A Tale of Two Valleys

 I had been wondering for a while what my 150th fell would be. I wanted it to be a big one, make a weekend of it, & get another wild camp in. I found the perfect route within the pages of one of my fell-walking magazines.

4,226 feet of ascent, 10.3 miles, 2 valleys, 1 mountain - Pillar...

It was a bright & sunny late-September day as I pulled into the yard at Gatesgarth Farm, situated at the head of the Buttermere valley. The farm-yard doubled as an overflow car park, so I found a spot & parked up. I headed to the snack van at the farm-yard entrance and enquired about leaving my car parked up overnight. The £4 parking charge was for 24 hours I was told, and to just throw the coins in the honesty bucket at the gate.

Fee paid, I kitted up, and was on my way. Crossing the fields of the farm, I spotted some sort of race checkpoint set up & as I continued towards Peggy's Bridge saw a few walkers all wearing numbers - so I guess there was some sort of event taking place.

After crossing Peggy's Bridge & heading through a gate, the path split - either taking the gentle lake-shore path, or the sharp, steep start of the climb to Scarth Gap Pass. The path up the steep embankment, by the edge of a small woodland, got the heart pumping as a warm up for the miles to come. Leaving the woodland behind the path ventured onto the open fellside, to climb up & out of the valley. As I gained height on the rocky path, I kept passing walkers heading down, again wearing numbers, so must have been part of whatever event was happening. I gave a nod & cheery 'alreet' on passing.

I had flashbacks to my very first wild camp 2½ years ago, when I last walked up the Scarth Gap Pass, but that time I was on my way to Haystacks & Fleetwith Pike. I recalled it was pretty tough going, but sooner than expected I reached the cairn marking the top of the pass. From here, the weather seemed to change as I picked up the path descending into the Ennerdale valley. I left behind the sunny slopes of Buttermere as the wind picked up and cloud rolled over. Dropping into Ennerdale, the path skirted the edge of a felled area of woodland, but below was the River Liza snaking through the valley and the single track forest road up to Britain's most remote Youth Hostel. I could see the small, single floor building up ahead - Black Sail Hut.

Originally starting life as a 19th century shepherd's bothy, the building was once owned by the Lowther Estates & is now currently owned by the Forestry Commission, who own the entire Ennerdale valley and who have leased the hut to the YHA since 1933. It is the epitome of wilderness living. The hostel is only accessible on foot, or mountain bike, the nearest road being 2½ miles away! There are just three rooms for accommodation, packed with bunk beds that can accommodate 16 people. There are no electrical plug sockets, or a telephone land-line, and you'd be lucky if you had a mobile phone signal.

A door was open, which lead to the common room & kitchen. I had a look inside. The common room had a couple of large tables & upholstered benches, and there was a wood burning stove, which I imagined would make the hut very cosy on a cold winters evening.

In one corner were some shelves loaded up with books & board games - entertainment for the evening. There was a small table with a few YHA (Youth Hostel Association) leaflets, and pinned to the kitchen door was a hand-written version of today's Mountain Weather Forecast from mwis.org.uk .

I headed back outside, and found a nearby grassy knoll to stop and have lunch looking down the valley.

Although the sun was still shining, the wind was gusting now & again, and it looked as though low cloud had dropped to cover the top of Pillar, but hopefully it would lift, break or blow over.

After lunch I crossed the River Liza at the footbridge and started the ascent of the Black Sail Pass. Initially crossing boggy terrain near the confluence with Sail Beck, the path became a short rocky scamble, before becoming a steady path winding up to the col between Kirk Fell & the ridge to Pillar. I could see a couple of walkers heading up Kirk Fell, from this point it was a steep path heading up a rocky scree-laden slope, and in these winds I wouldn't face it myself.

The path hung to the south of the ridge, so instead of views into Ennerdale, the view south was of Mosedale & down to the Wasdale Head Inn. It was also not very sheltered from the wind, which meant there was considerable buffeting. I continued on, determined to summit Pillar, and assess the situation from there.

After crossing the ridge, passing by the subsidiary summit of Looking Stead, a small col was reached. Here was where a path turned off to the High-Level Traverse - a narrow track running below the impressive crags of Pillar, round to Pillar Rock before ascending steeply to the summit. Had the conditions been more favourable, I would have tackled this route - but with the gusting winds I decided to go along the safer ridge-top route.

This still involved a short scramble section before the next plateau was reached. The path then undulated across the top of the northern crags, some providing glimpses of the drops straight down into Ennerdale. Another larger plateau was then reached. I made the ultimatum that from here I would give myself 45 mins to summit Pillar, assess the conditions on the summit, and if not to my liking, I could head back to this large grassy plateau & set up camp. I even spotted a large boulder that would provide shelter from the wind.

Clock ticking, my final leg ascended into the low hanging cloud. The wind gusts meant that every now and again, there would be a break in the cloud, and even some blue sky appeared. On approach to the summit, however, the peak was shrouded in cloud, and the trig-pillar appeared out of the fog like an ethereal figure.

(#150 - Pillar - 2,927 ft)

But where to pitch? Although there were plenty of flat grassy areas, they were just too exposed to the wind. On the summit however, aside from the trig-pillar were two stone-built wind-shelters. The first one I inspected was just rocks, however the second was more like a sheep-fold, horse-shoe in shape and with a large patch of flat grass in the centre - plenty big enough for a two-man tent. Perfect.

