The Howgills - Cautley Spout & The Calf

 Tucked away between the Lake District & the Yorkshire Dales, close to the market town of Sedburgh is a range of steep sided grassy hills called the Howgill Fells. Curiously, this area is officially in Cumbria, but is also part of the Yorkshire Dales, and the town has a Lancashire post code!

This is a relatively quiet area (compared to the nearby National Parks), and is home to the highest outdoor cascade waterfall in England(there is a higher one underground!) - Cautley Spout.

I had plotted a route that would take up up by the side of the Spout, and follow the upper valley to the highest point of the Howgills - known as The Calf.

It had been wet, grey and drizzly for most of the morning in Manchester, however the forecast promised conditions would improve late afternoon in the Howgills to the north.

I packed up and drove north under grey cloud. As I approached Lancaster services, I saw an almost straight line in the sky, and beyond were blue skies! Things were looking up.

By the time I came off the motorway heading towards Sedburgh, I was in bright sunshine & had put on my sunglasses!

From Sedburgh, I followed the road north-east until I reached the Cross Key's pub and the lay-by's at the side of the road. It was around 5pm, and the lay-bys were still pretty full, but there was a space I was able to get into.

A signpost, almost fully hidden by foliage, pointed its way down a short wooded path towards a narrow footbridge over the River Rawthey, which was in full flow from the mornings rain.

The path headed left by the side of the river for a short distance, before turning north into the valley to follow Cautley Holme Beck. On turning the corner, I caught my first sighting of Cautley Spout. I came to realise what I could see from this approach was only the lower half of the falls, but even from three-quarters of a mile away, they were still impressive.

It was a pleasant grassy path which made its way along the valley floor. About half way their was a information board mounted to a rock which advised the valley was once home to a Iron Age farming settlement. It was interesting to note that the area hasn't changed much in the 2000 years since, as local farmers still graze their sheep in this area.

As the path continued up the valley, the path began to steepen and headed right up the fellside, to a point where the grassy path soon became a series of stone pitched steps winding their way up the hill.

At certain points there were grassy shoulders and ledges where I could head off the path for a closer look. It was from the top of the lower falls that the top half of the cascades were visible as they turned the corner.

It was a steep climb up the stone pitched path, but it gave me plenty of opportunities to stop and take in the views (and maybe catch my breath too!).

At the top, the path flattened followed a narrow ledge, and from this vantage point, there was a stunning panoramic view back down the valley.

The ledge path crossed a small stream also feeding into the main falls, and began another short climb to reach the top of the higher falls.

From here, the path traced its way up a narrow valley by the side of the stream feeding the main falls - Red Gill Beck. The small beck itself had its own small cascades and the steep walls of the valley meant the path ran right along side them, making it a lovely walk.

A quarter of a mile along valley, on the opposite side of the beck was a stone sheep fold, with a large pyramidal cairn on one corner. I was hoping to get a photo, but as I got closer, I spotted a chap setting up a tent in the sheepfold, so instead I gave a cheery 'hello' and continued on my way.

A short distance on from the sheepfold the beck forked in two, with a large hillside in the middle. The high valley walls meant there was no mobile signal here, so instead I dug out my paper map to check the route, before taking the right fork following Force Gill Beck.

As the path slowly gained height beside the following stream, the ground became more saturated and damp underfoot, and the stream itself became narrower the further up I went, getting closer to the source.

The beck went from a rocky stream, to a muddy stream, then a narrow trickle of water in a grassy channel, to drips down muddy peat hags, before just disappearing amongst boggy ground. I remember learning about rivers in geography class at school, but it was still interesting to see how the most amazing waterfalls start from just a few drips of muddy water.

Past the source of the beck, and now on dry ground, the track climbed to the col between two hills.

On reaching the col, I was quite surprised to meet up with a wide, well made stone track heading north-south across the fells. To the south west, the view stretched across to southern lakeland, and Morecambe Bay. Turning right, it was then just a short walk onto the top of The Calf, its summit marked by a white concrete Trig Point.

It was still relatively early - just gone half seven - so I had a wander around the summit plateau to find a spot to pitch. My OS Map showed their was a tarn on the summit, but on closer inspection, it was a large patch of muddy ground. I wandered around through grassy tussocks looking for a sweet spot of flat ground and good views.

The views north were over the grassy valleys of the Howgills, & the Eden valley beyond, but to the north west, the Lake District fells were in full view, and I could make out the Scafells, Great End & Great Gable under a band of cloud.

Eventually, I headed back to the trig point, and found a flat spot not too far away. I pitched the tent just after 8pm, and started cooking my dinner as the sun slowly dropped behind gathering clouds, crepuscular rays dappling the land.

I spent the rest of the evening outside my tent taking in the views and watching the clouds blow over, as the setting sun set them alight.

I set my alarm for early the next morning. Over the past week or so, it had been reported that a newly discovered comet - named Neowise - was passing close to Earth, and visible to the naked eye in the lower northern skies.

Reports suggested the best time to see the coment was either 80 minutes after sunset, or 80 minutes before sunrise. At this time of year, sunrise is very early - just after 5am. My alarm went off at 3:45am.

I looked outside the tent, and was surprised how light it was at this time as sunrise approached. The skies to the north east were clear, but the north western sky - right where Neowise should have been - was a bank of cloud blocking the views. The planet Venus was shining incredibly bright in the sky though, and a very thin slither of a crescent moon was just visible.

After catching another hour or two of 'zzz's I had breakfast, packed my tent and took more or less the same route back.

I was impressed with my first venture into the Howgills. They are noticeably different to the crags of Lakeland, or the limestone landscape of the Yorkshire Dales, and its grassy domed hills means there must be more wild camping pitches to be discovered in the future.