Helvellyn - Wildcamping at 3000ft

I always considered Helvellyn to be one of the 'tourist's mountains. Along with Scafell Pike & Catbells, it was one of the fells that everyone who had visited the area was keen to say they had climbed. It wasn't until I read Wainwright's detailed 28 page chapter in his Guide to the Eastern Fells that I realised that there was much more to it.

From its rich history, central location, and numerous routes of ascent, I set out a plan to ascend the Helvellyn ridge, but to tick off some of its sister peaks before summiting Helvellyn itself - that was to be my 70th fell since beginning the Wainwrights.

When most people think of Helvellyn, they also think of its famous 'edges' - Striding Edge & Swirral Edge. Both ascended from either Patterdale or Glenridding on the Ullswater side of the peak, the path of ascent traverses on top of the narrow rock ridges, some 650 feet above the valley floor. However, I would be saving that route for another day, and instead would tackle Helvellyn from its western side, from Thirlmere.

Just north of Grasmere, over Dunmail Raise on the A591 is Wythburn car park - named after one of the villages flooded in the creation of Thirlmere reservoir. From the car park, the route doesn't pull any punches, and the ascent starts straight away through the pine trees of Thirlmere forest. The pine trees soon fall away though, and the open fellside is reached.

This is a well trodden path up Comb Gill, over Comb Crags and over Birk Side to reach the first peak: Nethermost Pike. Infact there were quite a few other walkers heading up, and some could be seen higher up the path, silhouetted against the sky as they were walking along the crags. As the path went higher, the views over Thirlmere opened up. The weather forecast was sunshine and cloud, and luckily, for once it was right.

I stopped on top of Comb Crags to eat the sandwich I'd packed. I was about 2/3rds of the way up, but the steepest part of the climb was done. I could see the path ahead - a relatively steady gradient on excellent paths.

It wasn't long until I reached the col at Swallow Scarth. To my left, just shy of half a mile away was the Helvellyn summit - and it looked busy with tourists - but I turned right, and onto the summit of Nethermost Pike - 2,920 feet. The summit area itself was very rocky, with sharp weathered stones forcing their way out of the otherwise grassy terrain. However moving slightly away from the summit was a very wide grassy plateau. I wandered over to the edge of the ridge and was treated to stunning views over the valleys down towards Ullswater.

This, I thought, would be an ideal place to pitch my tent later in the day...

In the middle-distance was also the narrow ridge of Striding Edge, and I could make out adventure seekers traversing & scrambling their way over the top.

The views to the west weren't bad either. Over the grassy slopes, the whole of the western fells were laid out end-to-end, from the Coniston Fells in the south, past the Langdales, the unmistakable domed peaks of Great Gable and Pillar, the the Buttermere ridge, and the north western Grasmoor group and Skiddaw to the north.

I headed south along the ridge, over the subsidiary peak of High Crag and onto Dollywagon Pike - 2,815 feet.

This is where the main Helvellyn ridge ends. To the south is a steep path heading down to Grisedale Tarn, a mountain crossroads if ever there was one, which has routes heading back down to Grasmere, up onto Fairfield peak, or onto St Sunday Crag, where I did my first wildcamp earlier this year.

For me, I turned tail and strolled back along the ridge, over Nethermost Pike, and back to the col at Swallow Scarth. But this time I carried straight on. The summit of Helvellyn was right infront of me, just half a mile to go.

It was a wide, straight gravelled path with a steady incline. I picked up a small rock from the path, to place on the summit cairn.

Only 10 minutes later I was walking past the large cross shaped wind shelter, and onto the summit rocks, and reached out to place the rock onto the cairn. Considering the wide expanse of the summit plateau the true summit area was quite small, a protrusion out of the rest of the mountain. I took a few snaps before moving on.

There were quite a few people about, and I could hear a french couple behind me walking towards the summit cairn, so as not to be a 'summit-hogger' I followed the main path along the summit crest.

Think of Helvellyn summit as a large 'U' shape & you're looking east. The sides of the 'U' are Swirral Edge on the left, and Striding Edge on the right, with the bottom of the 'U' being the crest in between.

Around the middle of the summit crest is one of the now defunct Ordnance Survey trig pillars, which were used to help cartographers map the landscape back in the day. These were set out in such a way that in clear weather they could view at least 2 other trig pillars on the landscape using their instruments.

From here there was a spectacular view down between the two ridges to Red Tarn, a small lake nestled in the cove between the two edges & the summit crags. From this viewpoint I could spot a few campers had already set up their tents by the side of the tarn, bathing their feet in the water. Beyond Red Tarn was the pyramid shaped peak of the oddly named fell, Catstye Cam, and beyond that Ullswater & the Far Eastern fells of the High Street range.

