Traipsing Troutbeck (1 of 2)

 I had booked the first week of February off as annual leave. I had done the same the year before, and travelled up to the Lakes to play out in the snow. This time I was looking to bag a few more of the 'Far Eastern' fells to the east of the Kirkstone Pass.

The Saturday before I travelled up, plenty of people were posting gorgeous photos on Facebook & Twitter of the snowy conditions & of people sledging on the top of Kirkstone Pass. In the few days following however, milder weather set in and the thaw began. But fingers crossed there would still be some snow left for me!

Tuesday 5th February

Initially I was looking to head up the valley of Longsleddale and climb two of the more remote fells there - being located just a few miles north of the historic market town of Kendal. Amazingly, I'd never visited Kendal before, having drove past it numerous on the A591 by-pass, and only seeing it from a distance. Up close, it was a lovely town, old buildings built out of slate, with the River Kent passing through. It was also quite commercial, with a Tesco, Sainsburys & Iceland supermarkets amongst the smaller independent shops. I picked up the A6 road towards Shap, which lead me out of Kendal, past a Jaguar & Porsche dealership before the road climbed.

A few miles on, I turned off at the junction for Longsleddale. I was aiming for the hamlet of Sadgill at the head of the valley, some 4½ miles on. Shortly after the junction I entered the village of Garnett Bridge, and thats where I hit a stumbling block.

I noticed a red sign on the bridge saying 'Road Ahead Closed - BT Engineer', and sure enough, a few yards further up the narrow road was BT Openreach van in the middle of the road, with the telecoms engineer up high in a cherry picker working on top of one of the telegraph poles. Instead of waiting (as I has no idea how long that would be), I decided to do a 3-point turn towards the bridge, and headed back through Kendal before shooting off back on the road to Troutbeck. I was determined to get two fells today.

Ominous grey clouds rolled overhead - but I wasn't worried, as I had packed my waterproofs. I parked up at a lay by just off the Kirkstone Pass at Church Bridge on the southern end of Troutbeck village & set off.

Crossing the road, I headed up the bridleway which turned up the hillside. It snaked up the lower slopes, & through a farmyard, before the bridleway straightened and steadily ascended the fell. This was the Garburn Road, an old pack-horse route joining Troutbeck to Kentmere in the valley on the other side of the fell.

It wasn't soon after I started on the road that a brief shower struck, so I quickly stopped & put on my waterproof jacket. I decided to keep my camera in my bag, & not risk getting it wet, so the photos from this afternoon were all taken on my mobile phone.

I reached a step-stile over a dry-stone wall, and could see another step stile higher up on the other side of the field, so headed up. The second stile brought me onto Dubbs Road, another old pack-horse route, which joined up to the Garburn Road. However, I crossed straight over, up yet another step-stile, which lead me onto the open fell side of Appletwaithe Common below the crags of Backstone Barrow.

Although no path was indicated on the Ordnance Survey map, a faint path weaved its way up the grassy slopes & between the rocky crags. I started to reach small patches of snow, mainly away from the path, but the small patches I encountered on the path were easily avoidable.

I was approaching the underside of the low cloud, and I could see it dropping slowly to shroud peak of the fell. From here I could see down the Troutbeck valley, with the low fell of Troutbeck Tongue in the distance - which I had planned to hike tomorrow.

I ascended into the grey cloud, and the visibility dropped fast & the view were gone. Sticking to the path, I soon reached the rather unremarkable summit of Sour Howes (#167 - 1,585 ft) - a small, featureless grassy mound - with no marker cairn in sight.

The high point must be more known for its views - but this wasn't the best day for these!

From the summit, my path headed north, circumnavigating around the head of the Kentmere Park Valley, an area known as Moor Head. This met up with a wall which crossed the tops before reaching a stile. Just as I approached the stile, it began to rain. I took the opportunity to quickly pull out my waterproof trousers & put them on over my walking trousers - i was now fully waterproofed up - ready for whatever the weather could throw at me!

Crossing the stile, the main path continued to follow by the side of the wall, and would eventually lead to the northern end of the Garburn Pass, but before I headed that way, I headed due east over the grassy slopes & onto my second cloudy Wainwright of the day.

There was no path to speak off, just a trudge across the grass, but out of the murk ahead appeared a raise in the earth - it was the outline of the summit of #168 - Sallows - 1,691 ft. Again, it was another unremarkable summit without a cairn, but there was a streamlined grass-topped crest of rock about 20 feet long which was the high point.

From the top of Sallows I manged to find a path heading north west which led back to the path running north to Garburn Pass, which was slowly appearing out of the cloud in the distance. Interestingly, where there had been little to no snow cover on the tops, the northern flank of Sallow's did have a thin covering of snow.

