Travel journal

1. Area Choice
12 November 2009
16:14 Eastern Fells Area of Operation
The Cumbrian mountains presented an excellent introduction to my UK travels for the following
reasons:
○ There was a wide variety of low and high level walks encompassing some of the finest fell trails in
the country with spectacular lakeside walking and water falls of the finest grade.
○ It enabled me to visit my sister and family who I had not seen for a long time
○ There was an excellent Mountain rescue service across all the fells with short response times
○ Areas of habitation were relatively close by, increasing safety levels if I got lost
○ I wanted to test out the recommended routes of Alfred Waignwright in areas he highlighted for
solitary walking.
○ The area would give me a fantastic range of social history, Roman influence, Fauna and flora,
mining history and geology to explore
I chose Patterdale on the edge of Ullswater Lake as my base camp area for the first two weeks because:
○ I could explore the Eastern Fells and Far Eastern fells from a central base camp positioned
between the two ranges of Helvellyn and High Street.
○ There was a bus service from Patterdale to Penrith Railway Station
○ It was easily accessible by road from Penrith and Windermere from the M6
○ It was away from the main tourist areas of the south and would be quieter.
○ There was an excellent variety of scrambling and walking of different difficulty levels Northern Fells Area of Operation
I chose Scales village for the last week because:
○ Dusk was arriving increasingly early and I wanted immediate access onto the Blencathra range
without lengthy approach and egress time.
○ There were several recommended routes up to Blencathra from the A66 side near Scales including
scales fell, Halls fell and Doddick.
○ There were no nearby base camp sites
○ There was a good bus service from Penrith to Keswick stopping at Scales.
Area & Route Choice Page 1

2. Scrambling Routes
14 December 2009
17:24
1. Nethermost Pike
• Patterdale Hotel and follow road north towards Glenridding. Turn left into Grisedale Lane after passing
St Patricks church and the Patterdale Mountain Rescue centre.
• Follow the lane all the way up to the top keeping Grisedale Beck on your right down in the gorge.
• At the end of the Lane there is a fence and gate dead end. Turn right and cross the Beck using the bridge
and follow the path up the slope to the turnstile
• Here, rather than following the path up Birkhouse Moor to the Hole in the Wall, keep to the valley
bottom path and walk due South West past Braesteads Farm and the small underground reservoir.
• Walk all the way to the 3rd footbridge on the OS Map below Nethermost Pike, where the Nethermost
Cove Beck joins the Grisedale Beck.
• Leave the main path and head up the fell side due west to the dry stone wall which crosses ahead of
you. Climb over this and push through the thick bracken up towards the beck waterfalls above you. Try
and follow the sheep tracks and you will probably meet the old miners path which is partially hidden.
• Cross the beck carefully and then decide whether you want to scramble up the right hand or left hand
channel to the midway plateau. I chose the left hand side.
• Zigzag your way up slowly across the crags. 3 point contact at all times.
• Cross the plateau noting the old mine buildings and calf's hole
• Scramble slowly up onto the final ridge and note Hard Tarn down on your left and Striding edge over on
your right
• At the summit you have a choice of returning vide Swirral edge Helvellyn or descending to Grisedale
Tarn and then back down the valley to Grisedale woods and Patterdale. I chose the latter.
Total distance:7 miles Time:6-7hrs Ascent:2,800feet Level: Moderate
2. Helvellyn (via Striding Edge)
• Choose day carefully otherwise crowds. Midweek and low season. Nov-March preferably weather
permitting. Avoid high wind, rain or ice.
• Approach as above to Grisedale turn stile
• Long slog up Birkhouse Moor to Hole-in-wall. Stop frequently and enjoy the views
• Take the left hand path towards Striding edge via Bleaberry crag. Wonderful views down to Red Tarn on
the right and Swirral Edge opposite
• Follow the established path or if you feel daring the crest. Slow walking with some 3 point scrambling.
• Unpleasant scree slope at far end up to summit but otherwise relatively easy
• Walk to summit noting memorials and then turn north to Swirral Edge
• Slightly more difficult descent with frequent 3 point scrambling but still relatively straightforward.
• Walk across to east side of Red Tarn and then back up slope to Hole-in-the-wall,
• Descend to Patterdale on the same route you came up. AVOID descent via Glenridding on the other side
of Birkhouse Moor. This is a tedious slow zigzag over stony ground with lower standard views.
Total Distance:5 miles Time :5 hours Ascent:3000feet Level: Easy
3. Blencathra (via Sharp's Edge)
• Choose day carefully otherwise dangerous. Avoid high winds, rain and ice
• Start at Scales village pub/hotel and walk due west beside A66 to small cottage positioned close to road
• Turn right up footpath beside cottage to gate and then turn right again walking due east up scales fell.
