Windy Gyle from Barrowburn

I sort of nagged Yvonne to come up with a route and this was the result. I had absolutely no idea what to expect, and was pleased to see the slopes of the Cheviot Hills rising around me as I drove towards Barrowburn.

We started from the car park there, and proceeded up and down a series of pleasantly rolling hills. The Cheviots sort of remind me of the Howgills, although maybe not quite as high, and maybe the gills aren’t quite as steep sided.

With very little sign of civilisation, you can walk for miles across the grassy moors. The hills rise and fall around you, providing beautiful, peaceful views.

We walked for a while, enjoying all this, until we reached the Pennine Way. We joined it, walking along the border to reach the top of Windy Gyle  All the time looking over the border (little fence), to Scotland.

In fact, we did actually venture into Scotland, since Windy Gyle is on their side of the line. Very appropriate name, Windy Gyle, the wind was very strong as we approached. I loved it, especially as the air was warm.
We enjoyed our lunch and the views into Scotland from the trig point. The air was clear, and we could see for miles, including watching the downpours as they crossed to the North of us. We could also see three little hills that seemed to just grow out of the ground, unattached to anything else. I checked later, they are the Eildon Hills, near Melrose, 22 1/2 miles away.  Created by volcanic activity, but not extinct volcanoes.

Fed and watered, it was time to go down. We followed the Pennine Way and the border for a little while before turning southwest and heading for Davidson’s Linn. There is a brilliant little waterfall here. In fact, you get two for the price of one.

The weather changed now, and went from being very warm and pleasant to cold and wet. The shower didn’t last long, but it was enough to make us change the planned route and take a quicker path through the pine forest. We emerged into a valley surrounded by the gently rounded hills.

And now it was back to walking amongst these lovely hills. More down than up this time and surrounded by the rolling green hills. A delightful way to while away the day. And then, we were back at our cars. Legs and feet were satisfyingly tired; we’d completed over 13 miles and about 2300ft of up and down. Cool.

Scafell Pike Take Two

Did you know that if you start at Wasdale Head to get to the top of Scafell Pike, which is around 3200ft, then you climb 2950 feet(ish). If you start at Pen-y-pass to get to the top of the bigger mountain, Snowdon, which is about 3600ft, you climb 2400 feet? Work that one out!

Today we had to leave Langdale, so we packed up our lovely little tent, filled the car and set off over the rollercoaster, past our starting point yesterday and on to Wasdale Head for another go at Scafell Pike. At the car park, a quick assessment of the weather meant that we donned our wetproof trousers, thicker fleeces and our warm coats. The clouds were covering the tops of the mountains; we couldn’t see the heights of any of them. This was going to be interesting.

Wasdale at the start of our walk

We set off up the well trodden tourist path. Apart from the fact that it’s uphill, (and I’m slow remember), it’s a dead easy path. Clearly marked, with paved steps most of the way up. As I said, the weather wasn’t brilliant, but we got a few pictures of Wasdale and of the route ahead.

The river alongside the tourist path

Looking down towards Wasdale

Effectively, Peter had chosen a not too touristy route, i.e. Route 2 from Routes up Scafell from Wasdale. What this meant is that we took the right fork at Hollow Stones and headed up towards a narrow ridge which connects Scafell with Scafell Pike. As we got higher, we moved into the cloud base and the visibility suddenly reduced dramatically, but this was at exactly the wrong point!

The bottom of the cloud base about 1700ft up

This part of the route is described; “the route climbs one of the scree-filled gullies which drop steeply down from the crest of Mickledore.” Not joking it’s steep! And it is scree..... Small loose scree. And we couldn’t work out which path we should be following, if there was a path at all. With the visibility reduced as it was, we couldn’t see a lot.

OK, we didn't actually climb this scree slope, but ours looked about the same, what we could see through the cloud that covered it anyway. 

