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Climbing 542 Lakeland Summits in 2016 for Cancer Research UK

I’ve now climbed over 400 Lakeland summits since January to raise money and awareness for Cancer Research UK – read about them in this blog and if you can, please pledge support or donate – just follow the link you choose.

Over the last 6 months over 450 people have pledged or donated almost£28,000. You can still pledge support here, or donate on my Just Giving page and make a very valued contribution. Thank you! – together we will beat cancer sooner.

Day 60 – I break the 400 barrier!

035 Bessy Boot.26
Bessyboot and Tarn at Leaves

Rosthwaite Fell – rugged, crinkly, rambling – and a navigator’s nightmare in bad visibility. Luckily today was dry and clear, so finding my way to the five summits (Bessyboot, Rosthwaite Cam, Stonethwaite Fell aka Dovenest Crag, Combe Head and Thornythwaite Fell) wasn’t too difficult.

010 Stonethwaite.13
Stonethwaite

I had also decided to revisit the top of Glaramara: this would be the highest point of the day. A month ago I visited the ‘official’ summit – according to the database of British Hills – only to find later that Wainwright, Birkett and Mark Richards all prefer the top of equal height but 200 metres to the north, so to avoid any doubt I put it on today’s itinerary.

020 Stanger Gill.20
At the foot of Stanger Gill

It was a nice change to be able to walk out of the Royal Oak and just set off walking, without the need for any other transport. I walked along the road to Stonethwaite and followed the track to the campsite, where a gate (but no signpost) leads to the foot of Stanger Gill and the start of a very steep path which rises about 1,000′ (330 m) in one unrelenting ascent, at the same time covering less than half a mile – in other words, an average gradient of about 1-in-2½.  That’s steep.

015 Rowan.58
Plenty of Rowan berries. Please don’t tell me we’re going to have a hard winter. What this photo tells you is that conditions for growing berries have been very good. Nothing else :-)

It’s interesting to see the change of season, already noticeable with the Rowan trees laden with berries, and now blackberries are beginning to ripen (this will slow me down as I can’t resist picking them!)

045 Bessyboot summit.05
At the summit of Bessyboot

Once on the upper fell it wasn’t easy to know whether to head straight for the summit or follow the reasonably clear path: I opted for the path, which although not as direct, followed drier ground, until a little scramble up the rocky west side was needed to reach the top of Rosthwaite Fell, aka Bessyboot (1,807′, 550 m).

050 Bessyboot to Honister.34
Looking towards Honister and Dale Head

There seem to be fewer contours on the map than on the ground – quite a long descent led to the quaintly-named Tarn at Leaves, and the top of Rosthwaite Cam (2,008′, 612 m) seemed to tower above me. Frustratingly, the path headed well wide of the summit, so I had to judge when to leave it to reach my objective. Others had done the same, but the signs were faint and pathfinding (literally) wasn’t so easy.

060 Rosthwaite Cam.39
Rosthwaite Cam

Rosthwaite Cam is well-named.  ‘Cam’ means a capping stone in a field wall, and the summit consists of a massive block of rock about 5 metres high. By going around the back it’s possible to reach the top without any difficulty and it’s a perfectly safe place to stand and enjoy the view.

072 Stonethwaite Fell summit to Combe Head.44
Looking at Combe Head from no 400 – Stonethwaite Fell

Back to the main path, which runs close to the edge of a spectacular drop into Langstrath, to repeat the exercise for Stonethwaite Fell (the alternative name of Dovenest Crag sounds better) at 2,073′ (632 m).  A detour to the summit – number 400! – and then return to the comparative safety of the path before finally heading to the imposing summit of Combe Head (2,405′, 733 m).

080 Down to Langstrath.32
Staring down into the Langstrath abyss

In fact Combe Head seems to dominate the valley of Combe Gill so much that I’m surprised it doesn’t feature more prominently in the books of Wainwright and Richards in its own right. Perhaps its appearance as a footman of Glaramara contributes to this second-class status, but it still seems odd, as from most of the fell it hides Glaramara and is easily the dominating feature.

090 Stratified pyramid.58
Fascinating pyramid of stratified rock near Combe Head summit

Getting to it requires some effort too, sidling through the corridor of Combe Door and finding a path between the big outcrops of rock. The reward for this effort comes by way of a superb view down the valley of Combe Gill towards Derwentwater, with Skiddaw behind, although by now it was a bit hazy.

110 Borrowdale from Combe Head.06
Looking down Combe Gill from Combe Head

I dropped down and found a good path snaking its way up to Glaramara. Before it reached the top, however, progress appeared to be arrested by a cliff face, but there was actually a way up which involved a bit of simple scrambing. I reached the cairn (which was the NE summit I intended to visit), then made exactly the same mistake as a month ago and headed for the SW top! As soon as I got there I realised what I’d done, so retraced my footsteps, with the result that in four weeks I’ve visited both tops of Glaramara twice. There’s nothing like making absolutely sure.

130 Glaramara NE Top.07
The ‘other’ summit of Glaramara

At the foot of the cliff on the way down I met another walker, the first human being today. Colin was from Burnley, camping near Grange, and had been given a few hours off family duties. He’d just found my card on Combe Head so promised to send the photo when he got home.

152 Thorneythwaite Fell.34
Looking down the ridge of Thornythwaite Fell

I carried on down the ridge, taking in the top of Thornythwaite Fell (1,883′, 574 m) on the way, before following the line of Combe Beck and joining the road to Rosthwaite. Just before I arrived back at the Royal Oak I was stopped by a party of six walkers who asked, in heavy German accents, how far it was to Seatoller. My answer of twenty minutes seemed to be very good news, especially to the large, tired lady who said “Ken I geev you a keess?”  “Certainly!” I replied, at which she immediately had second thoughts and carried on walking!

Route

Another 5 new summits today, plus definite confirmation that Glaramara is in the bag too.  8.72 miles (14.03 km); 2,647′ (806 m) of ascent. 402 summits in total, leaving 140 to go; 540 miles (870 km) and over 165,000′ (50,000 m) of climbing.

Tomorrow’s (Friday’s) walk looks like it might be scuppered by rain; then after the weekend it’s two days babysitting in York, hopefully followed by two more days walking and then a family wedding in London the following weekend. Phew!

Day 59 – Some Good Weather At Last!

