Central Lakes Getaway Part 5: Watendlath-ly Way to End the Week

 Friday 8th June 2018

I woke early, unzipped the door to my tent and peered outside. It was clear, and to the north east the sky was glowing with the morning dawn. A few light clouds lingered which caught the sunlight, turning shades of orange, red & pink. It was the start of a glorious final day in the Lakes.

As the sun slowly rose over the northern fells, I got a few snaps, and leisurely brewed a coffee to wake me up, as well as munching down a couple of cereal bars. Something caught my eye & I glimpsed in the opposite direction of the sunrise, and saw the fells of the Buttermere ridge catching the first light of the day - the top of Red Pike emphasising it's name.

An hour or two later, after packing away my tent, I headed back down to my car at Newlands Hause, retracing the route up. Whilst back at the car, I unloaded my gear and took the opportunity to walk over to Moss Force, a waterfall which cascades not too far from the road, just a minutes walk. Taking my Sawyer Squeeze pouch with me, I filled it up with water from the falls, and then filtered it into my water bottle.

I got in my car, and headed back down to Buttermere, driving along the lake-shore road, back towards the Honister Pass in the direction of Buttermere. At the top of the pass I decided to pull into the Honister Slate Mine for a look around. There has been a slate mine on the site for about 950 years, starting with the Norman's mining its unique green slate from the depths of Fleetwith PIke.

A lot of the more recent mine workings can still be seen in the area today - from vast spoil heaps, to the remains of 18th &19th century 'sledge ways', old mine-cart railway tracks & work-sheds on the fell, which have since been converted into habitable mountain bothies.

Honister slate can actually be found on such iconic buildings as Buckingham Palace & St Paul's Cathedral in London.

This is the last operational mine in England, and had now started catering more for tourists - offering guided mine tours as well as a Via Ferrata obstacle course for adrenaline seekers.

Now-a-days, the old tramway foundations intersecting the top of the Honister Pass road are home to large slate sculptures - gate keepers - keeping watch over the pass & the travellers who make their way over it.

It was quite a quirky place. The main building being a cafe, gift shop and also a slate works. I passed on the mine tour this time round, and had a nosey around the shop.

Heading back out, I got back in my car, and headed down the Borrowdale side of the pass, & onto the small village of Rosthwaite & the start of today's walk.

I pulled into the National Trust car park & got an All Day Ticket, booted up, slung on the ruck sack, and headed east-wards. Just on the outskirts of the village was a turn off which headed to the Hazel Bank Hotel - and old Victorian Hotel in private grounds.

After crossing the bridge over Stonethwaite Beck, but before reaching the Hotel gates, my footpath veered right to follow the beck towards Stonethwaite, and the Langstrath valley once again.

I would be sticking on this path, not venturing into Stonethwaite village, but following the north-eastern shoreline of Stonethwaite Beck.

If I had stayed on this path it would have took me back up towards Greenup from the day before, but whiclst still on flat ground, after a mile or so, I spotted a path splitting off to the left - this was my turning, and the start of the climb onto Great Crag.

The path was fine to start with, gradually climbing before entering some woodland. After crossing a stile however, things changed. The path turned into stone-pitched steps, which rose quite steeply zig-zagging up the hill side.

I kept moving, and caught up to a walking group. I was grateful for their slightly slower pace (no disrespect intended - the more people walking in a group, the slower the group will move). But as a few of them stopped for a breather, I headed on through the pack.

The steep steps went on, until reaching the top of the tree line, and a small flat spot on top of a crag - known as Lingy End - which commanded a fantastic view over the Langstrath valley. If i had reached this spot a minute or two earlier, I would have seen a fighter plane hurtling its way through the valley, but unfortunately I just heard its loud roar from within the sanctuary of the woods.

The steps were left behind at this point, as a less-taxing path weaved its way between the crags on towards Dock Tarn. This is another little surprise jewel hidden away from normal day trippers - quite a large tarn nestled below surrounding crags.

Waterlilies were beginning to flower, and colourful damselflies were buzzing around in the heat of the midday sun. The path twisted & turned following the shoreline until reaching a junction. Headin gthe on would take me over to Watendlath - but before I was planning to head back there, I took the turning left, between a couple of grassy crags. The path narrowed, and skirted the edges of some boggy areas, before beginning to climb up one of the more prominent crags - and at the top of this was a cairn - #132 - Great Crag - 1,500 ft.

The neighbouring crag also had a cairn on its peak, and was almost at equal height, so I headed over to that cairn as well just to make sure I had bagged both. Watendlath Tarn was a mile or so away, just down the hillside, glistening in the sunlight.

After a quick rest-stop, I set off to join up with the track heading down to Watendlath. The terrain was boggy at first, but the path was well engineered & kept my feet dry. As it descended the fellside, the track turned into a rough farm road which then followed the western shoreline. I reached the old pack-horse bridge at the northern end of the tarn, and crossed it into the hamlet.

On researching this walk, and reading up a bit more on Watendlath itself, I had read that the tea shop in the hamlet was well known for its cakes.

