Wasdale Wanderings (2 of 2)

 Another packed day was in store - it was looking to be a glorious day, so I was hoping to rack up some more miles underfoot, bag a few new fells, and end with a wild camp on top of the Wasdale Screes.

It was my last evening in the Bower House Inn. I was sat at my table in the restaurant, and ordered a Loweswater Gold to quench my thirst. Perusing the menu, I was intrigued with the Moroccan Lamb Pudding.

The menu described it as "slow cooked Cumbrian lamb marinated in Moroccan spices with caramelised red onions, encased in suet pastry with rich Moroccan gravy, spiced vegetable tagine & fresh mint yogurt." My taste buds were tinging just from reading. I took a punt, and ordered it.

I was pleasantly surprised. It was very tasty, and had a good amount of spice behind it that I finished my pint, and ordered a second! Needless to say the plate was clean when the waitress came to collect it.

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The next morning, I was the third person downstairs for breakfast. Again I had a 'small' Cumbrian breakfast, as it set me up well yesterday, needing only snacks during my hike, so was hoping the same would apply today.

After breakfast, I packed up, checked out & headed north from the Inn, just a few minutes away was Wasdale. It was a stunning morning with clear blue skies & I could feel it was going to be a warm late-summers day. As I drove along the lake-shore road, I saw plenty of cars already parked up, with people taking photo's and enjoying 'England's Best View'. I couldn't resist, found a parking spot & jumped out to get a quick shot myself.

This is the third time I've taken a shot from this location - and each one has been different. The first time was back in November 2017 on my first visit to Wasdale, when I took my parents. That was a cold, grey & windy day. The second time was in May 2018 on my Western Lakes Getaway. That day was a bit warmer, less windy, but still grey. This was the first time I had seen 'the view' with clear blue skies, and it was something to behold!

I jumped back in my car, and at the t-junction, took the turning away from the lake which loops back to Nether Wasdale. A short drive along this road however leads to the tiny hamlet of Greendale (no, not the one Postman Pat lives in!).

I pulled up to a small parking area on the verge, which was also at the end of the footpath for today's walk. The start of the walk, however, was just over half a mile away up the road.

Following the road west, the footpath appears at a widening in the road & turns north to follow the side of a beck, through a few trees before heading up the fellside of Buckbarrow.

About a third of the way up, just before the path started to turn away from the beck, I took the opportunity to get some fresh water with my Sawyer Water filter.

The turned east & onto the crag-tops of Buckbarrow. From the road, Buckbarrow, although only a diminutive fell, is topped with a number of large rocky 'nobbles'. I headed to the top of each one, to make sure I got the true summit, and well as the view down Wasdale. I then headed to the final, true summit, which was just back from the crags (but didn't have as good views). #145 - Buckbarrow - 1,410 ft.

I could see my next peak ahead. The towering grassy hulk of Seatallan. There were no difficulties in this ascent. From Buckbarrow, the path headed due north towards a large, triangular cairn at Glade How before headed across a slightly boggy depression before climbing up good grassy slopes towards Cat Bields. This was already higher than Buckbarrow, and gave stunning views out west. The Calder Hall nuclear power plant (also known as Sellafield) being the obvious landmark. But just beyond, out at sea below some localised cloud was what seemed like a mountain peak - then it dawned on me - it was the Isle of Man, some 50 mile away!

Looking east, I saw the path ahead. It was an easy climb, following the wide, obvious path to the top of the fell. I was surprised that the top was a wide, grassy plateau, with only a few rocks. An ideal wild camping spot for future note - and I even found a rock which was perfect for use as a seat-cum-table.

The summit itself, which was surrounded by grazing Herdwicks, was a huge mass of stones. Part cairn, part wind shelter - according to locals this is a tumulus - or ancient burial mound dating back millennia. Next to this was a more modern addition of an Ordnance Survey trig point. (#146 - Seatallan - 2,266 ft)

Circling above was a "murder" of Crows - or it may have been a "conspiracy" of Ravens - which is an equally unsettling name for a group of black feathered scavengers - cawing as they caught the thermals rising from the steep north-eastern slopes.

I headed to the centre of the plateau, and found my 'seat' where I stopped for a snack & drink, whilst looking west towards the Scafell's.

After my break, I headed north west to the edge of the plateau & picked up the path down off the fell to its col with Haycock, its northerly neighbour. This was steep, but not difficult & I had some sheep watching what I was doing.