 

010 Seathwaite start.59
Grains Gill and Seathwaite Fell from Seathwaite

After a long day on Birker Fell over a week ago, the weather turned even wetter until the weekend – but I had a longstanding arrangement to go to Cardiff with a group of friends. We had a great time, but as the sun shone the whole time, I couldn’t help thinking that I was losing valuable Birkett-time!  Having arrived home on Tuesday evening it was a case of getting everything packed ready for a 6 am start on Wednesday!

030 Base Brown.25
Base Brown from near Seathwaite

 

Thankfully, the weather looked like holding for a big day which was to include Great Gable and Kirk Fell, the two massive summits which dominate ‘England’s finest view’ above Wastwater – although my plan was to climb them from the other side, starting at Seathwaite in Borrowdale.  I parked in the same place I had done for the Great End / Glaramara round a few weeks earlier, but this time crossed Grains Gill and Sourmilk Gill on my way to the first summit, Grey Knotts (2,287′, 697 m).

020 Gravestone.05
John Bankes’s memorial stone – 1752

It wasn’t easy to find the path at first, smothered as it was in thick bracken, but before long the way up became clear, and I was reassured to see John Bankes’s memorial stone confirming that I was on track. The path continued steeply upwards, past dangerous mine openings (leading me to marvel at the stamina of the early mineworkers, who had such an arduous ‘commute’ at each end of the day).

090 Buttermere High Stile.18
The High Stile ridge and Buttermere from near the summit of Grey Knotts

 

When the slope eased (just after a Peregrine put in an appearance below me) the route became a trudge over boggy ground, with fine views to the Buttermere fells, before steepening again for the final ascent to the rocky top of Grey Knotts.

110 Brandreth summit.19
Brandreth summit, with Great Gable behind

Wainwright states that “Only those of unusual talent could go astray on the simple walk to Brandreth” (2,344′, 715 m) and I’m pleased to report that this time I had no problem. Unlike seven years ago when climbing all the Wainwrights – on that occasion I thought the more distant Green Gable was Brandreth; steamed past the summit and continued, arriving at Green Gable’s summit before realising my mistake and then returning all the way to make sure I’d actually visited the exact summit!

130 To Ennerdale.23
Ennerdale from Moses Trod

This time I noticed that the summit ‘proper’ – an untidy jumble of stones and fenceposts – appears no higher than another cairn 50 meters away, so as is my custom I made sure to visit both, just to be on the safe side.

136 Wastwater from Beck Head.43
Wastwater from Beck Head

My next objective was Kirk Fell, so I left the ridge path heading towards Green Gable and dropped down to an old path with the charming name of Moses Trod. This route was once used to carry slate from Honister to Ravenglass for export, and it’s said that the return journey often involved a bit of smuggling. One of the quarry workers by the name of Moses Rigg used to export illicit whisky, distilled at The Dubs, hence the name.

140 Kirk Fell.46
The clear path up Kirk Fell

A few more walkers were around now: after a short climb I arrived at Beck Head, between Great Gable and Kirk Fell, where a view of Wastwater and the screes opened up. Both directions looked like big climbs, so I got my head down and set off up the steep stony path to Kirk Fell.

170 Kirk Fell summit.25
Kirk Fell main summit

At the North Top (or East Top, depending on which book you read – either way it’s at 2,582′, 787 m) I met another walker who turned out to be a farmer from near Bellingham in Northumberland having a day off from work. I have to say I haven’t met many farmers who spend their days off by fell-walking, but we had a good natter. His farm is on the Pennine Way so I must have walked right past it in 2008.

200 Gable from Kirk Fell.33
Great Gable looks massive from Kirk Fell

On now to the main summit of Kirk Fell (2,630′, 802 m) where I met a couple and noticed a slight Australian accent:  it turned out they were English but had lived near Perth for the last 40 years. They’d been to Scotland and stayed a night in Perth (Scotland) – just to say they’d been, I think.

210 Rocky ascent to Gable.51
On the ascent to Great Gable – there is a bit of a path here, really!

After returning to Beck Head I resigned myself to another long, steep, stony climb. From the bottom you can’t see how the path negotiates what looks like an impossibly steep section higher up, but when you get there you don’t even feel aware that it’s so steep, but just continue your upward progress among thousands of boulders.

221 Great Gable memorial.08
The War Memorial close to the summit of Great Gable

The summit (2,949′, 899 m and the sixth-highest Wainwright) was busy (it often is) and hosted a local family from Muncaster – mum, dad and four children – who were celebrating mum’s birthday and even gave me some cake before I took their selfie (if that’s possible) together with my  summit card.  I do hope they send it back.

230 To Green Gable.51
Looking to Green Gable (Base Brown beyond)

A quiet, reflective few moments followed at the Fell & Rock Club War Memorial before the steep descent to the aptly named Windy Gap, which was indeed the windiest place all day – but still worth stopping here to savour the views.  By now there was a stream of walkers heading for Great Gable’s summit, but very few were visiting the nearby Green Gable (2,628′, 801 m). The turf near the top really is a rich green colour, although I’m not sure if this is the reason for its name.

240 Windy Gap to Ennerdale.44
The view from Windy Gap
250 Green Gable summit.29
Great Gable looks almost initimidating from the summit of Green Gable

From here it was a gentle saunter for a mile or so to the day’s final summit, Base Brown, at 2,120′ (646 m), followed by an almost excruciatingly steep descent down the nose of the fell towards Sourmilk Gill.

265 Base Brown.57
Heading to Base Brown from Green Gable

As the gradient slackened, the path became pitched, not with flat stones but with big, rounded cobbles. There was no way to negotiate this without landing, time after time, on the balls of my feet, to the point where they were aching like mad. The end at Seathwaite couldn’t come soon enough!

300 back up path.05
No path here! Looking back up a little scramble on the way down

Almost up to 400 now – the 7 summits today taking me to 397, and good to get two BIG hills out of the way. 8.25 miles (13.27 km) and 4,310′ (1,313 m) of ascent.

Route

Tonight I was once again booked in to the Royal Oak at Rosthwaite, who are giving me much appreciated support and a warm welcome. Tomorrow – the twists and turns of Rosthwaite Fell, and hopefully more good weather!

Thanks again to everyone who reads this blog, to all the supporters of this challenge and everyone else offering encouragement. It’s a combination of your support, and the fact that it’s all in aid of Cancer Research, wot keeps me going when the weather isn’t as good as it was today!

Day 58 – A Birkett’s Birker Fell Dozen!