• Ascend path which is a smooth gradual climb up to top and then bare to the left around fell side walking
Area & Route Choice Page 2

3. • Ascend path which is a smooth gradual climb up to top and then bare to the left around fell side walking
north west with the Glendermackin beck to your right in the valley below. Watch out for shrews.
• Climb the rock steps beside the scales Beck and at the top you meet Scales Tarn with the daunting
Sharps Edge towering above you to the right.
• Follow the track up to the start of the ridge and then decide whether you wish to follow the established
path on the north side or "ride the crest"
• Move very slowly and pick route carefully maintaining 3 point contact at all times. Avoid long smooth
rock faces.
• At far end choose right hand channel up to summit albeit scree ridden. Smooth rocks on left side
dangerous.
• At summit turn due south to highest point and then follow ridge to Knowe Crag. Descend down to
Blencathra Centre car park and then back via Threlkeld
Distance: 6 miles Time: 5 hours Ascent:2800feet Level: Moderate to difficult
Area & Route Choice Page 3

4. Easy Grade Routes
14 December 2009
17:24
1. Aira Force, Ullswater
• Patterdale Hotel and follow road A592 towards Glenridding . Alternative journey using bus every hour.
• Follow footpath from glenridding beside lake, off road, wherever possible.
• At Aira Force entrance follow good footpaths either side of beck up to main falls and 1 mile beyond to
very attractive High Force falls.
• Keep on East bank and walk on up to Dockray village and have lunch at village pub
• Return same path or consider longer route across Round Howe back to road
• In season there is a new tea room at the foot of Aira Force grounds.
Distance: 14 miles Time: 6 hours walking time
2. Grisedale Valley, Patterdale
• Follow route as to Nethermost Pike (see scramble section)
• From the bridge you can either turn left eastwards and cross the Grisedale Beck at this point or walk
further up the west bank towards Ruthwaite Lodge. Before reaching the lodge cross the bridge to the
other side and return down the valley towards Patterdale.
• There are magnificent views of St Sunday Crag above you and the wooded plantations at the bottom
contain a population of Red Squirrels
• Join Grisedale Lane again back down to Patterdale
• Watch out for the belted Galloway cows
Distance: 7 miles Time: 4 hours
3. Scales Farm to Threlkeld
• From Scales Farm walk west beside A66 towards Keswick.
• On reaching the small cottage beside the north side of the road turn off right up the slope following the
footpath to the turnstile.
• Here turn left west towards Threlkeld and follow the path at the foot of the fells.
• At Scaley Beck there is a tricky bit of scrambling down and up the other side but nothing too challenging.
• Continue on crossing Doddick Gill and then Gate Gill, immediately on crossing the latter turn left down
towards the Farm and the Blencathra Fox Hound Kennels (very famous)
• Follow the path down joining the lane into Threlkeld Village.
• Make sure you visit the Horse & Farrier Pub for a meal and pint of "Sneck Lifter" Outstanding Food.
• Return on the same route or follow the bridleway below the kennels through an avenue of trees to the
A66 and then back to Scales
Distance: 4 miles Time: 2.5hours walking (lunch extra)
4. Mungrisdale Common (via scales fell)
• Ascend Scales Fell from Scale Farm as before but at top cross eastwards to other side of ridge and then
descend to the Glendermackin River path and follow the path on the east side up the valley behind
Blencathra mountain past the old lead mine workings.
• Keep going up valley to top where the path joins Mungrisdale Common and then return down the other
side of the valley closest to Blencathra to Scales Fell
• Look across A66 from the top of Scales Fell towards old railway and you can see Mosedale Viaduct
Area & Route Choice Page 4

5. • Look across A66 from the top of Scales Fell towards old railway and you can see Mosedale Viaduct
Bridge
Distance: 8 miles Time: 3 hours
Area & Route Choice Page 5

6. Medium Grade Routes
14 December 2009
17:25
1. Place Fell and Lake Ullswater Walk
• From Patterdale Hotel turn right along the road to Kirkstone, past the Post Office and then cross the
road and walk up to the next lane joining the road on the left side.
• Cross the Goldrill Beck Bridge and walk up the lane to the hamlet of houses at the top
• Cross the gated entrance to the footpath signed to Boredale hause
• Slow south easterly plod up fell side to Boredale with spectacular views down to Patterdale and
Brothers Water
• At Boredale Hause cross roads take the far left hand path north up to Place fell. This is a long hard and
steep climb zigzagging upwards. Get into a short step padding rythym
• Place Fell summit is marked by a rather incongruous trig point on an overlarge stone plinth. Magnificent
views South East to Martindale and Boredale
• Descend down to old sheepfold and then turn left around High Dodd northwards past the old slate
quarry. The sound and sight of Scalehow falls can be picked up hereon in on your left.