I headed to to the Caffle House tea room, through its gardened seating area, and into the quaint building. I spotted a slice of sicilan lemon cake was available, so decided to get a slice - soley for research purposes, of course!

I grabbed a table outside & was the only person there. In the peace & quiet I tucked into the amazing lemon cake whilst watching a chaffinch and sparrows bobbing around in the hedgerow & now and again hopping onto the table.

It wasn't long after when the walking group I had passed earlier in the day headed into the gardens, and that was my cue to make a move - and I had one fell left to climb on this trip.

Heading out of the tearooms, I spotted two chaps sat in a small wooden fishing boat in the middle of the tarn, casting off their rods. I wonder if they would catch anything?

Returning over the packhorse bridge, a bridleway forked off towards Grange Fell. This was yet another old packhorse route linking Watendlath with Rosthwaite. I would follow this to the highest point of the track at Puddingstone Bank , before diverting off-path towards the fell's summit.

Although I was 'off-path' there was a trod to follow through the grass, and large step stiles to help traverse the stone walls. Once again twisting & turning between the shapely crags, the trod became more distinct, and eventually reached higher ground, and onto the summit knoll - individually named Brund Fell.

The summit itself was a large, rocky outcrop, but in an alcove next to it was a small patch of perfect turf. I made a mental note for it to be a potential wild camp spot in future. (#133 - Grange Fell - 1,363ft)

On the last part of my trek, I had felt one of my straps on my rucksack become a bit loose, so I took it off for closer inspection.

I had had trouble with it once before, after my walk up Pike O' Blisco in the winter of 2017 when the strapping had frayed and come loose. It was nothing a bit of gaffer tape couldn't fix though.

But this time, the strapped was just being held on by one thread. I checked inside my rucksack & realised I had left my gaffer tape in my camping rucksack! The tape I had on there already was gnarled up & couldn't be reused. I did have my first aid kit on me though (as should always be the case), and in there was a safety pin, which I used to hold together the strap - for now. It only needed to last a couple more miles as I was on the home leg of my hike.

From the summit of Grange Fell, I followed the path between the knolls towards King's How. Although not the summit, this was a prominent knoll on Grange fell. It was quite humid, and high-level clouds were drifting overhead. A couple of times I had to re-adjust the safety pin holding the rucksack straps together. I then reached a wire fence running over the fell. What was curious about this was that there were two stiles right next to each other. I put it down to a 'his & her's stile - similar to when you get two sinks in posh hotel bathrooms.

I crossed the stile on the right, and headed along the path which began to climb quite steeply up the knoll through thick summer-time vegetation.

King's How wasn't just a name - it had royal connections, being purchased in 1910 by the National Trust on behalf of Princess Louise, sister of King Edward VII, as a memorial to the monarch.

The views from the top are also of a regal standard. Although not the summit (it's height being 1,286 feet), its prominent position on the edge of the fell commands fantastic views north over the entirety of Derwentwater, to Keswick & the Skiddaw mountain range.

I had a potter around the summit to see if I could find the plaque which dedicates to fell to King Edward VII, but was unable to locate it (& gives me an excuse to try again another day).

So instead, I made my way south, off the top, which would take me back down the fell & to the Borrowdale road to Rosthwaite.

The path was the usual upland stroll for starters, but as it began to descend, the summer bracken began to grow. Thicker & higher it became as the narrow, overgrown path entered some woodland, and with the humidity it felt like walking in a rain forest. On some parts of the path, the bracken was getting to a good 5 foot tall! This would be a 'tick-city'. I had read that ticks would sit on the edge of bracken fronds waiting for any animal that brushes past, for the tick to grab a ride, and a bloody meal. And there were alot of fronds I would need to brush past.

Luckily I got through unscathed. At the end of the forest path I rejoined the bridleway coming over from Watendlath to Red Brow, and could see the road at the end of the track.

Just before reaching the road, however, I spotted a path which ran south alongside Frith Gill, an offshoot of Stonethwaite Beck, so I decided to follow. Sure enough, the path took me back to the outskirts of Hazel Bank Hotel, which I had passed at the start of the journey & the short road-side walk back to the car park.

Epilogue

Before driving back home I wanted one last meal. I had heard good reviews of the Scafell Hotel in Rosthwaite. This was just round the corner from the National Trust car park as well, so headed over. Unfortunately, it was only 4:30 pm, and they didn't start serving food until 6pm.

Instead, I went with plan B, and drove north through Borrowdale, taking the turn off for Grange & following the road below Catbells terrace towards Braithwaite.

There was a pub there I knew would be serving good pub grub - the Coledale Inn at Braithwaite.

I went into the bar & ordered a Steak & Ale pie with chips.

It was still quite warm, but clouds were drifting in. I manged to find a table in the beer garden outside, but in the shade. It was quite busy and if I had been just a few minutes later the table would have gone!

What came next was a monster-sized portion of food - way more than its price tag suggested - but after the hikes I had undertaken this week - it was well received & I finished the lot!

Mark