Amazingly, whilst setting up, three people arrived on the summit. One chap emerged from the northern edge - no doubt having come up the path from Pillar Rock, maybe even the full High-Level traverse. A couple of hikers then appeared from the southern direction - which was the path leading from Scoat Fell. They didn't stay long before they disappeared back into the fog.

The wind seemed to be dying down slightly - but still gusting now and again, and the cloud was breaking up.

I wandered to the northern edge, and saw Pillar Rock below me - a 500 foot vertical outcrop - site of the first recorded rock climb back in 1826 by John Atkinson. It was also climbed by George Mallory in 1913 during his training for his ultimately fatal ascent of Everest in 1924. Shafts of sunlight were flooding through the breaks in the clouds adding splashes of colour to the cliffs & sky. Every now and then they would open up completely to reveal a stunning sunset to the west. The rolling cloud creating some amazing light.

I headed to the grassy western slope to see what I could of the sunset. On my way, I stopped back at my tent to pick up my down-jacket, as the temperature was beginning to drop. The easterly Ennerdale peaks of Scoat Fell & the ridge dropping down off Steeple were in silhouette as the dramatic clouds rolled across the sky with yellows, reds & oranges as they caught the light from the setting sun.

I then headed back to my tent & fired up my Jetboil stove to cook my dinner, as usual washed down with a few beers & settling down for the night. The wind shelter did a great job at diverting most of the wind from the tent, although there were a few occasions during the night where a particularly strong gust woke me up as it shook the tent.

I unzipped the tent door the next morning, and was greeted with a grey view. My tent was slightly damp with condensation, but wetter on the outside from overnight rain & moisture from the low cloud. But the good news was that my tent had survived the night without any issue.

After deciding I didn't want to stay much longer than was necessary, I had a couple of breakfast protein bars and swigged my Tropicana Orange & Mango juice, packed my tent away, and headed down off the mountain. On the foggy mountain top, I picked up a path, and followed it. About 5 - 10 minutes later however, it dawned on me that I didn't recognise this path from the ascent. I checked my map, and spotted I had headed due south, and was following the path to Scoat Fell. I quickly back-tracked, and skirted round the grassy south easterly top of the fell, before eventually picking up the easterly path back towards Black Sail. Its lucky I spotted it when I did, or else it would have been a very long detour!

The wind had slackened, but that also meant the cloud was lingering. After descending, I exited the cloud base and the view appeared once again. I could see the subsidiary summit of Looking Stead ahead of me. I had rushed past its summit on my climb up yesterday, but I now decided to pay a visit. A Ewe and her Lamb were grazing on the top, and seemed nonplussed by my appearance, briefly looking up to stare at me before sticking their heads back into the grass to continue their breakfast.

With Haystacks on the opposite side of the valley, below I could see the River Liza winding up the valley & the small building of Black Sail Hut. Also in sight was the diagonal path leading up the flanks towards Scarth Gap Pass.

I made my way down to the Black Sail col with Kirk Fell, and followed the path by the side of Sail Beck & back down into the Ennerdale valley.

At the bottom I crossed the wooden footbridge over the river, and spotted a great composition for a photograph - from the pebbles of the river flowing down off the mountains, the river leading the viewers eye up towards the towering mountains, with Great Gable looming rather moodily up ahead.

After grabbing the shot, I continued on to Black Sail Hut. It began spitting of rain, so thought this would be an ideal place for a quick break.

The common room was open again, with no-one around. I grabbed a Belvita bar & can of Diet Coke from my rucksack & sat down on one of the benches.

After a few minutes, a woman came into the room from the kitchen carrying a clipboard. Turns out she and her partner work for the Youth Hostel Association and are the custodians of the hut during the open season. I asked her a few questions about working in the most remote Youth Hostel in England. She said they are the only people who are allowed to drive this far up the valley in their Land Rover. Originally from Blackpool they said this was worlds apart from the neon signs & slot machines of the Golden Mile - and a welcome respite from the hustle & bustle of the modern world.

Her partner soon appeared, and we continued talking. They mentioned they were in the middle of stock-taking in preparation for when they come to leave the Youth Hostel in November. Over the winter months (November to March), the hostel isn't staffed, but can still be stayed in. I was amazed to find out that the hostel is actually fully booked up for the next 2 years!

After finishing my can of Coke, I put my pack back on & bid farewell, leaving the couple to continue a game of Scrabble they were playing in between the stock-taking.

I ascended back up towards Scarth Gap. Just typical that the sun decided to make an appearance, and looking across the valley, the cloud had since lifted off the top of Pillar. I also found a great little spot which would make an ideal camping pitch, for future use, which was on top of a knoll, looking down the Ennerdale valley.

Back at Scarth Gap, the weather decided to change, and it began spitting of rain yet again. I passed a few walkers who were turning off to make their way up to Haystacks - and I could see a line of walkers snaking their way up the rocky terraces of the fell all stop to pull out their brightly coloured waterproof jackets.

But at least I was on the home stretch. Wearing my bright red waterproof jacket myself, I soon descended back down the pass to meet up with Buttermere's lake-shore. The rain became just light showers, and, on crossing Penny's Bridge, in a brief break from the rain, I managed to take one final shot looking up towards Warnscale Head, before heading back to Gatesgarth farmyard & my car.

Mark