On reaching the col, I turned tail, and headed south-east towards my third and final fell of the round - Middle Fell. However, I had to cross a pathless slope, and pass over a large boggy hause. I stuck to the grass & heather covered slope as much as I could - my thinking being the slope would be less boggy than the flatter ground (where the water would run to). Eventually however, the path reappeared, and ahead I could see a crossroads in the boggy area with Middle Fell's northern slope ahead. I had to descend to the hause before the climb could begin. To keep my feet as dry as I could I squelched along the path through the bog as quickly as I could, soon reaching dry ground on the other side.

Finally I started my last ascent of the walk. The rocky terraces were a welcome change from the grassy slopes & boggy depressions previously encountered, until the summit plateau was reached, and the rocky outcrop of the summit, topped with it's cairn was just ahead of me. (#147 - Middle Fell - 1,908 ft).

It was surprisingly busy at the cairn. I managed to grab a shot of it without any people in, looking towards the Scafells. From the summit I spotted an outcrop not too far away on which to take a break, and soak in the views all the way along Wasdale, from the Scafell's dominating above the head of the lake, along the Screes & the accompanying peaks of Illgill Head & Whin Rigg.

After a few minutes in enjoying the sunshine, I made a move, and joined back up with the path, passing quite a few other walkers as I was on my way down. It seemed quite a popular fell this one - probably due to its relative easy & short distance from the road. On my way down, I could see the hamlet of Greendale in front of me, and my car right where I left it. It was a good idea for my past self to have parked right where my walk ended.

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It was mid-afternoon, and I was starting to feel a bit peckish. I got in my car & headed just out of Wasdale to the small village of Santon Bridge & its pub - The Bridge Inn - home of the Worlds Biggest Liar competition.

The competition dates back to the 19th century, and continues to this day, held in memory of the 'original liar', Will Ritson, who was a former publican at the Wasdale Head Inn, a few miles up the valley (and also had Ritson's Force waterfall named after him). One of Ritson's most famed 'tales' claimed that the turnips in the valley grew so large that his neighbouring farmers carved them hollow to use as cow sheds!

The rules of the competition are pretty simple: you have five minutes to tell the biggest, but most convincing lie. Unfortunately politicians & lawyers are not allowed to enter, as they are deemed too well practised at telling fibs!

At the bar, I ordered a Coke & some food from the lunch menu - a Steak & Cheese Ciabatta, with some chunky chips. It was quite a meal that was brought out to me, and after devouring it I felt that would set me up for the rest of the night.

I jumped back in my car, headed back up the road to Eskdale and took the turning which would lead me into the hidden valley of Miterdale. This valley is tucked away between Wasdale & Eskdale. The mouth of the valley is primarily Forestry Commission land, so it's lower slopes are covered with pine forests. The road goes for about half a mile up the valley before reaching a gate marking the Forestry Commission's territory, and not far after that a parking area is reached at Porterthwaite. The road then crosses a river & becomes forest tracks, to end at the one farm in the valley - Low Place.

After parking next to the one other car in the parking area, I swapped to my camping backpack and made off into the woods.

Initially following the forest road, a footpath soon turned right on a steeper but shorter route up the hillside. I continued on the path, which crossed the zig-zagging forest road twice more. After crossing the road for the final time, the forest became much denser into thick pine forests, the peaty ground covered with ochre-coloured pine needles. I could hear a strange squeaking cry ahead, and wondered what strange creature could possibly jump out at me as I continued on.

All of a sudden, two mountain bikers came hurtling down the track, they were tentatively tapping their brakes as they weaved their way over the terrain - the brakes squeaking as they went. No monsters would be jumping out at me after-all!

Soon after I reached the tree line, and the path made its way through an area of cleared fell side, with tree stumps still in the ground. The path also became quite boggy on this section, before reaching the perimeter fence, and passing through the gate took me onto the open fell.

From here, the path followed the wall up the flanks of Irton Fell, and on reaching the other side of a small hill, my final destination appeared ahead of me - Whin Rigg. The sun was still a few hours off setting, but I wanted to reach the summit for 6:30 pm to give me plenty of time to scout out a place to pitch my tent.

The path crossed the head of Greathall Gill, a giant gash in the mountain side, before the path climbed a good grassy slope to the top - getting to the summit at 6:23pm. (#148 - Whin Rigg - 1,755 ft).

After a bit of wandering I found a suitable pitch over-looking Wasdale & cracked open the first of my beers. The was a rock not to far fro my tent where I could sit & enjoy the evening. Further along the ridge I spotted a fell-runner with his two Border Collies, stopped on the edge to take in the view, and a few minutes later the collies came sniffing around. I had a chat with the runner, before he went on his way. Then the clouds began to roll in.

