mother was redeemed.

Castlerigg Stone Circle

We left Glenridding about 2:30pm and drove back up the twisty road, then west along the A66 to Castlerigg Stone Circle. We parked in a layby and ambled over to the stones. The c.3000BC circle consists of 38 grey slabs, some above head height and some below knee height, is one of the oldest stone circles in the country, and is thought to have been used as a place for communities to meet, trade and hold religious ceremonies. It stands in a hilltop field that offers panoramic views west over Keswick, backed by the rolling, hazy blue Derwent fells, south over the rugged green valleys of Castlerigg, east over moor-like Threlkeld and north to the towering peaks of Blencathra and Skiddaw. It could only have been more atmospheric if we’d had the place to ourselves.

Keswick

After bimbling around the circle and gawping at the landscape, we went back to the van and headed down the hill into Keswick. I’m very fond of this town, with its pretty cobbled high street, multitude of outdoor shops and lakeside position on the northern edge of Derwentwater. We looked around the information shop in Moot Hall, a lovely, grey stone building plonked in the middle of the high street with a tall, distinctive clock tower that used to be a marketplace downstairs and a courthouse upstairs. We wandered down some back roads and spent a while in another historic building, now the George Fisher outdoor shop, which contained a lot of very nice, very beyond-my-budget gear.

Bored of shops, Ryan, Angus and I found our way through pretty, quirky streets to Hope Park, a lovely public space near the lake with lots of pretty flowers and little gardens. Then we found nearby Crow Park, a large green field full of sheep and geese that sweeps down to the northeastern edge of Derwentwater, and decided to bring mum and dad back later. We reconvened in the town, moved the van to a lakeside car park, had a cup of tea and headed back out to find somewhere for dinner. All the pubs were busy, but luckily mum and dad found the Pocket Café Bar, a tiny, independent pizza place. 10/10 would recommend – lovely pizza.

We returned to Crow Park to walk off dinner. A huge flock of Canada geese pecked and paddled around the water’s edge and the forested, perfectly round Derwent Isle sat neatly on the calm, glassy blue water. The lake was backed by the high green ridge of Cat Bells and the surrounding Derwent Fells rose and fell in hazy, sloping triangular layers. A short, circular walk took us along the lakefront, into a little wood where Bosun sneaked his way into the water, past a field of tall grass, which Bosun very clumsily chased me through, and back to the van via the sheep/goose field.

Dad drove us back to Thirlmere and we were once again amazed by the brightness of the night sky, which looked almost pale blue late into the evening. It was a lovely ending to a lovely day.

Lakes Rampage 2020, Day 8: Helvellyn

September 24, 2020Leave a comment

Thanks to our unplanned late night and the sorry state I was in (see last paragraph of previous post) we got up later than intended. By the time we’d queued for a parking ticket (a terrible experience), packed a couple of small rucksacks and set off towards Helvellyn along Mires Beck, the footpaths were heinously busy.

We looked up in horror at the multi-coloured ribbon of people stretching up the hill in front of us, cursing the fact that we hadn’t started earlier. People bumbled up in Doc Martens, flashy Nikes and clothing that looked a little too sparkly to be on the side of a mountain. We took every opportunity we could to overtake, flying past people grappling with umbrellas and theme-park type ponchos as it started to rain.

I think it’s wonderful that people are getting outdoors and appreciating our beautiful, wild landscapes, so long as everyone is respectful. Litter makes me furious, as do call-outs to Mountain Rescue due to inappropriate clothing and preparation. It sounds hypocritical as we were up there too, but this time, there were just a few too many people traipsing up for my liking.

Helvellyn in the clouds, Striding Edge on the left and Catstye Cam on the right

We did the steep climb onto Birkhouse Moor in good time, barely saying a word to each other as we rushed up for some less populated breathing space. The throng had subsided by the time the distinctive, jagged profile of Striding Edge came into view, so we slowed the pace and started to appreciate the rugged, green landscape. Helvellyn towered in the clouds above the black, slightly eerie Red Tarn, which sat between the two sharp ridges that lead up the mountain, Striding and Swirral Edge.