 

010 Start signpost.52
The track off Birker Moor leading to Devoke Water. Seat How is just to its right

Tuesday 9 August. There are 13 Birketts in the fells of the Ulpha, Birkby, Stainton and Whitfell areas, plus an outlier that I needed to pick up on the north of Corney Fell. I had them planned as either two ‘easy’ excursions or one long hard day, and thought the the more difficult one would be a good challenge. With only Tuesday available until later in the week, I got up early and arrived at the Stanley Ghyll junction on Birker Fell just before 8.00.  I’d set off in lovely weather, but now there were looming skies and heavy showers.

020 Rough Crag.49
Rough Crag
040 Showers in the mountains.47
Sunshine and showers in the hills

I followed the anglers’ track towards Devoke Water before following a faint path to the summit of Rough Crag, before heading across to the next top – which just makes it into the list of Birketts by 12″ – Water Crag. Every time I looked towards the coast it seemed like a shower was imminent, but somehow it stayed dry.

050 Water Crag summit Devoke Seat How.44
Looking towards Seat How and Devoke Water from the summit of Water Crag

It was now over 1½ miles to The Knott, quite a distinctive little summit, and the going was rough: trying to traverse the shoulder of White Pike wasn’t as easy as it sounds and involved many ups and downs, often to avoid rocky outcrops. The final stretch to the summit was marginally easier, over rough grass, and led to a great view of the Esk estuary at Ravenglass.

071 Devoke Lingbeck.33
Crossing the beck flowing out of Devoke Water
095 The Knott.57
The Knott

Heading NE to the much higher White Pike I was struck by how quickly the bright greens of spring and summer have already given way to the yellows, browns and greys of early autumn. Where has this year gone? The cairn on the summit is impressive, and visible for miles around.

120 White Pike summit.39
At the top of White Pike, with Woodend Height and Yoadcastle beyond

Not far from here to Woodend Height, but the wind was getting stronger and rain was now in the air. I donned waterproofs, which were to stay on for most of the day, and the first heavy rain fell. Close to Woodend Height is the fortress-like rock bastion of Yoadcastle which, like Seat How later in the day, can just about be reached on grass if you pick a way between the steep rocks.

170 Yoadcastle.02
Yoadcastle

From Yoadcastle the route to Stainton Pike involved plenty of undulation, although there was a path for most of the day. One wire fence needs to be crossed, but it’s not barbed wire, thank goodness! The top is a little sea of boulders and it was really catching the wind. Whitfell, another little quantum leap up in height, beckoned from the south-east, so off I set again, not finding any path until well past little Holehouse Tarn.

230 Whitfell summit.18
Whitfell summit…
240 Whitfell trigpoint.25
… and its trigpoint

Whitfell has a large stone wind-shelter (very useful) and a nearby trigpoint. It always surprises me when the trigpoint is so obviously not at the top, but I guess the surveyors from Ordnance Survey were more interested in maximising what could be seen rather than providing the summit with some kind of ‘crown’.

260 Burn Moor to Buck Barrow.44
Great Paddy Crag and Buck Barrow from Burn Moor

When Val and I did Great Paddy Crag and the Buck Barrows a couple of weeks ago we couldn’t be bothered with the one-mile trek to Burn Moor, so now I had a one-kilometre trek instead – very straightforward, mainly to find out that Burn Moor is on a par with Plough Fell when it comes to excitement (or lack of it).

270 Bigert and The Pike.31
The unimpressive summit of Bigert a few metres beyond the gate; the more impressive top of The Pike beyond

Returning my steps for much of the way, I peeled off right before the summit of Whitfell and headed down to Bigertmire Pasture. From above it’s hard to see how there could be anything worthy of Birkett status down there: it’s only when you look back later from the valley of Holehouse Gill that you get any impression of its dominance above that side of the valley.

280 Bigert summit.06
Bigert – not about to win any Birkett summit beauty contest

The summit itself is almost weird – a small bump, just on the far side of a gate, is all there is, followed by the conundrum of how to descend via ground covered in huge rushes, with stile-less stone walls thwarting many reasonable-looking routes. I made the mistake of taking off my waterproof top, and was rewarded by the weather-gods by a torrential shower within five minutes.

290 The Pike summit.15

Once I was down in the valley of Hole House and Pike Side farms, I found the steep way up to the top of The Pike, an impressive looking hill seeming to punch above its weight above these remote settlements.  Looking for the exact summit I realised it was an outcrop of rock underneath the dry stone wall.

300 The Pike to Hesk Fell.24
Heading for Hesk Fell

The 1+ mile trek to the top of Hesk Fell looked deceptively straightforward and turned out to be a real slog, the rounded shape of the fell producing one false summit after another.

330 Woodend Seat How.43.43
Woodend Farm

From here on the going got really tough underfoot. A faint path soon vanished completely and the next 1½ miles were a gruelling hack over long tussocky grass, thick rushes, and the bog of Cockley Moss.  As the wall approached around the Woodend Farm surroundings I was encouraged by the presence of a path on the map. This was a complete fiction: 500 metres of pure bog followed, with the path being about as real as the tooth-fairy.

350 Seat How.14
Seat How in front of a threatening sky

With legs ready to take a break, and only the rocky fortress of Seat How to conquer, the rain once again returned with venom. I was determined to find a way to the top that didn’t involve scrambing (there is one); arrived at summit no 13, found an even less difficult way down, and now only had half a mile of track to get back to the car.

360 Seat How summit rain.18
The last, wet, summit

A couple who were just setting off for a stroll to the lake asked it that was me they’d seen at the top of Seat How, and did I get caught in the squall. Yes and yes. After almost 14 miles (half of which counted double!) and over 8 hours of walking, I was glad to see the car.

Ulpha route

On the way home I found the fact that I now have only 150 or so summits left to do was both encouraging and depressing. I’ve done 390 – so another 150 between now and the end of the year must be possible. But on the other hand, the thought of another 20 – 30 days on the fells, in weather that’s refused to be pleasant for most of the last two months, didn’t seem such a happy prospect.  I’m beginning to discover the mental, as well as the physical, side of the Challenge.

Never mind – as Winston Churchill used to say – KBO (I’ll let you Google that one, if you don’t know it already!)

List of today’s fells (for a change):
Rough Crag             1,047′ (319 m)
Water Crag              1,001′ (305 m)
The Knott                1086′ (331 m)
White Pike               1450′ (442 m)
Woodend Height     1597′ (487 m)
Yoadcastle               1621′  (494 m)
Stainton Pike           1632′ (498 m)
Whitfell                    1881′ (573 m)
Burn Moor               1780′ (543 m)
Bigert                       1086′ (331 m)
The Pike                   1214′ (370 m)
Hesk Fell                  1565′ (477 m)
Seat How                  1020′ (311 m)

Total miles walked during the challenge = 523 (842 km) and total ascent climbed = 158,500′ (48,281 m). Mt Everest is 29,029′ (8,848 m) high.