• Follow the left hand path down below high knott and a fantastic vista of Ullswater Lake will open up
before you looking across to Aira Force.
• Turn left at the bottom and follow the lakeside path thereon over the Scalehow footbridge towards
Silver Point
• At Silver Point you have a choice of the easier low path or the high path around Silver Crag back towards
Side Farm.
• At side farm you can turn right back across the farm track crossing Goldrill Beck to the A592 or carry
straight on to the hamlet you started from. If the former watch out for the Alpine club House at the road
junction on the left. There are rare endangered Yellow Hammers feeding at the Beck.
Distance: 10 miles Time: 6 hours
Area & Route Choice Page 6

7. Difficult Grade Routes
14 December 2009
17:25
1. Grisedale Tarn and St Sunday Crag (via Fairfield)
• Route as Nethermost Pike to footbridge
• Carry on up Grisedale Beck gorge past Ruthwaite Lodge (Renovated by Outward Bound Trust in memory
of trainer killed in NewZealand on Mount Cook)
• Slow slog up path and make sure you detour at top to see Wordsworth's Brothers Parting
Commemoration stone just below Tarn
• Enjoy Grisedale Tarn which is beautiful in any weather. Stop for a picnic.
• Follow path on south side of Tarn up to Grisedale Hause cross roads and then gird your loins.
• Turn left up steep slope for 45mins of 1:2 gradient on your toes
• On reaching the summit at Fairfield pause and take a compass reading and orientate yourself using the
map, particularly if there is mist.
• Head down off your current ridge to the left northwards onto the lower ridge known as Deepdale
Hause. This is a narrow strip connecting Fairfield to St Sunday crag. DO NOT carry on up the cairn signed
path oblivious to the direction change required otherwise you will join the highway to hell , eventually
ending up in Ambleside.
• Continue along St Sunday Crag ridge all the way towards Patterdale eventually rejoining Grisedale Lane
at Home Farm. There are magnificent views across the valley to Helvellyn.
However you may feel masochistic and in this case walk due South East to Hart and Dove crag all the
way to Ambleside. Return via the Kirkstone pass.
Distance: 12 miles Time: 6 hours (12 hours via Ambleside)
2. High Street (via Angle Tarn)
• Up to Boredale Hause as route for Place fell walk.
• Take the south path towards Rake Crag and Stony Rigg following the high level narrow path around the
Angletarn Pikes towards Angle Tarn.
• On reaching the tarn walk around its perimeter and then carry on southwards towards Satura Crag.
• You will reach a long stretch of dry stone wall and follow this along the ridge with views leftwards across
Bannerdale.
• At the end of the wall turn right down the slope towards Hayeswater in the distance. At the bottom of
the slope the going gets slow due to constant dips into peat bogs. Follow the path upwards towards the
Knott zigzagging your way up. This is a slog to the top.
• At the top you join the old Roman Road High street which connected Penrith with Ambleside forts. Take
time to enjoy the views across to Martindale and look out for the Red Deer on the slopes.
• Continue south around the junction with Rampsgill Head Crag and then walk up the long hard slope of
Racecourse Hill to the Trig point at the top. This slope was used for Horse Racing at the yearly Shepherds
festival in July which ended a hundred years ago
• Walk back to the junction with Rampsgill and then turn North East towards Wether Hill following the
Roman Road. Pass High Raise and on down the slope crossing the peat bogs. These are festooned with
bird life
• Wether Hill marks the 9 hour walking point on this route requiring an overnight wild camp or bivvy.
Highly recommended.
• From Wether Hill follow the dry stone path westwards down the fell side towards Gowk Hill past the old
shepherds House and on towards the Steel Knots overlooking Martindale Hamlet. Follow the path or
detour to get a vantage point from the Knots.
• Martindale Hamlet and church are delightful and the church well worth a visit (Elizabethan)
• Follow the lane around and head up to Dale Head Farm past the Fox Hound Kennels on the road. At the
Area & Route Choice Page 7

8. •
farm turn up the slope to the right onto Beda Fell side
• Hard slog up to the top and join Boredale Hause again OR take the lower path up to Heck Crag past the
old settlement and then hard scramble up to Angle Tarn and then back to Boredale Hause.
