Hiking Hartsop (2 of 2)

 Thursday 7th February

After another filling Full English Breakfast to set me up for the day ahead, I jumped in my car and headed a few miles north following the Kirkstone Pass to the small village of Hartsop. It was actually a bit brighter today, the cloud had lifted & the summits were mainly cloud free.

On the northern end of the Kirkstone Pass, I headed to the free car park at the end of Hartsop village, booted up and headed on my way.

Following the farm track across the bridge crossing Pasture Beck, my path soon turned off and climbed steeply up through a field to a step stile I could see in the top right corner. On the other side of the stile, the ground became much rougher, and no less steep. The now rocky path continued upwards along side a drystone wall until reaching a ledge on the nose of the ridge up to Hartsop Dodd.

On reaching the ledge, the cold wind blowing from the west hit me head on. It was time to dig out my down jacket.The path then continued straight up the edge of the ridge, weaving its way up through & over the rocky crevasses.

As the climb continued, I felt a few specks of light rain fall. Time for putting my waterproof jacket on as well! Up towards the summit, I saw what I thought was the summit cairn, and the angle of ascent relaxed slightly. There were small patches of snow, mainly within the sheltered troughs of the path, but they were easy enough to avoid by walking on the grass next to the path.

I was nearly at the summit cairn I had seen from slightly further down, but on getting closer, it revealed itself to be the end of a dry-stone wall running across the top of the fell. From the end of the wall however, it was a short walk to the true summit cairn. (#174 - Hartsop Dodd - 2,028 ft)

Due south was the huge bulk of Caudale Moor - my next destination. At this time, the cloud had lowered and was brushing the top of the expansive summit plateau of the moor. To the east, the higher ridge of High Street was completely shrouded in grey, ominous cloud - but luckily the westerly wind meant that was heading away from me.

I continued on, following the clear path which ran alongside the fell-top dry-stone wall. There was a slight descent before a long, steady ascent towards the Moor's plateau. As I climbed, I encountered larger patches of snow. I spotted tracks from what I assumed was a fell-runner and their dog in the snow, which would become an invaluable resource later in the day...

Before reaching the summit, I peeled off & walked across the plateau to the western top. The grassy plateau was covered with patchy snow, a couple of inches deep in places, but the longer blades of grass were still sticking out from the snow. After diverting around to avoid a tarn, I spotted a cairn ahead of me. Getting closer, it revealed itself to be the Mark Atkinson Monument, topped with its wooden cross.

To the south, the sun had made an appearance, casting fantastic light over the fell top, illuminating the monument. Behind, to the north west, the snowy fells & ridges emanating from the Fairfield range were still in shadow, creating a lovely contrast in the scene.

The monument had been erected by Mark Atkinson's son, William. Mark was a well respected farmer who lived down the hill in Brotherswater, who died in June 1930. He was also the licensee of the Kirkstone Pass Inn, which can been seen to the south. The stone memorial plate to Mark is now very weathered, and difficult to read, although it has since been joined by a more recent addition - a stone plaque to commemorate his son, William Atkinson, who died in April 1987, aged 83.

The sun continued to shine, and looking west across the Kirkstone valley to the summit of Red Screes, which I had camped on back in June 2018, looked simply magnificent, with piercing blue skies overhead & dramatic white clouds. The views were much better today. Windermere made an appearance to the south, and the entirety of the Helvellyn ridge was visable, although dark clouds looked to be making their way over.

Caudale Moor is another fell that has a few different names. Wainwright called it Caudale Moor, the western top is known as John Bell's Banner, and the 'true summit' is known as Stony Cove Pike. It was the latter summit that would be my next stop.

From the monument, heading slightly south east I reached a dry stone wall, with wind-blown banks of snow on either side. A wide, well-trodden path, leading up from the Kirkstone Pass Inn, followed alongside this wall for a third of a mile. During this part of the walk, the dark clouds had blown overhead and light snow flurries began to fall. I then reached the summit cairn of Stony Cove Pike (#174 - Caudale Moor - 2502 ft).

(L-R - Stony Cove Pike Summit Cairn, Froswick, Ill Bell & Yoke)

From the summit I had a fantastic clear view across to the Froswick / Ill Bell / Yoke ridge that I had walked the day before - in cloud. Looking due west, across the depression of Threshthwaite Mouth, was the towering 14 foot summit beacon on top of Thornthwaite Crag. I would be heading west, descending down to the col of Threshthwaite Mouth, before picking up the path into the valley of Threshthwaite Cove.

I picked up the path down the slope. It was quite a steep descent, and due to the sheltered nature of the 'mouth', the wind had banked the snow against the rocks. Thankfully, I once again spotted the tracks of the fell runner & his dog from earlier in the day, which helped considerably on finding my way down. I took it at a steady pace, making sure I had sure footing, and in places the path meant I had to scramble down some rocks, but I took it all in my stride.

I reached the flat ground at the bottom of the 'mouth', and picked up a path north into Threshthwaite Cove. As it weaved its way down, the path became stone-pitched steps. Normally, in dry conditions I would be thankful for these making my descent easier, however, the wet, on the verge of icy, conditions meant this was the most treacherous part of the descent - I would have preferred another scramble down snowy rocks!

Soon, I had dropped below the line of patchy snow, and the steps were more manageable. The light snow flurries, which had been intermittent throughout my descent were now at a level where it just fell as drizzle.

As I reached the lower part of the valley, following Pasture Beck, the path turned from stone pitched steps to a rocky path. As I headed towards the end of the valley, it became wider & on reaching the edge of the field system, became a wide farm track.

Just after a gate, I stopped to glance back up the valley where I had come from, before continuing my hike along the farm track leading back towards Hartsop & the car park.

After retiring back to the Mortal Man, I headed into the bar for some food, and went for the fish & chips (although it should really have been labelled 'whale & chips' - it was that big!) & I ended my last night at the inn washing my dinner down with a few pints of their own, unique 'Sally Birkett' Ale.

Friday 8th February

Storm Erik had reached Cumbria overnight. The small beck I could see from my hotel room had since turned into a raging torrent when I peered out of the curtains that morning. I headed downstairs for one last breakfast at the Mortal Man Inn. The storm brought strong winds which were howling around the outside of the building, and heavy rain battered against the dining room windows. Instead of the Full English Breakfast I had on previous mornings, this time I opted for the lemon pancakes, which were actually quiet nice & a refreshing change, especially with a dribble of maple syrup. The wind & rain continued to blast against the building, with no sign of any let-up - in fact it was forecast to be 24 hours before it would blow over. So after breakfast I packed up, checked out & made my way home.

Mark