We did faff about there for a while, moving from side to side until we worked out which way we were supposed to get up. It was steep, with scree and loose rocks making it difficult underfoot until we reached the crags.  Now we had to select the safest looking gulley to scramble up. Peter did the man stuff and worked out the best way, then suddenly, Hey Presto! We were on top. Thing is, we didn’t know that really, because we couldn't see over the edges. (I think we’ll have to go back, when the suns out.)
Then it was a trudge over all the loose rocks and stones. How good are those people who build all those cairns? True, it was difficult to see them sometimes, but we just followed them, past the MRT storage container, onwards and upwards.
Conditions by now had got quite bad, the wind had picked up, with strong gusts that stopped us in our tracks. Not only that, the mists of the cloud kept fuzzing up my glasses, I couldn’t see through them. We kept going and finally reached the trig point. No views of course, but I knew I was there. Yippee. 

 It was a bit tough staying on our feet though. The gusts of wind were so strong; there was a good risk being pushed over into the rocky ground.. We decided we’d better go down quick.

You are allowed to laugh at this picture, just not in my presence.

I took my glasses off in the end, I had less blur without them, and followed Peter who followed the cairns.  We took the Brown tongue route down, but to be honest, we could have been anywhere, trudging along the well defined path – fortunately, to Hollow Stones, where we followed cairns.  Down, down, down we kept going.  Would we ever get out of this cloud?  We did eventually, at around 1600ft I think.  And suddenly we could see the world again.

But it was still a long way down.  The path is good, but my knees really started to complain as we got to the final few hundred feet.  We could see the car, but it wasn’t getting closer fast enough.  Finally, exhausted, we fell into it, and Peter started on the 2 ½ hour drive home.

I’ve just been to the top of Scafell Pike, the highest point in England.  How cool is that!

(Scafell Pike? Errrr, nope)...... Eskdale

(Before I start, our tent is brill, perfect for two, and Langdale is as stunning as ever.)

Peter had worked out a brilliant route to get up the highest mountain in England - Scafell Pike.  We’d decided that the 13 mile walk from Langdale was too far, but if we drove around to Jubilee Bridge at the bottom of Harter Fell in Eskdale, we could have an enjoyable and easy walk up Eskdale to Cam Spout Crag. From there we could get up to Scafell Pike by going to Broad Stand and across. A 10 mile walk where the last mile or so would be the most difficult and where we would gain two thirds of the height.  Perfect.

I should point out that to get a car from Langdale to our starting point is an achievement in itself.  The road is just a single track lane up and down hills that get as steep as a 1:3 climb and with hairpin bends to make your hair curl.  It does have the benefit of tarmac…. mostly….. But the holes in it were probably responsible for a fair amount of car suspension damage.  Fortunately there are loads of convenient passing places, most drivers took a bit of care, and Peter drove.

Anyway, we arrived with only minor damage to the car spoiler, parked in a lay by, booted up, and set off.  

The start of our walk.  Eskdale, with the mighty Bowfell dead centre

The weather was brilliant, lovely and sunny.  The valley was lovely to walk along, with the river alongside us, and straight ahead, the imposing sight of Bowfell.  It was great to be there.

Bowfell is still ahead.  Lovely

And again.  Awesome

Looking back along the river Esk, to Kepple Crag I think

We happily strolled along, me taking pictures, Peter filming the waterfalls, until we got to Tongue Pot. Here, we saw a large group of teenagers with guides all dressed in wet suits and apparently working their way up the valley by climbing up the river and all its waterfalls. It looked fun.

Tongue Pot.  The water is so clear here.  A lovely spot. 

Then we noticed another group of 5 young men nearby.  These guys were not climbing the waterfalls; they were jumping from the cliffs alongside into the plunge pools below!  We stood and watched, amazed.   I tried to get a decent photograph, but this is the best I could do.

Tongue Pot Leap......... Crazy!

Then there was the little packhorse bridge, Lingcove Bridge and the lovely waterfall nearby.  We filmed and photographed, immersed in our surroundings, enjoying all the new and delightful sights around us.  The wetsuit brigade carried on up the river, we watched a little more and then walked on.

Lingcove Bridge 

Waterfall on Lingcove Beck, just beyond the packhorse bridge

A little bit of a climb next over Throstle Garth (sounds like the name of a bouncer!) and Throstlehow Crag following the River Esk up to Great Moss and Cam Spout Crag. 

I liked it there.  We were on a great flat plain surrounded by the Crags and Mountains of the Lakes.  It was a bit wet n boggy though, and we struggled to find a dry route through some patches. 