Distance : 18 miles to Wether Hill and 10 miles back to Patterdale via Beda Fell or 14 miles via Angle
Tarn Time: 9 hours 1st part and 6 hours 2nd part
Alternatives:
(a) Martindale Hamlet start and walk up to Angle Tarn and/or Boredale Hause via Beda Fell or Heck
Crag, and then return down Beda Fell (Moderate)
(b) Mardale Head Car Park near the Rigg and walk up Riggindale ridge (Waignwright recommended) to
High Street watching out for Golden Eagles (Difficult)
Area & Route Choice Page 8

9. Travels Through my Land and Mind by James Cooke
12 November 2009
16:16
Sunday 4th October 2009
I was up at 3.30am. A little earlier than normal with a little apprehension about the journey ahead and a
fear of missing the train. My ticket was limited to travelling on the 0815 to Glasgow or bust! I was also
conscious of my somewhat laboured sequence of dawn activity to get mind and body moving. The BBC
world service magazine round up at 4am with lashings of Fair Trade Arabica Coffee, shave and bath, Little Olde England -
breakfast of porridge and a frenzied last minute pack of auxiliary items, divided between my Aztec Destination and Direction of Travel
70litre pack and a big holdall stuffed with dry freeze food bags, trail mix and numerous gas canisters.
There was no threat of starving on my journey but there was a small risk of explosion and I just hoped
that no security operations were imminent that day to screen luggage on the underground or Euston
station. I was facing a jail term of at least 25years after an overzealous prosecution under the Explosive
substances Act, Offensive Weapons and Food hygiene regulations.
At 7am I ventured out of my front door in Soho, central London full of enthusiasm and energy. This was
soon punctured as I came to terms with the enormous weight of equipment I was carrying. Not so much
the backpack which was well balanced and comfortable but the holdall which skewed the entire effort.
My initial springing step quickly evaporated into a lopsided crawl similar to an HGV loaded with hay
bails going up a hill and threatening to topple over due to loose tethers. The assembled groups of drug
dealers waiting for their early morning punters watched in awe as this Neanderthal like man waddled
towards them.
Super Fast Bendy Bus
driven by Richard Branson
Oh take me back to my Cave!
I reached Leicester Square underground Station sweating and panting after a journey of 250m. This just
did not bode well!
Reached Euston at 7.45am. Managed to topple over the newspaper turntable in WH Smiths after
turning too quickly in a narrow corridor of space and my backpack cut through like a scythe in summer
corn. No chance of retrieving anything or I would have toppled over like a turtle on the beach with no Somewhere in the heart of England
hope of recovery. there be a village so sublime
Virgin 0815 train to Glasgow on time. Not too crowded. Got two seats to my self and found space for my
equipment. Quickly engaged IPod after listening to two middle aged couples trying to impress each
other with their travels and life experience. It never ceases to amaze me how many people on public
transport talking to complete strangers try to summarise their entire life story in the first 15 minutes of
their meeting. Why?
1117 Arrive Warrington Bank Quay. Met by my sister Hilary who I hadn't seen for 2 years. Back to Lymm,
Cheshire. The last time I was here was in May 1984 (25 years ago)during my honeymoon, when Liz and I
had lunch on the patio before returning to Ruislip from the Lake District.
The house sits in a residential road with tightly compacted semi -detached post war properties, opposite
the primary school where my nephew and niece attended. David, my brother in law welcomes me and I
am pleased to see him after so long. He is recovering from cancer surgery but he does not look very On the Allotment with my Supper in
different from how I remember him except much thinner. the background
In the afternoon we all take a 1.5hr walk to Hilary's allotment where I am asked to choose the leeks I
would like for supper. Very impressive. Then back home via the canal and Lymm village centre.
Rowan, my niece comes over for supper, she is 28 years old now and teaching sciences in a Liverpool
secondary school in very difficult circumstances. I also spoke to Jonathan my nephew in Texas on the
phone. He is a vet working at one of USA's biggest veterinary research hospitals.
Bed 9pm
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10. Monday 5th October
16 November 2009
09:58
Up 5.30am. Last shave and wash for 5 days!
Re-packed rucksack absorbing fuel and food rations for week. Pack feels comfortable and well balanced.
I estimate approx 25Kg in weight.
Hilary drives me up to Lakes starting out at 7.10am. M6 vide Preston and Penrith. Traffic not too bad
and kept moving throughout. Slowest before Preston. Arrive Patterdale exactly 9.10am (100miles). Full
cooked breakfast in the Patterdale hotel for both of us . Very busy restaurant with elderly tour groups.
Manager informs me hotel full throughout year. £159 for 5 nights half board (Breakfast and Dinner).
Single night £58 Bed and Breakfast per person.
An Oasis of Good Ales
First Day Area of Operations
Base Camp - "Palace of the
Fells" back, side and front
Check weather forecast on Hotel notice board. This is very comprehensive and has been taken from the view
Mountain Weather Service web site http://www.mwis.org.uk/ld.php. Weather looks good today but
heavy rain on Tuesday.
