As part of our training for the TGO, we penned in a few weekends to improve our fitness and slowly cull intended kit (there is a huge pile of stuff we ‘may’ take but don’t want to carry!) to ease our legs across bonnie Scotland. Some challengers seem to take 35L backpacks, which either means they are absolute miracle workers with PhDs in rucksack packing, or they simply take much less with them – shocking, I know. We no doubt will pick up some of the forbidden knowledge from these backpacking otakus (though we won’t be drilling holes in our toothbrushes to cut weight as someone of the Ultra Lightweight Backpackers are known to do).
When looking at areas, one which popped out was the Northern Lakeland fells. I’ve done Skiddaw and Blencathra plenty of times, yet never quite headed to the fells behind these – in part as I seem to gravitate to the central fells on most of my trips, and the Northern Fells’ reputation of being boggy didn’t help their case. Once looking at the maps, there is plenty to get our teeth in to, ending with an interesting route (viewranger external link for gpx file) of 15 Wainwrights over 2 days, a pretty sturdy challenge of around 45km with plenty of ascent.
The intention was to tick off as many Wainwrights as possible with a circular route whilst not wasting a large amount of time driving deeper in to the Lakes. Heading off at 7am was in order, though we made some time for only a brief stop at the Little Chef outside Penrith for a bacon sandwich to help propel us more quickly up that first fell! (note, they were rubbish, should have tried the Llama Karma Kafe instead).
Bowscale Tarn was a superb little place, and would have made a fine wild camp spot – tranquil and well protected with a bubbling stream running away away from the tarn down the mountain side. We took the steep ascent straight to Bowscale itself, and quickly hit hill fog. This meant getting the map and compass out a little earlier than we would have wanted and we proceeded towards Bannerdale Crags in full clag.
The general dampness turned in to a persistent drizzle, rain jackets were put on, and we continued to navigate via compass in dense mist. The original plan was to stride out to Mungrisdale Common, an uninspiring Wainwright in terms of height but potentially lovely views on a clear day – though we both agreed this would be nothing more than a plod across boggy ground in the thick fog – instead, we went directly to take the Foule Crag route up Blencathra.
It was blowing a gale by now (a theme for most of my hikes), so this seemed a good time to take a stop out of the wind just below the ridge and grab lunch. The bothy bag was pulled out but was somewhat ineffective on uneven ground in such high wind – I use the 2-person version due to it being easier to handle in high winds, yet it isn’t great if you’re on a slope due to you needing to sit opposite each other in a fixed position, making you likely to slide down any slope you happen to be on!
We took a direct descent to the due west of Blease Fell, a steep route which cut off 3-4 km by directly hitting the main track even if it a careful descend was necessary in the wet conditions – though by the bottom we at least got a reprieve from the rain. Once at the bottom we were on the supply track for Skiddaw House (probably the most remote Youth Hostel in the UK) we made good progress and gained height towards our campsite. The site itself wasn’t fixed at that point, it was more a group of little circles on the map with hopeful question marks immediately above them! The low fog rolled in thicker towards the mid-afternoon, and by the time we reached Skiddaw House YH we realised Lonscale Fell wasn’t going to happen that day due to pretty much zero visibility and still heavy rain.
We started to search for a camp site which put us in a good position for the second day. There seemed to be precious little choice though with many potential areas were either covered in heather or about to become waterlogged. We put up the tents on high ground by a stream and decided to give ourselves half an hour for the rain to ease, each retreating to our tent – warm kit thrown on and slowly drying out. Making some food (fresh pasta and cheese sauce has to be a backpacking high point for anyone) put us in a good mood despite the weather and as the heavy rain returned we hit the sleeping bags early.
The next morning was glorious without a dark cloud in sight, a welcome change from the damp fog of the night before. Stoves quietly lit and cup of coffee in hands, the second day was discussed and the bright morning gave us enthusiasm to keep to the planned route, hit the peaks and to finally enjoy the views. We packed up and left reasonable early to make the most of the reprieve in the weather, first ascending Sale How which was marked by hardly a handful of rocks at the summit. Turning around, this panorama was brilliant with the ‘feel’ of the back of Skiddaw making it seem secluded, cushioned on all sides by groups of fells in a way particular to the North Pennines. Taking a moment to enjoy it after the climb from camp, it was time to crack on to Skiddaw Little Man, cresting into the windward slope with high winds and low mist greeting us again – the views slowly fading behind us as we switched to navigating from the compass again.
Skiddaw Little Man was a painful climb with a painful knee, a slight injury from a slip on the first day. Steady winds at the top buffeted us as we headed up Skiddaw, a hill which has some glorious views on a clear day, but we weren’t to be blessed with them. Cracking on from the summit wearrived at another Wainwright in Bakestall during the descent toward the valley bottom – with a view towards Bassenthwaite which would have been a nice spot to linger on a still, sunny day.
The original plan was to head straight down to the valley and take the steep climb to Little Calva. At the bottom of the valley we broke the stove out and rehydrated our first ‘creation’ since buying a dehydrator – a vegetable curry. I was expecting an unpalletable mess, so was surprised to find not only did it rehydrate properly, but it tasted like a solid vegetable curry! It was just as well, as with a good seven Wainwrights to hit for the afternoon so would need our energy.
The climb to Little Calva wasn’t doable with my knee as it was so we took the more reasonable path up to Great Calva, walking a km up a track past several DofE groups (carrying mountains of kit) all looking rather subdued in the rain. A muddy trail intersected with the path and headed north towards the summit – a route which quickly became an unremittingly heathery/bog trudge, with the weather now properly coming in as wind swept rain. It was providing to be a useful training hike for typical Scottish weather!
Wind shirt quickly made way for the rain shell, with hood fastened tight and gloves on firmly as we took the waterlogged path to Little Calva, and from there the two km to Knott felt like a much greater distance due to the boggy ground. The weather was really coming in and it was necessary to take a stop in the bothy bag – grab some food, put some warm clothes on and make a brew – both mulling over whether we’d change the plan for the afternoon. With an honest estimation of the torrential downpour and the painful knee, which wasn’t getting any better, we agreed to change it up by cutting the most northerly fells off the list.
As we descended in to the valley, the clouds started clearing and we almost decided to make a push for High Pike, a Wainwright with an excellent panorama (were we to get it) – but knew it was already late afternoon and I didn’t want to be carrying a heavy pack over steep, wet ground for longer than I had to. The last hour was a flat walk along the mining road back to the car, fortunately with a full moon. One by one the constellations unveiled themselves and listening to the water of the fast flowing streams in the background it became an unexpectedly relaxing experience, with the odd owl contributing the odd hoot. It was amazingly peaceful, and just made me want to come back and finish the rest of the fells even sooner.
Some good lessons from a heavy kit list and some items were culled after the trip. Top performers were the Bergans shell kit, the jacket will be “a bit heavy” for some of the ultra light back packing crowd at about 750g, but the inner mesh lining is brilliant for keeping the skin feeling dry (and therefore warm), even with the top fabric totally wet out. Also, for those fabric nerds (yes, guilty), the NX fabric puts it up there with the latest edition of Goretex Pro in terms of breathability. During the 2nd day we hiked in wind blown rain for hours, and I was worried the trousers in particular would start leaking, as I hadn’t reproofed them since I got them. Fortunately, they were absolutely solid, totally wind proof, and after reproofing them expect them to be a core part of the Scotland kit. Onwards to the coast-to-coast in May.
L|ve the Outdoors 