Looking across Eskdale, Scafell Pike looms ahead

We reached Cam Spout Crag and the How Beck Waterfalls and looked for a way to cross the river.  We missed the fording point, and wandered up and down for a few minutes trying to find a way over.  In the end, we decided to take our boots and socks off and paddle across.  It was only a few inches deep, and the water was very clear, easy to see what we would be standing on.

Peter went first.  “Oh, this is lovely” he said, with a few “oohs” and “ows” because of the sharp stones underwater.  He stepped on the other bank and turned round to watch me cross. 

I put one foot in the water……….. All the muscles in my toes, foot ankle and calf suddenly retracted in distaste…. 

I put the second foot in the water; my poor little feet and tootsies couldn’t tolerate it. They screamed in pain at the cold, “Oh My God……… It’s FLAMING FREEEZING!” I screeched at Peter, “How could you say this is lovely?”

I couldn’t stand it; I had to get out.  I stood on the bank glaring at Peter across the water.  How on earth was I going to get across? I walked barefoot up river, but couldn’t find a fording point.  I came back to the point where Peter was sat on the opposite bank.  I was not happy!

Peter in the meantime was completely stunned by my refusal to paddle across, completely bewildered, he tried to encourage me. “Here’s not so bad”, he said, “Or maybe this bit”…….. To me however, that water was so cold it hurt! But there was nothing for it, I had to go across. The water was so cold I couldn’t think about anything else, not even taking the next step ……………
I got to the bank and leapt out. We decide to sit, have a bite, and let our feet (and socks) dry in the sun. My feet throbbed at me in indignant recrimination, but eventually returned to their normal state and I was able to get my boots back on. Peter could not understand why I had turned into a big girls blouse and found it all so difficult. I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t? But we were done with that now, so what next?

The River Esk under Scafell Pike and Ill Crag.  Who'd have thought one little river could've caused so much noise

Fed and watered, our next challenge turned out to be the scramble up Cam Spout Crag alongside How Beck Waterfalls.  This was not necessarily what I thought we would be doing, but we were here now, and I do sort of like scrambling.  The waterfalls were really lovely; the top has a flow that looks like lightning streaks, and the bottom half gushes over in a torrent.  Wonderful.

Top section of How Beck Waterfall.

Lower How Beck Waterfall

The whole waterfall at Cam Spout Crag.  The section on the right is our scramble route up 

Up on top we started up the path towards Broad Stand. I looked up. I checked my GPS. I asked Peter what the time was. I looked up again.

Looking up to Scafell Pike from the top of How Beck Waterfall.

Looking over Eskdale

Our next problem was me.  I am very slow at getting up hills.  People tell me that I will get better the more I do, and this may be true.  But I am still slow at getting up them hills. Above us, there was over a mile in distance a very steep 1800ft ascent, and the time was 3:15pm.  We had been taking it easy and enjoying ourselves so much that we'd taken over 5 hours to get to where we were..  Now, if we were at the top, it would take us an absolute minimum of 3 hours to get back to the car, probably more.  Allowing for driving time to etc, that left just about an hour and a bit to get to the top and still be back to the Sticklebarn in time for a cooked meal

For many people, this would not be a problem, but I know how slow I am. I knew that if we went for it, we’d be lucky to get back to the car before it started to get dark.   Peter was more optimistic and I wanted to give it a go, but I didn’t want to risk us wandering around in the dark or, much more likely, to miss our supper.

The views from the highest point of our day

So, regretfully, we made the decision to turn and follow our planned route home.  This did mean we would have to climb down the Cam Spout scramble, (not something I wanted to do) but it’s all a learning curve isn’t it?

Looking back - Scafell Pike is still there behind us

It did take us over three hours to get back.  We arrived at the car at about 6.30pm and we took the rollercoaster back to Langdale.  Yes we were back in time for supper at the Sticklebarn, feeling a little bit disappointed, but  I wasn't going to give up that easy.

We checked out the maps and routes whilst waiting for our meals, and agreed that Coniston Old Man can wait.   The weather forecast wasn't brilliant and it would mean a bit of a drive from Langdale, but we decided to try again from Wasdale Head in the morning.

Scafell Pike here we come.......  (Take two).