10.15am, Hilary drives me up the approach track to Side Farm and then declares that she does'nt want
me to lose that "Wilderness feel" by taking me all the way to my base camp and deposits me half way
despite my earnest pleas that this wont be necessary. After a last hug and kiss to her condemned
brother, she accelerates away in a cloud of dust and squealing tyres.
The farm is completely quiet and my attempts to contact the owner fruitless. By recalling the web
pictures in my mind I decide to walk north along the track closer to Ullswater Lake, to try and identify
the camp site. After 10 minutes my search is concluded successfully and I locate the field. There is only
one other tent and I spend 15minutes walking around to find the best location to pitch avoiding trees
and rough ground. I have a clear view across Ullswater to the quay side at Glenridding with two ferry's
moored alongside. Place fell ascends steeply behind me. I pitch tent, which takes me 1.5 hours (first
time)
The day is clear, sunny and warm!
At 1.15pm I set off for Place Fell with just my day sack and essentials. I ascend southwards up the fell
side to Boredale Hause and am surprised how steep it is. Big bags of stone in black plastic wrappers are Looking East from Place Fell
piled at the bottom to repair the paths. The views west to Brothers Water and Patterdale are great. I get towards Boredale
into a stride pattern of short steps and "pad" upwards.
At Boredale Hause (crossroads) there are five path choices and I select the North East one towards Place
Fell. The climb is very steep and winding and I eventually reach the trig point at 2.30pm. Rest for water
and trail mix. Very few others about, wonderful!
I head off down the fell side and turn NW at the bottom around the old sheepfold and cross the former
slate quarry on towards Scalehow Falls and the edge of Ullswater Lake. As I reach the final descent to
the lake I can just see the falls cascading over the rocks in the distance but it would be difficult to
approach due to the vast amount of bracken and undergrowth so I just take a picture using zoom. The
early evening light is breathtaking and the views equally so across the lake. I reach the lake at
approximately 4pm and take on more water and trail mix. As I do this a rather surreal situation develops
before me. For the first time that afternoon walkers come towards me along the lakeside path. Junior,
teenagers, parents and grandparents from what I can only assume as being a family of orthodox Jews.
The older males have beards, hair wringlets and skull caps. What on earth is going on? They take an
Scalehow Falls
eternity to pass me saying nothing but pass in a single file 8 persons in total. I cant help chuckling out
loud at this whole bizarre sight in a corner of England I least expect them. Its almost like meeting Osama
Bin Laden on a country stroll in the middle of nowhere.
As I head off SW I am approached by another group of walkers and I suddenly feel angry and irritated
that my solitary walk is being spoiled. This group is led by a younger man followed by an assortment of
relatives some of whom are clearly disabled. A woman pushing a man in a wheelchair calls to me hello
and asks how much further it is? I think how much further to where? and answer mischievously that its a
long way still. I immediately regret this as the man at the front turns to the group and says" I'm terribly
sorry we should never have come this way its all my fault" There is a look of desperation in their eyes. I
guiltily rush on.
Return to camp via Silver crag and arrive 5.45pm. There are now 3 more groups, one full of giggling
school girls. Oh god why me?
Cocoa and curry for supper.
Bed 8pm. Can't get warm and at 4am it started to rain hard.
Diary Page 10

11. The Vista from High Dodd across
Lake Ullswater towards Aira Force
Diary Page 11

12. Tuesday 6th October
17 November 2009
09:51
6.10am wake. I've been in my sleeping bag for 10 hours, not all of it sleeping mind you. Turning is a
frustrating manoeuvre often resulting in the side zip of the bag being wrapped around my ear and a
sense of slow strangulation. There is a slight ridge on the ground and although my new "Neoair Therma-
Rest" is very good I have been rolling off the edge to either side of the tent wall. My dreams have been
adversely affected as a result, probably requiring some psychiatric care on my return to London.
I struggle to escape and put my trousers on lying down, an art to be practised in the days to come. I vow
to keep my woolly hat on next night to increase warmth and to avoid the wet condensation feel of the
tent in the morning on my head.
The alpine stove bursts into life (my old reliable friend I love you) and I brew up my cocoa, an immediate
morale raiser, using my new trangia mini kettle. I immediately sense another friend in the making.
Opening my first "lunchlite" bag of freeze dried bacon and potato breakfast I realise that it was designed
for frying not boiling but doggedly continue in need of the calories. The result is a mulch of little taste
and of truly "yuck" immensity.
Its raining hard and I plan a low level walk to Aira Falls 5 miles north of my position on the north west
bank of Ullswater Lake. The cloud is so low there is no point going up high.