Donations made or pledged are now almost £28,000. I wonder where we’ll end up. One things for sure – the more people we can involve, the better the result will be!

Day 57 – Walkers not welcome here!

020 No access.34
Thou shalt not pass…

Saturday 6 August, and our plan was a clockwise round of fells east of Lamplugh, starting with Owsen Fell (1,342′, 409 m), taking in Blake Fell, the highest point of the Lamplugh Fells at 1,878′ (573 m) and ending on High Hows, a tiddler at 1,027′ (313 m).

010 Weed.47
Sunflower in the church yard – or a well-disguised periscope?

We parked the car opposite the church and followed the lane east, to be thwarted almost before we’d begun. An unfriendly sign and barbed wire blocked the way forward: we decided to reverse our route and start with High Hows, then work things out once we got to Owsen Fell.

030 Mountain Pansy.50
Mountain Pansy

Straight away we had to ford Wisenholme Beck, then leave the footpath and head up fields towards the obvious, if not lofty, top of High Hows. There were actually signs that we were on an ancient track, now almost completely overgrown, with a bit of excitement created by the presence of a few Mountain Pansies poking out of the grass. Someone – presumably the farmer – has placed a tree stump at the summit of High Hows – it didn’t grow there: I suspect it’s something for the sheep to scratch themselves on.

040 High Hows summit.45
Scratching post at the top of High Hows. Knock Murton in the background
060 Forest.07
Through the forest
070 Sharp Knott summit.43
Sharp Knott summit, looking at lots of wind turbines on the coast and out to sea

Reading my directions backwards, I looked in vain for a stile into the nearby forestry plantation, finally striding the wire fence (easier for me than Val!) and finding a gravel track which gradually rose through the trees before making its exit at the bottom of a steep climb up to the top of Sharp Knott (1,581′, 482 m). The summit was remarkable for its bird life – within a couple of minutes we’d seen a Mistle Thrush and some Meadow Pipits, while swooping overhead were Swallows, House Martins and a Swift.

080 Blake Fell summit.46
No room at the top of Blake Fell
090 View to Honister.07
Looking towards Buttermere, with Fleetwith Pike dead centre above the lake

A steady pull took us to the top of Blake Fell, where a friendly couple of walkers were taking a breather in the stone wind shelter. After a brief conversation, during which another walker quickly passed by, we set off towards Carling Knott (1,785′, 544 m).  The map indicates a pile of stones at the summit, and that’s what I thought it was, until the man who’d walked past us a few minutes earlier popped up from inside it like a Jack-in-a-box to say a cheerful “Good Morning!” It is in fact another well-constructed wind shelter – perfect for Val to take off her boots and give sore feet a rest.

115 Carling Knott summit.16
A couple of empty seats at the top of Carling Knott

400 m beyond Carling Knott is the Loweswater End of Carling Knott (shown on the map as ‘Carling Knott’ – I know, it’s confusing!). This top is lower, at 1,705′ (519 m), and I was hoping for a good view over Loweswater, but came away disappointed. I guess it looks impressive from the Loweswater side!

120 Loweswater End Val.12
The Loweswater End of Carling Knott

Bill Birkett’s directions suggest turning around and contouring below Carling Knott to reach the ridge leading to Burnbank Fell, but it looked like a rough hack, so we simply followed the path back to the fine wind shelter (where a party of three had just found my card) and found the ridge on much easier going.

140 Burnbank tree.54
A single solitary tiny stunted tree on Burnbank Fell. Bonsai?

150 Burnbank summit Val.24

The not-so-exciting summit of Burnbank Fell

At 1,558′ (475 m) the summit of Burnbank Fell isn’t exactly inspiring, being a simple fencepost at a corner where the fence changes direction. Someone has built a small cairn nearby but it looks a bit lonely and lost, to be honest. And for the next kilometre the fence was a fairly good guide to the final summit, Owsen Fell.

165 Blake Fell.48
Looking back to Blake Fell

We now had to descend to where we first encountered those unfriendly signs. After a steep descent, with the track in full view, we came to the wall corner where there was… a stile! You might think this signified a footpath, but 100 metres further on, where the footpath met the old track, we were met by more signs saying “No Footpath”. Now, I have some sympathy if people want to have a bit of privacy, but simply to erect a “No Entry” sign with nowhere else to go is, in my view, a tad unreasonable.

180 Owsen Fell.49
The final summit – Owsen Fell

So we walked the last 400 metres with Val feeling distinctly uncomfortable and me feeling indignant. Neither of us were able to display our different emotions to anyone, as we easily negotiated the barbed wire fence and returned to the village without meeting a soul! A final point – the tiny village of Lamplugh can show the Borough of Ribble Valley a thing or two, with a very smart purpose-built toilet by the church, available for all to use, with a little jar requesting a donation. The contrast with the nearby ‘No Access’ signs was so conspicuous, I certainly didn’t begrudge stumping up 50p!

Today’s seven fells brought the total to 377, with mileage up to almost 510 (820 km) and ascent over 155,000′ – or to put it another way, 47.3 km! I haven’t included a map of the summits climbed for a while – there’s a lot more green than last time!

Map Route

 

 

Day 56 – A Wedding Anniversary Excursion

 

140 Starling Dodd selfie.14
Bit of a change from walking down the aisle 38 years ago…

I know it’s not very romantic, but at least Val and I were spending the day together, which makes a change from much of the year so far (although my better half had already chalked up 66 summits with me). It’s a long drive to Ennerdale Water from Clitheroe – about the furthest Lake District destination from home – and so it was almost 10 am before we’d parked up at the Bowness Knott car park and got our boots on.

010 Sheep.40

After spotting a field of extremely patriotic-looking sheep we headed up slopes at first heavily brackened, then clothed in heather and bilberry, to the summit of Bowness Knott, which at 1,093′ (333 m) enjoys a great view beyond Ennerdale Water to the hills of Dumfries and Galloway.

030 To Bowness Knott.12
Bowness Knott
040 Bowness Knott summit me tpcc.22
The summit

 

 

 

 

 

060 Brown How.06
Looking back to a family picnic on Brown How

At our next summit, Brown How (1,056′, 322 m), the solid rock outcrop left no room for a calling card, so we pressed on, meeting a family of four on the way. The young children seemed to be having a good time on the fells: we left them heading for Brown How while we tackled the steep ascent up Rake Beck Gill towards Herdus (1,844′, 562 m), where the views now included the Isle of Man – so we had three ancient kingdoms in view at the same time.