I’ve done Striding Edge once before, but Ryan hadn’t and he was a little disappointed. It’s a good, fun scramble, but there’s no real exposure and it feels very safe. The rock is good and we only needed to use our hands in a couple of places. I think it would have been a lot more fun if there were fewer people up there, as we got held up a lot and the busy-ness detracted from the wild, unforgiving feel that a rocky ridge should have. We noted all the crampon scratches on the rock and decided that it’d be a good one to come back to in winter.

At the end of the ridge, which is about half a mile long, we overtook some more groups and climbed up Helvellyn proper. On the summit plateau there’s a touching memorial to Foxie the dog whose master, in 1805, fell from the mountain and was found three months later with Foxie still barking by his side.

We were lucky in that by the time we reached the plateau, the cloud had lifted and we had a panoramic view of the dramatic mountainscape. The wild peaks of the Wythburn, Langdale, Borrowdale and Derwent Fells stretched in blue, hazy layers into the distance, and suddenly all the other people on the mountain seemed to fall away into insignificance.

We took a very quick trig point picture (well, three – see unsuccessful attempts below, when we both – true to form – managed to squint alternately) and continued along the plateau towards Swirral Edge, which flanks Helvellyn opposite Striding Edge. This part of the descent was a fun, but even easier and less exposed scramble than Striding Edge, and once again we had to do some overtaking. At the bottom we took the left branch of the footpath which took us up Catstye Cam, an easy 890m summit about a kilometre north east of Helvellyn.

The way down was less busy, very picturesque and so well-trodden that we almost forgot we were in the mountains. It joined the path that we’d hiked up earlier and, apart from the lovely, mountain-green scenery that I’ve already gushed over, quite unmemorable – so much so that with hindsight I’d guess that the hike back took 20 minutes, although it must have been longer as Glenridding was over two miles away.

We grabbed some food from one of the two convenience shops in the village, went back to the van to escape people for a little while, then wandered down to the edge of Ullswater. We looked out over the lake as the evening crept in, taking in the serenity of the vast, glassy surface with its high, rugged, green backdrop, glowing in the late sun. We just sat for a while, reflecting on how much fun our trip had been and silently resenting the fact that it was nearly over.

We headed back up to the Traveller’s Rest for one, then back to the van for Scrabble n chill. A good way to spend a Saturday night.

Lakes Rampage 2020, Day 7: Castlerigg, Aira Force, Glenridding

September 22, 2020Leave a comment

Sadly, our plan to climb Corvus was thwarted by a morning of intermittent heavy rain. We were bitterly disappointed but refused to mope around doing nothing, so after a quick look on Tripadvisor we went to Castlerigg Stone Circle, which was a twenty minute drive from our camping spot in the Borrowdale valley.

Castlerigg Stone Circle

Set against a 360 degree backdrop of rolling, green mountains dappled by the shadows of clouds, this Neolithic monument was very atmospheric. The perfect circle, apparently aligned with the sun and stars, was made up of 38 stones of varying heights between 2ft and 8ft, with a clear entrance marked by two huge stones and a rectangle of standing stones within. I’m intrigued by stone circles as their ancient significance remains unknown; I read that Castlerigg could have been a religious site, trading centre or other meeting place, but there’s been little excavation work carried out there and nobody’s really sure.

Having tried and failed to fathom the mystery of the circle, we traipsed back to the van and decided to head east across the north of the national park towards Helvellyn, which we planned to climb the next day. With no real plans, we pootled along and stopped in the Ullswater valley for a walk near Aira Force, a National Trust managed waterfall.