0845 Leave camp fully togged up with water proofs and day sack. I head straight for Patterdale Post
Office, where I had spied the previous day, the supply of freshly cooked bacon baps all day. Having
abandoned my own boil in the bag spectacular I felt I deserved a treat. I was not on an SAS survival
course but an expedition of enlightenment! I make friends with Gillian and Tom, the post mistress and
master eagerly, realising my future well being may depend on this relationship. They sense my slight
desperation and offer me a double bacon bap with sweet tea and make cooing noises about the days "Bacon Bap paradise"
ahead and how much I'm going to enjoy myself. Patterdale Post Office
I head off up the A592 and pass St Patricks church, Patterdale and the new Patterdale Mountain Rescue
Centre positioned next to the Fire Station and old Police House. All look extremely well maintained
although the Police house is now private. The Rescue centre is extensive and very modern looking and
was funded by the Sports Foundation. Its many garage doors indicate a range of vehicles and I envisage
something of the Thunderbirds HQ about it all. I find this all very reassuring in my planned
circumstances of assaulting some of the Lakes more demanding fells and crags.
I thread my way through Glenridding and cross the road repeatedly to join the path beside it
overlooking the lake. Its still raining but I begin to relax relishing the smell of rain, autumn leaves and
being alone at last. I feel somewhat unsettled again passing the boat yard where Liz and I had hired a
motor launch during our honeymoon and had zig-zaggged our way across lake Ullswater. Where had 25
years gone and why had things gone so wrong? I knew many of the answers to that immediately. I felt
sad and poignant about the whole situation.
There were several points where I was forced to join the road and became very much aware that I was
fair game to the idiots driving, who saw me as open season sport, to see how close they could pass me
Thunderbirds HQ Prince William with the Team July 2009
at 80mph without launching me skywards and then having to suffer a lot of tedious form filling at the
police station. This in turn pressured me to find alternative routes which inevitably led to boggy ground,
field crossing, barbed wire man traps and countless gate crossings. I loved it all nevertheless! Perhaps I
am an outdoor type after all. So many years traversing Scotland Yard politics and gang psychology had
temporarily dismembered my natural instincts for the wilderness. Oh Ray Mears how lucky are you!
At 1140 I eventually arrive after 2 hours walking. I feel dry, comfortable and fit. My walking boots are
fantastic and there are no blister hotspots at all.
Aira Force is managed by the National Trust and as expected things are well organised and well Aira Force on a Quiet Day
designed. The routes to the falls are over prepared but understandably so due to the number of disabled
people visiting. Its very different from my last visit 25years ago when things were a bit more wild. I
climbed the numerous timber stairs with high expectation of the falls being in full spate due to the
heavy rainfall. My expectations were amply fulfilled and Aira Force was a roaring plume of water
deafening and magnificent falling 100feet into the narrow granite gorge.
I trudged up the side and marvelled at the numerous tributaries and inlets all of which funnel into
narrow gorges of plated granite 2-4 ft apart and up to 30ft deep. I made High Force a mile further up,
which was a much wider expanse of waterways cascading downwards. I sat at the side on a stone and
refuelled with grapefruit flavoured water and trail mix. The view was magnificent, only spoilt by the
numerous visitors on either side ,crowding out what would otherwise have been a scene fit for
Wordsworth to describe.
I moved slowly down the gorge filling my senses and enjoying the views, sounds and smells. Passing via
one of the many bridges to the other bank I manage to avoid most people and get space on my own.
The bridges are interesting in themselves, one dedicated to a younger brother killed in the first world
war.
On reaching the main gate I realise I've missed an opportunity of a circular route vide Dockray village, a Aira Force Video Diary
further mile up from high force, where there is a recommended pub. Oh well..................................
I cross the road and walk down to Aira Beck's exit into Ullswater. The afternoon ferry to Pooley Bridge is
passing. It looks sleek and elegant. A party of ducklings with mum swim out, seemingly to meet it. I'm on Lake District Lake District
my own again and all is well! Expedition... Expedition...
My return to Patterdale is much faster as I trot down the sections of road I avoided earlier. My tactics
are far more brutal this time and I take up a position in the middle of the road where there is no ignoring
me. I practice a rather forced grin and pretend to be an escaped lunatic. This has the desired effect and
cars are forced around me, many quickly closing their automated windows and putting on their hazard
lights. Oh what fun. I laugh until I cry!