The wet snow made the grass slightly slippy so I took my time on the descent until I reached the wall, and a stile leading back onto the Garburn Pass. It was on this path I saw the only other person out this afternoon - a mountain biker heading over the Pass to Kentmere on the other side. For myself, it was a matter of following the road back round & down the hillside back to Church Bridge & Troutbeck.

I checked into my accommodation for the next few nights - The Mortal Man Inn. After unpacking, I headed down to the bar for dinner, & sat near the log fire whilst a number of locals turned up for an 'open-mic' night, playing a selection of folk songs on acoustic guitars, banjo's, accordions & harmonica's.

Wednesday 6th February

Today was forecast to be the best day of the week - no rain forecast & light cloud with patches of sun - but we'll come back to that later on.

I headed down to breakfast about ten past 8 and was the only person in the dining room! I grabbed myself some orange juice & Weetabix. A waitress appeared not long after & I ordered a Full Cumbrian Breakfast (without black pudding though!).

After a filling breakfast, I grabbed my day-pack & set out from the front door of the hotel and walked down the road towards the Kirkstone Pass. Picking up the foot-path directly opposite, this descended by the side of some fields & joined up with Ing Road which ran along the bottom of the Troutbeck Valley to Troutbeck Park Farm, once owned by Beatrix Potter, at the road's end.​​

It was a lovely peaceful walk, however the weather wasn't exactly as forecast. My first summit for today would be Troutbeck Tongue, a relatively low fell, which, when I began the walk was covered with cloud. By the time I was at the base of the Tongue however, the cloud had lifted & it's summit was just about clear.

Instead of having to head through the farm at the end of the road, I carefully crossed a stile and crossed an open field - heeding the warnings of the Bull - and headed up to another stile in a stone wall.

This lead onto a farm track which followed the Trout Beck around the south eastern flank of the tongue to a five-bar gate, and the open fell-side.

Right after passing through the gate it began to rain. This wasn't in the forecast! Luckily I had my full waterproofs with me again, so was fully geared up in a minute or so.

A narrow path turned off from the farm track, rising up boggy, muddy steps steeply to the first shoulder of the fell. A quick stop & I looked back down the length of the valley. As I continued upwards towards the summit, I met a chap on the descent who said 'this is the best place you'll get a view today!'. I was hoping he would be wrong...

It wasn't long after I reached the small summit cairn at the top, making #169 - Troutbeck Tongue - 1,191 ft.

The cloud was above the summit - but only just. Thankfully it was still lifting & I could just about make out Windermere in the distance at the opposite end of the valley. I turned my back on England's largest lake, and headed north across the top of the tongue. Ahead was grassy moorland surrounded by towering, cloud topped mountains, and it looked like that's where I would be heading, but not before exploring the back of the tongue.

Descending along the path following the gradual slope behind the summit, I was on the look out for ancient cairns that were marked on the Ordnance Survey map, which I managed to find a short trudge through the grassland just off the path.

These old cairns date back to the Bronze Age. Although not known for sure, it is presumed these cairns were funeral mounds, which over the thousands of years have been rebuilt into small shelters, and then left to the weathered, moss covered state they are in now.

I made my way back to the path to a junction where I could either head back down the farm track to Troutbeck Park Farm, or head the opposite way, up onto higher fells & into the cloud. I saw two walkers higher up the steep sided fell, just about to disappear into the cloud. I chose to head the same way.

Starting by following a drystone wall, the path was steep as it headed up the lower flanks of Froswick, near the head of the Troutbeck valley. The wall was left behind, and the path continued onwards & upwards, a grassy track still steeply climbing the fell.

The path eventually levelled somewhat, and followed a steady groove on the hillside - this was Scot Rake. It is believed this 'groove' in the landscape was constructed as part of the Roman Road which headed this way from the fort at Ambleside, over the high fells of the High Street range, and onward to the garrison at Penrith.

Soon, the views disappeared as I entered the low cloud. The patches of lying snow were becoming bigger now, still easily avoidable though, although I enjoyed leaving footprints in it every now and again. I could see the footprints left by the two walkers, and their dog, who had now disappeared way ahead of me.

To reach Froswick, I didn't have to follow the Scot Rake path all the way, instead turning uphill, cutting the corner across a medium size patch of snow, and onto a faint grassy track which joined up to the gravelled path which headed over the western ridge of the Kentmere fells.

Continuing the trend, as the path went on, the snow patches became larger, and unavoidable. I pulled out my hiking pole to aid my crossing, and which would also help test the depth of the snow... there could be hidden depressions or places where the snow had banked, meaning it was much deeper than it looked!