080 Steep gill waterfall.55
Near the top of Rake Gill
090 Herdus Val tpcc IOM.12
Val at the summit of Herdus, with the Kingdom of Man in the background

We should have returned to the col before heading up to Great Borne (2,019′, 616 m) but instead tried to take a slightly higher route – but this involved crossing a boggy plateau and we were soon regretting our decision as we floundered from one peat hag to the next. The top of Great Borne is a small plateau strewn with boulders, making it fairly easy for someone to build a small wind-shelter near the trigpoint. (Or did they build the trigpoint next to the small shelter?)

100 Great Borne summit Grasmoor.54
Great Borne; Mellbreak and Grasmoor beyond

Concerned that we might run short of time, I suggested to Val that she head straight for Starling Dodd, whilst I followed the dog-leg in the fence to my next summit, Gale Fell (1,699′, 518 m). She was in visual contact with her target the whole time, and the path was very clear, but she was still a bit nervous and seemed glad when I rejoined the route and caught her up.

110 Gale Fell summit.43
Looking to Red Pike (L) and Starling Dodd (R) from the rather nondescript top of Gale Fell
130 Starling Dodd me.33
Standing by the abstract summit of Starling Dodd

I think some summit cairns could be described as ‘art’ – certainly some of them are better than exhibits I’ve seen in art galleries – and the one at the 2,077′ (633 m) summit of Starling Dodd is a good example. The twisted, rusting iron fence posts and rails have been woven together to create a great abstract work of the fells.  Glancing towards Pillar Rock reminded me that I need to arrange some help for this rock climb before long – scary!

155 Little Dodd to Mellbreak Dumfries.21
Little Dodd. The walking poles aren’t part of the cairn

Red Pike above Buttermere, which I visited in worse conditions in early July, dominated the scene ahead, but we only needed to call at Little Dodd (1,936′, 590 m), where a similar iron post cairn exists, this time more like the former ‘B of the Bang’ sculpture in Manchester (which was sold for scrap in 2012, whereas this one was made from scrap, a nice irony I think).

165 Descent stream.09

After contouring around the head of Gillflinter Beck we took the path down the side of the little valley before entering the forest on a good track. After half a mile a path is shown on the map, but there’s no sign of it on the ground, which is a shame as we had to follow the track a  much longer way back – over 2½ miles, to the car park. Here we met the family of four again, finding out that they were from Ivybridge in Devon where I have some family.

Route

Our lodgings tonight (pushing the boat out on our anniversary) were to be the Stork Hotel in Rowrah just a short drive away, but before that we needed to record the video which you can find at the top of the website’s home page – if you’re on Facebook and haven’t already shared it, please do!

Summary of today: 7 summits (total 370), 9.6 miles (15.4 km); 2,513′ (765 m) climbed. The most important statistic though, is the fact that I’ve now walked more than 500 miles in this challenge. And if you return to the home page you’ll be able to see (and hear) me singing (if that’s the right word) – about it.

Day 55 – The Awesome Wastwater Screes – and more…

065 Screes.52
Looking down the screes to England’s deepest lake

No one who’s driven along the side of Wastwater can fail to be impressed by the steep mountainside above the opposite bank, draped by huge scree slopes and plunging into the deep water. The walk across the top of these screes has no difficulties, unless you have a fear of heights, and the views down to the lake from the top are truly breathtaking.

010 Start.04
Crossing Lingmell Gill just after the start

Leaving a car in one of many roadside spaces, Ian and I continued in the other to the National Trust car park at Brackenclose, where NT staff were out in force with the dual purpose of enforcing payment and enrolling new members. So far this year I think I’ve recouped my membership fee in free parking alone.  Passing the Fell & Rock hut (I’m told it has three-storey bunks) we started on the good path up the fell to Illgill Head (1,998′, 609 m). It was worth stopping occasionally to look back, as the view of Wasdale Head, Kirk Fell and Great Gable unfolded in all its glory.

030 Middle Fell contrast.25
I love this photo of Middle Fell – in sunshine – in front of the completely shaded Seatallan
050 Me on ascent
Wasdale Head, Kirk Fell and Great Gable. Oh, and some geezer.

Before reaching the summit a cleverly balanced cairn is encountered – good to see that everyone respects the builder’s skill and leaves it unmolested.

040 Cairn.34
But is it art? I think so!
060 Illgill Head summit.11
Clouds rolling in towards the summit of Illgill Head

As on previous days the clouds began to build, but they kept mainly above us as we headed the 1½ miles to the top of Whin Rigg. You have two choices here – the route directe across the fell top, well away from the edges (and the views) or the cliff-edge path, which winds in and out of the ravine tops to reveal – not so much screes, but stark buttresses of rock and vertiginous, near-vertical cliffs. That’s the one for me!

070 Down screes.19
The camera may not lie, but neither does it give a true idea of how precipitous this feels in real life

The situation is stunning, nowhere threatening or exposed, but just near enough to savour the amazing views. There is one place where a huge, grassy section of the cliff top, perhaps the size of a squash court, has clearly slipped down by several feet and looks like it will all go crashing down one day. But the path is on the safe, landward side. A few sheep were happily grazing on its top, unaware of the danger they were putting themselves in…

080 To Whin Rigg.34
Looking towards Whin Rigg, with the much safer-feeling path on the left

Unlike the top of Illgill Head, that of Whin Rigg (1,755′, 535 m) is quite near the precipice, with the cairn set in a small stone wind shelter. There were plenty of walkers around by now, some wearing precious few clothes despite the chilly weather.

101 Whin Rigg summit.05
Whin Rigg summit
129 Irton Fell Ian summit.50
Ian marks the true summit of Irton Fell

Irton Fell (1,296′, 395 m) is an easy walk, a gently-sloping fell top on the far side of Greathall Gill. I’m not sure why the cairn isn’t quite at the highest point, but as usual I visited both, just to be sure, before setting off for Great Bank.

140 Great Bank summit.15
Hard to describe what a difficult task it was to get here

Not a high fell at 1,079′ (329 m), but Great Bank doesn’t surrender its summit easily. The former forest has recently been felled, leaving a nightmare of tree stumps, branches and stagnant pools of filthy water. And this isn’t the worst bit! The knoll that’s the top section of the fell is steep and thickly clad in bracken, heather and bilberry. It was one of the most difficult hacks of the year: at the top I glanced down at my legs and saw dried blood everywhere – except it wasn’t blood, it was the smearing of scores of ripe bilberries!

