It's a Hard Knott Life...

 It was the weekend of the Royal Wedding - Prince Harry was marrying the American Actress Meghan Markle down in Windsor on Saturday... but I wasn't invited & wasn't really into all the pomp that goes with those things. Instead, the weather forecast was looking fine for a mid-May weekend, and as it was my half day Friday it would be a tragedy if I didn't throw my pack in the boot of my car as I had done many times before, and head up the M6 to my beloved Lake District.... but whereabouts?

I decided that seeing as my visit to Hardknott Fort earlier in the month had been in cloudy & damp conditions, I'd head over that way & pay a visit to the area in better conditions. Instead of heading there via the Wrynose & Hardknott passes, I would try a different way.

I turned off the A591 just before Kendal, taking the A590, passing Newby Bridge & heading south west before taking the turning heading west, then on increasingly narrowing roads north towards Seathwaite & soon after reached the Birks Bridge car park. This was Forestry Commission land.

After strapping on my boots & rucksack, I crossed Birks Bridge following the forest road into the pine forest. I took the first turning to the right and the road gradually ascended. I was on the look out for another turning on the left, which, according to the map was another forest track which weaved its way up past Crook Crags, and met up with the bridleway to Hardknott Pass.

Atfer a few minutes walking however, I checked the GPS on my phone & spotted that apparently I had missed the turning - which was odd. I headed back the way I came, eagerly checking my GPS & the ground for this turning - but there was none to be found - only a very narrow, densely overgrown gap in the woodland. I took it to mean that the forest track I was hoping to follow had gone into disrepair and had been reclaimed by the woods.

So - plan B - I headed back down the track to Birks Bridge - only a quarter of a mile, if that, and followed the main forest road through the pine forest. After about half a mile, I saw a stump with a blue plastic arrow on it, which way marked the start of the bridleway.

Legally, on a bridleway, as well as walking, you can ride horses, & cycle - but I doubt your be able to do either of the latter on this particular path. Through the woodland the path was very narrow, and in places very boggy, and this continued for about a mile. It was sweet relief though, when I reached the edge of the forest, the moorland landscape opening up to reveal the sunlit fells. From this point, the view to my right was the most impressive, looking at the back of the Coniston fells, of Great Carrs & the ridge from Swirl How over to Coniston Old Man.

I continued to follow the path, which became indistinct in places, but I knew if I just headed direct north, I would eventually reach the Hardknott Pass. and not long after, I did.

There was a lone biker on the top of the pass, who, as I walked by, asked me to take his photograph, to which I kindly obliged. After a brief chat, we went on our separate ways. I walked along the Hardknott Pass literally for just a few dozen yards where I reached the summit of the pass, marked by a large cairn, and found the path towards the summit of Hardknott fell itself.

The initial climb was steep - although I had already walked a few miles with my camping gear - and the terrain was not really what I was expecting. I though it would be a straight-forward ascent onto a summit plateau, & a simple stroll to the summit.

Instead, after the ascent from the path, I found myself surrounded by rocky knolls, with some quite deep peat hags between them. It was a matter of carefully following the path between the knolls & around the peat hags before the the summit knoll showed itself. The path ascended the slop between the summit knoll & a smaller knoll, before the path turned sharply up to the summit, which required a very slight scramble - which was all good fun. It was about 7:20pm & the sun was still shining brightly in the late spring evening, but now I had reached the summit (#116 - Hard Knott - 1803 ft), it was time to find a pitch to raise my tent.

I headed down off the summit knoll, and headed west where I was above the slopes looking down into Upper Eskdale with the spectacular backdrop of the Scafell massif. After surverying a couple of spots, I finally settled on a flat patch above some crags, which also overlooked the Eskdale Needle - a 50 foot column of rock jutting up from the slopes of Hard Knott - although from my position the Needle paled into insignificance with the mountain backdrop.

I had a few neighbours for a couple of hours as well, as a herd of Herdwick sheep lingered around the area. I ignited my Jet-boil and got my dinner cooking. I'd opted for a boil-in-the-bag 'Look What We Found' Chicken Hotpot meal this time, which I had had in my cupboards for a while.

I had kept putting this one off in favour of the Tikka Masala that they do. But, accompanied by some Idahoan Instant Mash with Herbs, it was actually very nice - with plenty of chicken & veg in a tasty sauce. I washed it down with a couple of ciders & beers & watched a glorious sunset over the Ennerdale fells to the north west before settling down for the night.

It was a very still night - hardly any wind rustling the tent, and it stayed relatively light well after sunset - with just a faint glow in the sky to the north.

The villages of Eskdale slowly started to light up with their orange streetlights, as did the towns further west, nearer the coast.

Above, there was hardly any cloud - it looked as though it was going to be a clear night. I put my head down on the pillow & drifted off...

I can't remember exactly why - maybe it was a passing sheep - but I woke around 01:30 AM & poked my head out of the door. Everywhere was pitch black - but the villages & towns through Eskdale to the sea were still lit....then I looked up.

I can now fully appreciate why they say camping is like staying in a 'Billion Star' hotel - as that is what was above me...

...And even at this time, there was still a faint glow of twilight in the sky.

I made the most of it, and for half an hour or so, took the opportunity to practise some astrophotography. My favourite shot from the night being of the twilight glow & the stars above the Scafells, towering over the roof of England, and just showing how even England's highest mountain is a diminutive speck in this vast universe. But eventually, tiredness crept over me, and I headed back to bed.