Glenridding to Pooley Bridge Steam Ferry
On one section below the road I come across a party of about 30 Kendal Mountain Rescue bearded "who says the age of romantic travel is dead"
beasties practising abseiling on the short cliffs. All in red kit. I give them a cheery hello and mutter under
my breath "might see you later in the week"
I arrive back in Patterdale at 4.50pm (1hour 10 min) and head for the Hotel happy and fit albeit covered
in wet clothing and equipment. Treat myself to a pint of Tilleys "old faithful" and a bar meal of burger
Diary Page 12

13. and chips. Fantastic. Rang Hilary to assure her I was still alive and living modestly off slugs and rain
water.
Back to camp and lights out 7pm.
Diary Page 13

14. Wednesday 7th October
17 November 2009
12:23
6am awake and up in the dark. Feeling fit and well. Back stiff but hey, I've lived with that for 18 years. Area of Operations Day 3
Just get rocking and rolling. Before opening up the tent I can feel that there has been a massive drop in
temperature and that it has stopped raining.
At 3 am there had been a visitor to the tent. Heavy breathing and rustling sounds just beside the
ventilation flap above my head. Unfortunately I knew it wasn't Beyonze fatally attracted to my
wilderness aroma but some other less attractive creature probably a fox or badger. Lying there in the
darkness hearing and sensing this is always a bit unnerving. You feel exposed as you cant get out of your
bag and tent quickly to chase "it" off. The only thing you can do is shout or blow your whistle. Something
I had done in the Brecon Beacons camping with my son to hilarious effect as he thought I was being
murdered and thrashed about furiously until I explained what I was doing and calmed him down by
offering him several swigs of whisky from my hip flask.
Night Visitor Chief Suspect - Looks Nothing like Beyonze
except for a big......!
The night had been quite noisy with the geese on Ullswater having had an all night party and the owls
calling to each other ,interspersed with the hourly chime of Glenridding clock tower. I was getting used
to this natural cacophony but was still aware of it as I rested.
The Barnacle Goose - "Wild Night-time Party Animal"
I got out of the tent and my head torch displayed a layer of frost on the ground. I switched off and
looked up to a sky emblazoned with thousands of stars. It was crystal clear and the light of a 3/4 Moon
cut down. I watched entranced. The eastern horizon dominated by Glenridding Dodd was gradually
illuminated by the dawn light. As I watched, a sudden shooting star flashed across Birkhouse Moor.
Magical.
Drinking my cocoa I watched the early morning trans- atlantic flights turn towards London and realised
Lockerbie was very close to the north . Their vapour trails crossed the sky one after another. The sun
rose behind me and all the autumnal glory of the fells and crags was revealed. Hues of brown, red and
green. Fantastic. God it feels good standing here!
Big day today. Long trek up onto the old Roman Road of High Street and a high level overnight bivvy
without any tent. The weather was going to be sunny and clear. Perfect.
I loaded my Rucksack with sleeping bag, mat, weather proofs, Stove, food, tarp and bivvy bag. Feels
heavy but well balanced. Head out of base camp 0845hrs via Patterdale and the Goldrill Beck Bridge up
The old Roman road now called High Street connected the two forts at Penrith and Ambleside.
to Boredale Hause. Slow padding walk getting into a rhythm. Legs feel very strong and all the gym work
Built in approximately 100AD, it crossed very boggy ground in parts but avoided the heavily
seems to have paid off. Very few people about, perhaps my cunning plan of visiting during school term,
forested valleys at the time by being positioned high up on the connecting fell ridges. Below is a
low season and mid week is paying off.
cross section of the building technique, the shadow of its course on Race Course Hill and one of
the wagon types used at the time.
I traverse across the fells from Boredale to Angle Tarn slowly treking my way around the narrow paths
high up overlooking Brothers water (so named after two brothers who drowned there in 1860) and past
the two stumpy Angle Pikes arriving at Angle Tarn shortly after. Its large with three distinct islands (not
all shown on the OS map)and a peninsular jutting out from the north side. There are a lot of people
walking around its edge or picknicking at the side . Just what I didnt want to find! I move quickly on and
pad towards Satura crag, stopping for a refuel hidden behind a hillock beside the dry stone wall
overlooking Bannerdale.
As I sit there I'm struck by two major factors one positive and the other negative. As always I'll start with
the bad news. During my brief stop of 20-30mins about 20 walkers pass my unnoticed position in groups
of between 2-6 every 5 minutes. They are of various ages and nationalities almost all with those damned
ubiquitous telescopic sticks you see festooned across outdoor equipment stores. Some with one and
many with two. I'm sitting on the hard shoulder of the M1 of the far Eastern Fells and I don't like it! I
came here for a solitary walk of self re-discovery. Where the hell are all these people coming from. Don't
they have jobs to go to. This is not the summer season when I would expect these numbers. I can hear
the approaching "clickety clack" of their walking sticks, like blind people moving forward on an urban
street. Wainwright promised me solitary wilderness in this area. His popularity has magnetically
attracted people to this route spoiling the experience in just the way he would not have wished.