165 Felled trees.57
Yuk. Just yuk

After slogging through the old forest it was a pleasure to follow the steep pitched path down Greathall Gill to the valley bottom, where the path followed the River Irt until we reached the road and a brief trek back to the car.

Route

Another day done – there have been quite a few in the last couple of weeks – 4 summits bringing the overall number up to 363 – almost exactly two-thirds done.  Time for a few days off before coming back next weekend (as I write this, that’s tomorrow!)

Day 54 – Clear skies on Pillar at last?

010 Wasdale packhorse.05
The packhorse bridge over Mosedale Beck at Wasdale Head

The Mosedale Horseshoe is a classic route from Wasdale Head including Pillar, Scoat Fell and Red Pike: before today I’d walked it three times, but once on high ground I’d never enjoyed a view of any kind. On each occasion I’d walked it in cloud (or cloud and heavy rain), so with a bright forecast for today I was optimistic of a more rewarding day.

020 Ian to Black Sail.17
Heading towards Black Sail Pass with Black Crag and Pillar ahead

And as I drove along one of Britain’s finest roads (when there’s no traffic) along the side of Wastwater, the sky looked reasonably clear above the mountains I was bound for.  I met up with my regular walking companion Ian Hardy (without Meg the Flat Coat Retriever this time) and we set off from the Wasdale Head green, past lots of tents and the famous Inn.

040 Black Sail YHA.46
The famous Youth Hostel at Black Sail, from way above on the ridge

The walk soon passes a fine packhorse bridge over Mosedale Beck before heading up, gradually at first, towards the Black Sail Pass. A steady plod kept us moving onwards and upwards, crossing Mosedale Beck higher up to the pass, where the onward path drops down into Ennerdale. Here we turned left along the ridge, heading towards Pillar, but first of all Looking Stead (2,057′, 627 m) from where, as the name suggests, there are great views in all directions – down Mosedale, into Ennerdale, and across to the bulk of Pillar.

050 Looking Stead summit.20
Looking Stead summit, looking at Pillar
060 Looking down.34
Eerily misty crags near the summit of Pillar

There was a lot more ascent to be done – almost 900 ft more, and before we arrived at our highest point of the day, the cloud had returned and we were back in cold misty conditions, adding more layers of clothing.  There were some long drops off on the right which I would have liked to see, and of course Pillar Rock, which I’ll be doing as a separate rock climb (er, hopefully) was masked by the cloud too. The first person we saw was at the trig-pointed summit (2’927′, 892 m) where a fellow walker was busy talking to someone on the phone. Slightly depressed at the lack of any view (again!) we pressed on down the steep descent to the aptly-named Windy Gap.

070 Pillar misty summit.13
Pillar summit, in cloud for the fourth successive visit. Grrr!
081 To Black Crag.00
Across Windy Gap to Black Crag

At the top of the next ascent was the bouldery top of Black Crag (2,717′, 828 m), and the cloud cleared!! I could hardly believe it – we could see down the Mosedale valley on one side, Ennerdale on the other, and across to Steeple and Red Pike. Wow!!

090 Black Crag summit Ennerdale.45
The veils are blown away on Black Crag – looking to Ennerdale
100 To Scoat Steeple Ian.35
Almost room for a game of football

Another climb led to Scoat Fell (2,760′, 841 m), where a stone wall surprisingly crosses the top of the fell. More people were arriving from different directions now, as we followed the steep little descent and the slightly exposed climb back up to Steeple (2,687′, 819 m), a very distinctive top. Whether it deserves Wainwright status all on its own, or would be better described as a spur of Scoat Fell, isn’t really important – it’s a prominent feature of the local landscape.

120 Scoat to Steeple.45
Steeple from Scoat Fell
111 To Red Pike.29
Regular looking corrugations on the side of Red Pike

In the past I’ve never been able to find the path from Scoat Fell to Red Pike, blaming it on the thick mist each time. Now I discovered the real reason – there isn’t one! Not really – it seems to be a question of following your nose across the wide top for several hundred yards before a faint path eventually begins to appear, dropping to a col and then starting the long rise to Red Pike (2,709′, 826 m). Actually, the path doesn’t go to the summit either – it goes past at a distance of about 75 yards and you have to make a deliberate effort to leave it if you want to visit the top.

150 Red Pike summit to Pillar.42
Red Pike summit

 

Which you should, because the views back to Pillar and Black Crag are well worth the effort.

195 Up Stirrup Crag.41
Stirrup Crag

Only two summits left – the two tops of Yewbarrow – but only after a very long descent to Dore Gap, a col above a large, steep scree slope (which I descended once when daylight was getting short – quite an experience). And from Dore Gap came Stirrup Crag, a near vertical rocky ascent which at times is a real ‘hands-on’ scramble – nowhere dangerous but quite exhilarating.

240 Yewbarrow S top to Mickledore.10
Looking to the Scafells from Yewbarrow South Top

Confusion over which top was the true North top of Yewbarrow was resolved by visiting both and leaving a card at the one with a cairn. This is the lower of the two tops on Yewbarrow at 2,021′ (616 m) and almost half a mile from the higher South top (2,058′, 628 m), where the impressive cairn left no doubt as to the highest point and enjoyed great views of Scafell Pike, Scafell and Mickledore, the toothless gap between them.

252 Heading down.31

The path down the nose of Yewbarrow (and what a nose!) is steep, shaly and slippery, so we returned to the col half way to the North top and found a path down the side. But we regretted this a little when it seemed to go a long way back towards Dore Head, and then descended very steeply on a stretch which seems to have been washed away during last winter’s floods.

275 Wastwater screes.38
Wastwater and the Screes

But although this was the longer way round, it still led back eventually to where we’d left Ian’s car, in the little car park by Overbeck Bridge. Just before getting there I was overtaken by another walker who recognised the logo on my rucksack. He’d earlier found my card on Pillar, and now it’s in the Rogues Gallery on this website.

288 Back to Yewbarrow.47
Looking back to the imposing Yewbarrow

Another 8 summits today (making £35.90 worth!) with a distance of 10.4 miles (16.7 km) and ascent of 4,400′ (1,341 m).

 

Route

Day 53 – Black Combe mist, Stickle Pike sunshine

 

265 Great Stickle.41
Great Stickle, one of the Dunnerdale Fells

With the promise of a brightening day after a wet night I parked just off the A595 Millom Road, walked back a little way towards Broughton and found the path up towards White Combe. Talk about overgrown! Waterproof trousers were donned this time to save me from sodden legs, then hedgerow turned to bracken as the open fell was reached.