Aira Force

We followed a well-trodden footpath down from the car park and indulged in a short circular walk which followed both banks of the rocky, babbling Aira Beck, tucked away in an impossibly green woodland. It would have been idyllic if it weren’t so busy, with people congregating and faffing on the bridges and at the edges of the water. Furious, rushing masses of white water crashed down and were pacified by the calm river below, which carved its way through the land until reaching the next drop and morphing back into an unstoppable fall.

Glenridding

Impressed by the beauty of the spot but keen to get away from people, we went back to the van and drove into Glenridding, where we would begin our hike the next day. We tucked away in the far corner of the car park, which turned out to be a great overnight spot as it was discrete and right next to a dead end grassy bit of land ending in a river. It was only mid-afternoon and having had our climbing plans cancelled we felt a little lost, so we grabbed some supplies from the shop and had a drink at a picnic table in the middle of the village.

Glenridding is an attractive but busy place situated on the north eastern side of the Lake District, tucked between the south western end of Ullswater and the high sides of the hills, pikes and fells to the west. It has a small handful of shops all clustered into a small area, and the large car park (which has public toilets, an information centre and a large picnic area) is at the heart of the village, by the Ulls Water river.

We thought it rude not to try the pubbiest-looking pub in town, especially as it was called the Traveller’s Rest, up one of the residential streets at the west end of the village. We sat outside overlooking Glenridding and the high hills on the other side of the valley, listening to the bleating of the sheep in the adjacent field and enjoying our first, second and third pints. Before we knew it, we’d been there a couple of hours and I was drunk. We ate in the cosy pub, then headed down the hill to the Inn on the Lake, where we had one before Ryan guided me back to the van.

NB: final paragraph was pieced together from Ryan’s account and snippets of memory. Alcohol-related omissions were necessary.

How to Impulse trip: Lake District, June ’18

July 3, 2018July 4, 20181 Comment

The weather has been incredibly un-British for the past few weeks and the week before last I (practically) finished my LPC, Masters and a legal work placement. Naturally I was desperate to run away somewhere wild, so on Monday my adventure partner booked the rest of the week off work and that evening we decided to hit the Lake District. After previous stunningly beautiful but grey trips, I couldn’t resist the chance to see the mountains in the sun.

Tuesday 26 June

Late-night packing complete, we set off about 5.30am and arrived about midday after a Morrisons breakfast at Newcastle-under-Lyme. We found a basic National Trust campsite, Hoathwaite, by Coniston Water, and were pitched and raring to explore shortly afterwards.

I’d recommend the campsite any day: with direct access via a footpath down to a lakeside beach, it’s perfect to take your own kayak or SUP. It has toilets, showers, washing up basins and water taps – basic but clean and an absolute luxury for us, having got used to wild camping. The Old Man of Coniston cradles one side of the campsite, and there are lovely views over other mountains, trees and the glistening lake. It’s on a hill, but there are plenty of flat spots to camp, no marked pitches and plenty of space.

We walked the half-hour footpath to Coniston, along the lake and across big fields, to explore and recce the pubs. It’s a really pretty town with dark stone buildings and a lively centre, with about four pubs, three small supermarkets and a couple of outdoorsey and gift shops, cafes, a bakery and a butcher. We walked around, got some shopping and went back to the campsite.

We cooked early, semi-planned the next few days and went for a gentle 5k run (I’m still recovering from injury) back towards Coniston, stopping on the way back to skim stones on the water. Tired from late packing and early rising, we went to bed early and slept like sloths.

Wednesday 27 June

On Wednesday we drove to Ambleside to get a map of Helvellyn. I’ve always used Ordnance Survey but a helpful man in Blacks told me that Harveys maps are sometimes more practical, so I welcome any input on this. There are four OS maps of the Lake District and we only had the Southern two, so we invested in the others and briefly walked around the town. I remember liking Ambleside before; it has a really lively atmosphere, plenty to see and an abundance of outdoorsey shops which make it seem like a hub for adventurous, active people – more so than tourist-saturated Windermere.