It was quite odd, however. The skies above were blue & high level cloud began turning a shade of gold, then pink as it caught the suns last light. At mid-height though, to the west, was a huge cloud bank rolling inland, below which the landscape was ominously dark. At points, whispers of low cloud blew over the top of the fells. There would be no direct sunset tonight, but the view was something spectacular.

The sun eventually set, and the darkness descended. I could see the light of some cars driving up & down the road to Wasdale Head & spotted a camper van's lights parked up by the lake-side. I stayed out until the cloud bank began to roll over & hid the view. I then called it a night & retired to my tent at about 9pm.

The next morning I poked my tent out of my tent and realised I had a neighbour... a Herdwick was sat on a grassy knoll not to far away, relaxing in the morning sunshine & taking in the view. I grabbed my camera, got out of my tent & took a few photos, the sheep dutifully posing for a couple of shots before sauntering off across the hill.

I had breakfast, packed up, and picked up the path across the top of the ridge. There were a number of paths visible, all running west-to-east. I opted to take the path Wainwright recommends that was on the edge of the escarpment above the screes, which offered spectacular views over Wasdale. Not too far along, within the first half-mile, was my first stop - a small rocky knoll which was a distinct peak.

From here, I also spotted a path veering off slightly down the arete of Broken Rib, just jutting out from the sheer drop of the cliffs. I carefully made my way down the path to this viewpoint. I found a mossy rock being caught by sunlight which was perfect for the foreground, with the shaded screes plunging down to the lake far below & the fell of Yewbarrow across it's shores, reflecting in the stillness of the morning air.

Returning to the top of the ridge, I continued along the path over the depression before it began to climb again towards the top of Illgill Head.

As I reached the top, clouds began to blow overhead, and I could feel some light speaks of moisture in the air - but nothing to majorly worry about - as I passed a small group of about half a dozen Ewe's & their lambs sheltering in the cove of a peat hag.

The path flattened out, and I could see the summit of Illgill Head dead ahead. (#149 - Illgill Head - 1,983 ft) It was quite centrally located on the fell top, with the best view looking east to the Scafell & Slight-Slight ridge I had traipsed just two days before. There was another large cairn back over on the Wasdale side however, with the views looking down over Wasdale Head & its ancient patchwork of dry-stone walls.

It was from here that my descent began, heading north east on a path down the grassy, sheep-speckled slopes. The path reached a wall, with a gate. If I turned left & went through the gate & continued on, that would lead me to Wasdale Head - not where I wanted to go. Instead, a faint path crossed a dry gill, heading right round on the easterly flanks of Illgill Head. The sweeping slopes of Scafell were to my right, in shade of brown, orange and green, and the summer bracken began to die off with the approach of autumn. Infront of me appeared Burnmoor Tarn, in the remote location of Eskdale Moor. I was surprised how big a tarn this was, which has a small stone hut at the far side - the path continued to skim the flanks of Illgill Head, gradually dropping. I had a slight moment of worry when it started to rain, and quickly slung on my waterproof jacket & rucksacks raincover - but just ten minutes later it had blown over & the sun was starting to break through. It was quite breezy however. Grey clouds continued to blow over and today was notably cooler than the past few days.

Eventually I reached a fence, marking the upper boundary of a farm, passed through it's gate, and passed through two further fields filled with Herdwick & Swaledale sheep, as the path dropped down into the valley.

At the bottom was the semi-ruined (or it may have just been abandoned) building of Miterdale Head & Bakerstead Outdoor Pursuits Centre. From here the path became a rough track along the bottom of the valley until it reached Low Place Farm. I had to carefully pass-by a black stallion that was roaming a small pasture the path passed through - I seemed to recall some advice not to make eye contact & it would leave you be - not sure how true that is - but it seemed to work anyway.

On entering the farmyard, I finally picked up the tarmac road and just over half a mile later, was back at the car park.

Epilogue

Before heading home, I drove back into Eskdale & up to the Woolpack Inn situated at the foot of the Hardknott Pass. I pulled in & grabbed some lunch. They had a wood-fired pizza oven on site - so it was only fair to sample its delights. I was in two-minds on whether to tackle one more peak today - I had just one summit left in Eskdale - Green Crag. My decision was made whilst sat in the beer garden. The breeze had picked up & I had to nip to my car to grab my fleece. "Green Crag can wait till another day", I thought, as I tucked into my Ham & Mushroom pizza. "It gives me another reason to come back to Eskdale anyway".

Mark