010 Start Path.35
A wet start

As height was gained the view of the nearby coastline grew. I was on the most southern group of fells in the Challenge’s itinerary, not far from the Irish Sea. I kept glancing over to Black Combe, wondering when the cloud would clear – it certainly seemed to be taking its time. The first summit was White Hall Knott (1,020′, 311 m), with an odd area of shaly rock outcropping on the way – quite an imposing position.

030 White Hall outcrops.23
Near the summit of White Hall Knott
060 White Combe summit.53
White Combe summit, just beneath the clouds

Beyond the shallow col lies White Combe, somewhat higher at 1,361′ (415 m), just a steady plod to reach the rather grand stone wind shelter at the summit. Still no sign of the cloud lifting on Black Combe – in fact, by the time I’d reached summit no 3, Stoupdale Head (1’548′, 472 m) I literally had my head in the clouds. A few small stones mark the highest point of the flattish top, in marked contrast to the previous summit.

070 Stoupdale Head summit.05
From the summit of Stoupdale Head, Black Combe remains veiled in cloud

One and a half miles to Black Combe, and all of it in cloud, becoming so thick that near the summit it was almost impossible to know where the actual top was – but the path led directly to the quaint stone wall enclosing the start white trigpoint at 1,970′ (600 m). I’m told there are the most fabulous views from here, but I was struggling to see my hand in front of my face!

090 Black Combe summit.03
600 m high at the misty murky top of Black Combe
100 S Top summit.41
An impressive structure at the South Top of Black Combe

A couple arrived, having walked up from Whicham Church, and after a few pleasantries I set off for the South Top where, at 1,926′ (587 m) a huge circular cairn announces its presence. It was cold as well as cloudy, so I set off down as soon as possible – no path but a compass bearing kept me safe from any precipices and before long I was back below the grey blanket. In fact the sun quickly came out, the sky turned blue, and all was well with the world!

130 Last path.03
On the track back, the veil lifts

After a brief slog down a steep slope choked with bracken I joined the bridleway which led me gently back to the car. It wasn’t quite 2.00 so I looked at the map and decided that a little group of three hills in the nearby Dunnerdale Fells would make a pleasant afternoon. Parking the car at Kiln Bank Cross I set off again, this time in glorious sunshine for a change.

210 Stickle Pike.25
Stickle Pike

230 Stickle Pike summit.43

Stickle Pike (1,231′, 375 m) is indeed a distinctive ‘pike’ with a steep pull up to the top. The descent is even steeper, and careful footwork was needed across some loose rock before the ground eased. Tarn Hill (1,027′, 313 m) is well named, as the high ground around it is peppered with small tarns, some clear blue, others weed-choked. I heard a geologist once say “It’s the fate of all bodies of water to silt up” (eventually) and my surroundings seemed to confirm this.

250 Tarn Hill summit.49
Tarn Hill

Another pleasant, undulating walk along faint paths and quad tracks led to the grandly-named Great Stickle, which only just makes the list of Birkett summits, sneaking in at 1,001′ (304 m) – although it feels higher, and is flattered by a fine white trigpoint at the summit. The views from here, both towards the coast to the south, and to the grander Lakeland mountains to the north, were worth lingering for, before I returned to the car and headed for my night’s digs in Eskdale.

275 Great Stickle summit.36
The summit of Great Stickle, a lovely spot

So – a better day than planned, with 8 summits making a total of 351 (blimey – that’s £35.10 now folks!). 9.28 miles (14.93 km) and 2,905′ (885 m) of ascent. Total figures now 476 miles (766 km) and 143,600′ (43,757 m) of climbing.

Black Combe route

Dunnerdale route

Day 52 – Paddy and the Buck Barrows

020 Stoneside 2.22
Cloud comes in over Stoneside Hill

Corney Fell. You may never have heard of it – but this moorland road roughly between Broughton-in-Furness and Ravenglass cuts across high ground peppered with some unusual-looking rocky crags – plus a nearby dome-shaped fell which (I hope I don’t cause offence) is about as boring as it gets.

030 Stoneside summit Val.53
Val strikes a pose at the top of Stoneside Hill

It also has the advantage, after a few days’ walking, especially the tough day on Scafell Pike yesterday, that you can park the car at 1,300′ (400 m) above sea level, a handy head start! In fact it wasn’t far to the first summit – Stoneside Hill, standing at 1,384′ (422 m), less than 500 m from the road, with a steep finish to the cone-like, rocky top. Mind you, almost as soon as we’d started, all the summits began to disappear in the veils of cloud that kept being blown in from the not-so-distant blue sea.

040 Stoneside to Great Paddy.04
Cracking view towards Great Paddy Crag…

A steady ascent took us towards the base of the rocky outcrop that is the wonderfully-named Great Paddy Crag (1,745′, 532 m). We were back up in the clouds again (and getting used to it!) – and with the clouds comes cold.  A stone wall crosses the summit, with the cairn on an outcrop just the other side – but easy to get to.

060 Gt Paddy summit.05
…and not much different from it!

The wall made navigation easy as we headed west to Kinmont Buck Barrow at 1,754′ (535 m) (what these hills lack in exciting features is made up for by unusual names), where an area of large stones made it a challenge to reach the summit without breaking one leg or the other, a bit like the top of Scafell Pike yesterday. The cloud was now very thick, with a wetting drizzle, and the next summit – Buck Barrow without the Kinmont (1,799′ 549 m) was invisible from here.

070 Val to Kinmont mist.33
It’s in there somewhere

More navigation effort was required but it was a fairly straightforward hike to yet another craggy top. The only trouble was you had to get up close and personal to work out which was the highest point.

090 Plough summit.17
I guess the post is meant to mark the summit of Plough Fell. I’m not so sure – it could be anywhere within an area the size of a football pitch!

The final summit, if it can be called that, was Plough Fell (1,470′, 448 m), a shallow dome of a hill with a wide top. But what it lacked in drama it made up for in drudge. A long plod across a wide, boggy saddle to get there, then an even longer pathless trudge to the path back to the car. And it’s fair to say that the highest point didn’t provide much excitement to add any interest to the walk! Apart from setting me wondering how, in all those acres of boggy grass, there happened to be a little stone outcrop right at the top.

route map

After five perhaps not-so-memorable hills we chased a few sheep away from the car and set off home after our five days on the hills. I’d be back again after only two days off…

Day 51 – Monsoon on Scafell Pike and I take a tumble!