We’d never been Stand Up Paddleboarding before and I’ve been desperate to try for ages, so we hired a couple of SUPs for three hours from Derwent Water Marina near Keswick. We chose to explore Derwentwater over Windermere as it’s quieter and wilder, and had an amazing time surrounded by clear water and blue mountains, stopping at a beach for lunch and a swim. I’ll write about this separately as I definitely have more to say.

After SUPing we drove to Glenridding to climb Helvellyn via Striding Edge, setting off about 4.30pm in 30 degree heat. There’s a tourist path straight up the Western side but I wasn’t interested – I’d read about approaching from the East in The Great Outdoors magazine and insisted on the more picturesque, lengthy and difficult route.

Although sketchy at times, I loved scrambling up Striding Edge (much more so than Bertie) and reaching the clear, sunny summit of the tabletop mountain (third highest in England) at about 7pm – I couldn’t find words to do the clear blue and lilac, layered mountain panorama justice. I’ll write separately on the route we took. We got back to the car about 10pm and made it to Wetherspoons in Keswick with 10mins to spare, thanking heaven that they serve food until 11.

Thursday 28 June

We got up with the sun and walked down to Coniston Water to have breakfast by the lake and read books. We’d planned to hire bikes for the day and explore as far as we could get, but drove an hour through tiny country roads to Eskdale to find the place closed. Although a lovely drive, we’d seen that area before and I was cross at the wasted morning. I’d wanted to call to book but Bertie just wanted to get there, and he took about ten years searching the car for his lost wallet (because he left it in a stupid place) so he secured a place in my bad books.

We had a drink at the Woolpack pub and used the Wifi to find an alternative bike place. It was between hiring from Keswick and cycling the roads/bridleways, or from Whinlatter forest and doing proper mountain bike trails. I wasn’t aware of Whinlatter until then but had loved Grizedale previously, so it was a no-brainer for me.

After another hour-long drive, we picked up a couple of nice Cube hardtails for three hours and did the North loop of the Altura Trail (graded red / “difficult”, 9.5km) in 1-1.5 hours followed by the Quercus trail (blue / “moderate”, 7.5km) in less than an hour. I would have loved to have done the Altura South loop too but we didn’t have time, and I think Bertie – being less keen and confident than me (but probably equally skilled) – had had enough of expecting to die at any second. He was back in my good books as I loved it so much – long, fast, swooping sections of singletrack, tricky technical sections and berms to die for. That’ll be another post too, and I’ve sworn to return to the South loop.

That evening we walked to the Yewdale Inn at Coniston, ate pizza (which I highly recommend, generous amount of cheese) and drank cider while England lost to Belgium.

Friday 29 June

On Friday morning we packed up, got some barbecue food for lunch and took the kayak out on Coniston Water. Once again, the sun was blaring down and it was so peaceful; there was barely anyone else on the water. We stopped at Peel Island, which could have been straight out of a holiday brochure; leafy, rocky and surrounded by clear water. I swam around, not thinking of the Coniston pike I’d google imaged that morning.

We left and paddled back under a clear blue sky, surrounded by forests and mountains. It was surprisingly hard work against the breeze and we were starving. Eventually we got back to the beach, barbecued sausages and burgers, read for a while and went for a swim around the clear water. It was warm in the still shallows, but it was such a hot day that the cooler, deeper water was a relief. It shelved steeply and I came across a few small perch. The algae-covered stones were really slippery, and being naturally un-graceful I fell over and cut my leg. Dignity shattered, I dragged myself away from the water and packed up sadly.

The drive home was uneventful; we left about 5.30pm, had a meal deal at Preston and otherwise only stopped at Warwick Services, arriving home in Winchester just before 1am (thanks to loads of 50mph limits and a partially closed A34). We were up quite early on Saturday and spent the day enjoying our annual charity golf competition but already missing the North. We’d been blessed with mid-twenties to early-thirty degree heat the whole time, did loads of activities (the only disappointment was that I ran out of time for bouldering) and saw a lot of the Lake District under clear blue skies. I can’t wait to return.