Up ahead, i could see a snow covered slope, and spotted a chap carefully making his way down. We crossed paths & let on to each other before I tackled the slope.

First I had to cross a slight depression, no doubt a beck ran round here, but luckily I had the chaps footprints to follow & I got to the other side to begin my ascent to the summit.

In fairer weather, I guessed this was quite a rocky slope, and the snow, banked between the rocks, was up to knee deep in places!

Thankfully, as I approached the top, the ground flattened and the snowy began patchy once again. Through the cloud I could see a rocky mound up ahead with an old rusted fence post sticking out of the top. I had made it! #170 - Froswick - 2,359 ft.

The wind had picked up once I reached the top. I tried to find a sheltered spot on the eastern side of the summit, without any luck, so I decided to follow the route north to the next stop on the ridge - Ill Bell.

Wainwright described the 2/3rd of a mile route & 400 feet of ascent to Ill Bell as having a 'fierce appearance' when approaching from Froswick - so it was probably for the best that the way ahead was shrouded in cloud.

Not long after leaving the summit of Froswick however, it began to hail-stone quite heavily. There was not much I could do & with my hood up, and my head turned away from the incoming barrage as best I could, I made my way south along the path & through the snow.

In clearer weather - Yoke (L) & Ill Bell (R) from the Nan Bield Pass - Aug 2018

Some respite was had as the path turned onto the eastern flank of Ill Bell, out of the driving wind & hail. From here, it would have been possible to see the picturesque Kentmere valley sprawled out below with its reservoir, and Harter Fell on the opposite side of the valley, maybe even a glimpse of Haweswater further east.... but not in the low cloud.

The eastern side of Ill Bell was another rocky ascent, and once again I followed the footprints in the snow where I could, and topped out onto the summit. I was expecting a face-full of hailstone, but thankfully it had subsided, but the wind was still blowing a hoolie. There were three obvious, large cairns, so I headed to all three, to make sure I 'bagged' the highest point. #171 - Ill Bell - 2,484 ft.

I managed to shelter somewhat behind the largest cairn, and grab a quick snack.

It was a slightly calmer trudge from the summit of Ill Bell over to Yoke. There were still some large snow patches though, but what surprised me most was heading across the top of the fell, a quite substantial track appeared as if out of nowhere, and then the next thing I know, a 5-bar gate appeared out of the cloud in front of me, the only way through a wire fence crossing the hilltop. All I could think was that the track was a farmer or shepherd's access onto the top of the fell on their quad bikes.

Continuing along the track, and by the side of the wire fence a small rocky knoll faintly cleared from the cloud ahead. There was a small cairn on top - marking the summit of #172 - Yoke - 2,316 ft.

A quick snap of the summit & I was on my way. Continuing south along the gravel track, it slowly headed down the slopes, but at one point the track began to curve south-east & dropped into a shallow, snow-choked gully. I decided it be best to skirt around this. There was no telling how deep the snow was, or how stable / loose the stones were underneath. I didn't want to risk an ankle sprain.

I headed away from the track on a faint path, but still heading south. Once again, out of the gloom appeared a large dry stone wall, blocking my path. Checking my map, there was a way through not to far to the east, and sure enough, I rejoined the gravel track at the corner of the wall where there was a gate.

From then on the path gradually descended the southern flanks of Yoke. The patches of snow thinned & I began to drop below the cloud, and the views began to open up again.

In the distance I could see my route leading back to the Garburn road that I had walked the day before, and beyond, a break in the clouds - blue sky & sunshine making a rare appearance between the towering clouds.

Instead of following the Garburn road down to Church Bridge as I had done the day before, I had spotted on my map a path which turned off from the road down the grassy slope to Limefitt Holiday Park - a caravan & lodge resort.

I met up with a farm road at the bottom of the path, when all of a sudden I saw some movement ahead...

Two female deer had bolted over a stone wall out for the woods to my right and were on the road up ahead. They ahd seen me - my bright red waterproof jacket wasn't the most discrete, and as I headed along the road, then headed up the fellside & out of site... their white tails disappearing into the overgrowth.

I passed through a gate & followed the permitted footpath through the holiday park. It was out of season, and very quiet, but the static caravans looked quite nice & were a descent size.

The opposite end of the caravan park let out onto the Kirkstone Pass. I was now just a few more minutes walk from the Mortal Man. Instead of walking on the narrow verge at the side of the road, I picked up a path which made its way over a field, and after catching the gaze of some curious sheep, passed through a gate on the other side. This was where I started my walk, and after crossing back over the Kirkstone Pass, the Mortal Man was a welcome sight & just a stones throw away. That was 4 more Wainwright's climbed & 10.3 miles walked. Now to put my feet up....