The weather forecast for Monday 25 July was good, and I had company – Chris Wood was to spend the day with me. The last time he did that we cycled 100 miles from York, so this would be somewhat different. Just how different we would soon discover…

010 Starting Esk Valley.19
Near the start, in the Esk valley

Today’s schedule was Scafell Pike, approached via the interesting summit of Pen, on top of the forbidding-looking Dow Crag; and we would also do Scafell Pike’s ‘satellites’ of Broad Crag and Ill Crag, each over 3,000′ (914 m), then continue via Lingmell over to Wasdale, where Val would pick us up. We met at the Woolpack Inn, where Chris had spent the night, and Val drove us to Brotherilkeld to start the long trek up through Eskdale.

020 LIngcove Bridge.07
Lingcomb Bridge, where Lingcomb Beck joins the Esk

The clouds were grey and looming as we headed for Lingcomb Bridge, but the weather forecast said they would soon clear, so we weren’t worried. All the recent rain meant that fording the river above the bridge wasn’t easy, and Chris ended up with very wet feet. As we started the long, very steep climb to the side of Dow Crag up to Pen, it began to rain. Quite hard. We donned waterproofs, as this ‘shower’ looked like it might last for a while.

030 Dow Crag.36
Dow Crag. The summit of Pen is out of sight behind the highest point

It really was a tough climb: Wainwright described this route by saying “At least there is a route entirely on grass” but it’s so steep it still involves quite a bit of handwork and in places it’s a good idea not to look down! Eventually, in the cloud as well as rain, we reached the summit of Pen (2,500′, 762 m). The cloud put paid to any views apart from a brief glimpse down Little Narrowcove for a fleeting instant. ** See the postscript below for a nice story about Pen summit **

040 Pen Summit.45
‘Nothing to see here’ – apart from the small cairn at the summit of Pen

We contoured into the cove and found the path up to Broad Crag Col at the top – as it steepened the path became loose scree and keeping your footing wasn’t always easy. Turning right at the col we headed for Broad Crag (3,054′, 931 m). The rain was now of monsoon proportions, with the individual drops so big they glistened white like hailstones.

050 Little Narrowcove.47
Looking down from Pen into Little Narrowcove

For much of the way on this section there is no real path – the ground is simply covered with large boulders, and boulder-hopping on wet slippery stone demands a lot of care. We found the top of Broad Crag, where we had to disappoint a lonely walker, convinced he was at the summit of Scafell Pike. I tried to check the map on my iPhone but all the water must have got to it  – the phone was dead, and I knew if I took my paper map out it would be pulp in seconds.

070 Chris near Pen.52
Chris squelches his way into Little Narrowcove

Another group of walkers appeared, soaked. One of them, straggling behind with his girlfriend, was shivering uncontrollably and complaining that his friends were determined to reach the summit, over half a mile away. We called them back and suggested they abandon their hopes and get back down before their friend became seriously hypothermic. Reluctantly they agreed and set off back to Seathwaite.

We headed, mapless, to where I thought Ill Crag was, with the path a river of red, gruel-like mud. Luckily, despite the poor visibility, we found our target without difficulty, although the fact that there are two summits, both apparently at the same height of 3,067′ (935 m) meant that we had to visit both.

Scafell Pike summit
Scafell summit on a drier day. Photo courtesy of wordsonamountain

Back to the path-river, over the boulders, and down to Broad Crag Col again. Up the steep final pitch to the top of England’s highest mountain, 3,210′ (978 m) above sea level with the monsoon still raging. There’s always someone at the summit – today there were three or four other small parties. Someone had a waterproof map so I checked the bearing of the path I wanted to take to head towards Lingmell Col and we set off.

The mountain rescue stretcher box at Mickledore, with Broad Stand and Scafell in the distance
The mountain rescue stretcher box at Mickledore, with Broad Stand and Scafell in the distance (we couldn’t see them!) Photo courtesy of grough.co.uk

We should have gone west and veered to the north after a while. In the cloud I took us to the south instead – the path looked inviting and right. We’d descended a long way when a shed with ‘Mountain Rescue’ signs loomed out of the mist, and I knew we’d gone wrong. Something told me we were at Mickledore, where the choices were to head up to the separate mountain of Scafell (no thank you) or descend a ridiculously steep path to rejoin our descent path – but in these conditions I decided against. Which left only one option – trudge back most of the way to the Scafell Pike summit and find the right path.

It was a long way and an unwelcome one, but (having almost gone all the way back) we found the right path and headed down towards Lingmell Col. But without a map we couldn’t be sure when we’d found the col, and we were by now too tired to spend time looking for it. So we decided to head straight down the path to Wasdale Head.

090 Lingmell.28
Lingmell, saved for another day – not very clever as it’s 2,649′ (807 m)

With the weather being so bad there had been nowhere to shelter and have something to eat, so I’d had nothing since breakfast – a big mistake as, without realising it, I was now ‘hitting the wall’.  Half way down, my feet decided on an even quicker route and after one of those 2,3,4,5… step stumbles I lost the battle and crashed to the ground head first. Ouch! and ouch! again!  The lenses of my glasses stayed intact but not the frame, my forehead was a bloody mess around the right eye and I knew I’d cut my shin but couldn’t be bothered to look.

080 Wastwater and beck.11
The ‘gentle stream’ of Lingmell Beck, with Wastwater behind

It stopped raining. At last. I’d guess that in four hours, three inches of rain had fallen. As we got nearer the bottom, the stream in Brown Tongue was a raging torrent of pure white water, whilst a small side stream, normally stepped across, was another foot-drenching river.  Val was waiting for us in the car park, having had a lovely dry day in Eskdale, not realising that we might have had any rain until she drove up Wasdale and saw all the huge puddles.

95 Me end
Wet through and slightly battered!

So ended the toughest day so far, with only 4 summits (albeit big ones!) making a total of 338. Mileage today 10.01 (16.1 km) and ascent of 4,150′ (1,264 m). The total mileage is now 462 (744 km) and the total ascent 139,545′ (42,506 m).

Route 1

Route 2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

** Two days after visiting the summit of Pen, I received an email with a photo of my ‘calling card’ from Derek Leslie, who had found a much better day to do the climb! It was his LAST Birkett of the 541, and the fact that he found my card there made it, I like to think, that bit more special. Derek made a very generous donation to Cancer Research UK via the Just Giving link, for which I’m very grateful – thanks Derek! The photo, by the way, is on the Rogues’ Gallery page.**