By the time I woke I had missed the sunrise - the crags of the Hard Knott summit knoll towering behind my tent meant I didn't have the best tent-side view for it anyway - but it was still relatively early - about 7:45 AM - a time I don't normally see on a Saturday morning!

I brewed a coffee, and had a couple of breakfast cereal bars whilst admiring the view, before packing away my tent - leaving no trace - and heading on my way.

I would be heading back down the route to Hardknott Pass, but before then wanted to pay a visit to the rocky knoll of Border End - one of Hard Knott's subsidiary summits, which overlooked the pass, Eskdale & the Roman Fort. I was hoping to get a decent 'birds-eye-view' of the fort from this vantage point.

Instead of following the main path, I stuck to the ridge-line overlooking Upper Eskdale and Border End eventually came into view. I headed up its narrow grassy slopes, between rocky crags, and past stagnant pools before reaching the top. The flanks of the summit of Border End actually blocked the view of the fort, so I descended west slightly for a better view, and thats when the valley opened up...

Hard Knott fort lay in the foreground & from this point you could clearly see the outer wall & the foundations of the three buildings inside. You could understand why the Roman legion chose this location for the fort, with uninterrupted views over the fields of Eskdale right down to the Irish sea.

I turned back, retraced my steps over Border End & picked up the path down to Hardknott Pass, stopping to filter some water from the beck on the way.

My next stop would be Harter Fell. This mountain stood on its own, and is pyramid shaped, similar what you would expect a child to draw if asked to picture a mountain. 🗻

My route retraced my steps from the previous night & headed due south. But before reaching the gate to head back into the Forestry Commission land, my path turned west & up the slopes of Harter Fell.

It was another hot day & the sun was baking. I climbed steadily and on reaching a grassy shoulder, decided to head off the path to the top of some nearby crags on the northern slope. From here, the view looking north was again looking to the Scafell's in the distance, but this time also had the Roman fort in front of shot.

It seemed surprisingly quiet at the fort, with a small herd of sheep being it's only visitors. The were more people there when I visited the fort a month earlier in low cloud & damp conditions!

I continued on for the last push to the top. A more distinct path appeared, stone pitched steps winding their way to the summit.

The summit area had been arranged by the gods into a triangular shape. Three rocky knolls on each corner, with a small grassy plateau in the middle. I headed towards the trig point on the highest of the three knolls.

There were actually a few folks hanging around this area. A couple were sunbathing on the grass, a lone hiker reading his Wainwright book just behind the trig point & a group of lads scrambling to the top of the highest rocky knoll.

I 'bagged' the trig point - the official summit - and found a spot nearby to have a quick snack.

The true summit - the highest point on the fell - was the top of the rocky knoll the three lads had now reached. I consulted my Wainwright book and found the route up - a short scramble up a gully to the top from around the back of the knoll. I took off my rucksack and left it at the bottom of the scramble to make it a bit easier for myself.

In no time at all I found myself perched on the top, taking in the magnificent 360 degree views all round.

(#117 - Harter Fell (Eskdale) - 2,140 ft)

Shortly after, I clambered back down, & ventured up the second highest knoll, this was a shorter scramble, but the top of the knoll was much wider and flatter than the true summit.

I eventually headed back down & collected my rucksack. Crossing the central grassy plateau, I picked up the path heading south down the slope, passing a few walkers heading up.

The path gradually & steadily descended on pleasant slopes until I reached the boundary fence for the Forestry Commision land - guarded by a handful of Herdwick Sheep - but they moved on quickly when they heard me approaching.

After passing through the kissing gate, the terrain changed dramatically. The path narrowed and descended a lot faster now, snaking down the much steeper fell-side.

Carefully watching my step as I navigated the partly scree-covered path, the track began to flatten out as it entered the woodland, but still remainder narrow - if not narrower with the surrounding trees.

As I discovered the previous evening, this path through the woods also had some very boggy patches, and I had to have a spring in my step as I bog-trotted my way through. The way through was marked with wooden posts every so often that had been plunged into the ground as best they could. I persevered on, grabbing onto birch tree's for stability & putting my faith in the ground on the other side being firm as I leaped across the worst of the bog.

Finally, & with great relief, I found my way out of the woodland and on to the forest road. This was my way back. From then on, it was a straight forward route, following the road back to Birks Bridge & my car.

It was around lunchtime when I reached my car, and so to end the trip on a high, I drove in the direction of Little Langdale. The day was getting hotter and there were alot of people out, some paddling in the river at Cockley Beck, & plenty of cyclists & motorcyclists tackling the Wrynose Pass.

The drive over Wrynose Pass was much more pleasant than when I came over it in low cloud back in May & dropped down the other side into Little Langdale valley .

The narrow, weaving, hedge-lined roads along the valley floor meant I had to take my time driving along until I reached the tiny hamlet named after the valley, and the only pub in the area - The Three Shires Inn.

This one was of the iconic Lakeland Inns I'd looked at a number of times - due to it being the only lodging in the valley, it's relatively expensive to stay over, but I'd heard good things about it's food.

I parked up outside the slate-walled building & headed inside to order food & an ice cold drink.

Soon after, I was sat outside, in the sunshine, tucking into a locally sourced steak burger & a diet coke.

A great way to end another fantastic camping trip - and probably the best wild camp pitch I've found so far!

Mark