I wandered around the summit plateau, saw the huge cairn which marked the path down to Swirral Edge (not today, thank you!), and the wide path that would be my route off the mountain tomorrow morning, heading past Helvellyn Lower Man, a subsidiary summit, then back down to the north eastern shore of Thirlmere.

But for now, it was time to find a pitch and set up the tent. I wandered back to the summit cairn, and followed the ridge path round, past the junction where the path turned off down to Striding Edge (definitely not today, thank you!) and found a sizeable memorial.

It detailed that in 1805 the remains of Charles Gough, an artist visiting the area from Manchester, were found below the crags the memorial sits atop. The story goes that three months after Gough went missing, a Shepherd in the area heard barking near to Red Tarn. On investigating, he found Gough's dog, Foxie, still alive & guarding her master's skeleton. It also goes on to say that the tragedy was written about by famous Lakeland poets, William Wordsworth in his 1805 ode "Fidelity", and Walter Scott's 1806 poem, simply titled "Helvellyn".

It was pause for thought, especially as a man had fallen from Striding Edge & sadly died earlier in the week.

I followed the path along the rim, and found a perfect small flat pitch to raise my tent, next to a small grassy knoll overlooking Striding Edge to the east and the whole of western Lakeland to the west.

Soon after, the tent was up, everything was unpacked, and dinner was on the go. Meatballs & mash was on the menu, with a Magner's cider to wash it down. All whilst watching the sunset sat on the grassy knoll.

Soon after though, it was pitch black. The moon was out and, looking east I could see the town of Pooley Bridge twinkling at the northern end of Ullswater. The temperature had started to drop, so I got back in the tent and settled down for the night....

...And then the wind picked up. It was the early hours of the morning when it started. I could here the gusts of wind swirling in the cove below Striding Edge, and every now and again a gust would strike the tent, causing the outer layer to flap harshly for a few seconds, before calming down again. However, nearly everytime I fell back asleep the 'wooshing' noise of another impending gust woke me up.

I was then awoken by my alarm at 05:50am. I had managed a few hours of on-and-off sleep. After the strong winds I wasn't expecting much of a view outside the tent....the winds were surely blowing in the cloud from the weather front that had been forecast to hit today.

How wrong I was! There was a touch of cloud, but just high enough to give an amazing show of colour as the sun began to rise. I grabbed my camera and started a time lapse going.... and put the Jetboil on to brew a coffee. It wasn't until half an hour later when the sun actually appeared over the horizon. A blood red ball of fire!

No sooner had it risen though, that the fantastic show of colour I had witnessed had come to an end.

I packed up the tent, and slung my rucksack on my back. Its wasn't a very warm morning, so I had both my fleece and jacket on. As I headed across to the more open side of the hillside & ascended back to the summit it was clear that the wind was a lot stronger. It wouldn't be very sensible to get close to the edge of any crags today, so I stuck firmly to the path. About 5 minutes from the summit I spotted a small plaque just to the side of the path, so went closer to investigate.

It documented that, on this spot on 22nd December 1926, two pilots became the first people to land a Avro 585 Gosport aeroplane on a mountain in Great Britain, and "after a short stay, flew back to Woodford."

I took shelter behind the wind shelter on the summit, before following the wide path again over the summit and across to Helvellyn Lower Man. I spotted blue tape tied to some stones, and small bright orange plastic arrows propped up by small cairns, which I though were a bit odd.

I reached the Lower Man summit, which was very exposed to the wind, and didn't spend any longer there than I had to, and quickly headed back down. It was a strong southerly wind that was rushing up the slopes and made walking quite arduous, so steadily followed the path north to the steps at Browncove Crags. Once there the descent began, and luckily as I began to lose altitude, the strength of the wind lessened as well.

It wasn't long before I reached the footbridge over the beck at the bottom of the fell, and just round the corner was Swirls car park. It was then a matter of finding the forest track which I would need to follow for a mile or two back to Wythburn car park.

I was expecting a leisurely & level stroll through woodland, but the track, which was more of a gravel road soon gained some height and dipped and rose following the contours of the fellside, and it was around 200 feet above the lake. The wind was picking up again. The tall pine trees were swaying & rustling in the wind & from the lofty position, I could see the white water breaking on the lake below.

Soon enough though, I reached the footpath which lead back down the hillside to Wythburn & my car.

As I drove out of the car park I was caught up in a Sunday morning cycle race which followed the A591 down through Grasmere and into Ambleside, before they turned off at the Struggle up to Kirkstone Pass.

Intrigued, I checked the internet when I got home and discovered it was all part of the Helvellyn Triathlon which was being held that day - a 1 mile swin in Ullswater, 38 mile cycle race, then a 9 mile fell run onto Helvellyn - the arrows & tape I spotted on the summit earlier were marking the route!

Mark