The second factor was the spectacle before me of mile after mile of dry stone wall stretching across the
head of the crag and down into Bannerdale valley. Who had done this, why and how long had it taken?
The sheer enormity of the venture was humbling, getting such quantities of stone into position on this
difficult terrain. I vowed to research this on my return to London.
Most of the main walls in the high fells had been erected by 1850 as a My view from Satura Crag down into Bannerdale.
consequence of the various Enclosure Acts of the 18th and 19th Note the long stretches of dry stone walls
centuries. These empowered certain landowners to create a boundary
around their claimed land against the previous common land grazing
rights of all the locals . Gangs of unemployed miners were often used to
build the walls.
I continue on and the going gets very tough approaching the Knott. A very rough zig zag ascent with lots
of sticky bog in the dips. Eventually I reach High Street overlooking Riggindale Beck and Haweswater in
the distance. I watch two Red Deer stags fighting just below me rutting with their antlers. They must be
part of the Martindale herd which is the oldest in England.
Diary Page 14

15. part of the Martindale herd which is the oldest in England.
I can see the distinctive Riggindale Crag leading up from Haweswater. Waignwright describes it as a
"connoisseurs" route onto High Street. This as I was to discover in the days ahead was code for hell.
Rough climbing, sapping your soul and entire body!
Riggindale Crag. The "connoisseurs" route up to High Street
I kept a sharp eye out for the Golden Eagle, as this was the area in which one of the few UK breeding from Haweswater reservoir
pairs remained. I carried on up the deceptively steep slope to the cairn and trig point of Racecourse Hill
2,800 ft up. The wind was cold and bracing as I admired the thought of past dales folk racing their horses
on this ground 200 years previously, in the annual festival. I sat behind the wall at the top sheltering
from the westerly wind and refuelled. The numbers of people passing was relentless. Its 4pm and I
decide to head towards Wether Hill on the Roman Road and find a spot for my bivvy. This would allow
me a route back to base camp via Martindale and Beda fell the next day.
As soon as I crossed onto Rampsgill Head the number of people fell away dramatically and I began to
enjoy myself. I then started a long weary walk north past High Raise and Red Crag. The ground was very
boggy and peat banks were all around. However, I was alone in the dwindling light and felt exalted
looking down into Rampsgill valley. I could see smoke rising from the red roofs of "The Bungalow" and
imagined the deer herdsman stoking the fire. I could hear the sky larks above and my steps surprised
one particular bird from the marshy ground which l thought could have been a snipe. I began to move The Golden Eagle, Riggindale. The Manchester Water
west off the Roman Road which was becoming increasingly boggy and followed the fence bordering the Authority are attempting to introduce another breeding
pair.
deer park and then the dry stone wall. I had been walking almost continuously for 9 hours over rough
ascending ground with about 25Kg. I was "cream crackered" and felt very concerned that the ground
was totally unsuitable for a bivvy. Then I saw a possible opportunity, an opening in the wall where an old
gateway had been with a small grassy bank beside it. It was perfect almost preordained.
Snipe spotted and confirmed
identification. Not to be confused
With Snape from Hogwarts
I set up the tarp on the diagonal to the wall and pinned one side under the top stones of the wall and
the other pegged to the ground, forming a shelter underneath. I unrolled my bivvy bag and inflated my
neoair which I placed inside the bag together with my sleeping bag. I suspected it was going to be a cold
night and put my neck warmer and extra fleece on. I pulled my hat down and my neck warmer up so
only my eyes were exposed. In the failing light I donned my head torch and assembled my stove and had
a brew and meal. The air was still, very cold and the sky clear. The long grasses around me wafted gently
and there was almost complete silence apart from the baying deer stags below me. What was more an
almost perfect sunset cast a rich light across the distant peaks. I stood there feeling a sense of oneness
with all around me, something I had not experienced since childhood. Its hard to describe but I felt at
peace, perfectly relaxed and not at all afraid in my solitude.
I got into my bivvy without difficulty using my rucksack as a partial pillow and pulled the cord up. I could
stretch out without difficulty and felt very warm and cosy. My only concern was my bottom half which
was sticking out into the gateway and uncovered by the tarp. Any passing deer stag could have trampled
High altitude bivvy, Wether Hill.
me or pinned me with its antlers "A bivvy on a barbecue stick". I was so tired I didn't care and felt
Pyjamas and night cap.
reasonably secure.
I watched the dwindling light across the Helvellyn range to the west and followed the progress of a large
Sea King Rescue helicopter between the peaks. Perhaps some poor bastard hadn't had such a good day
as me and the mountain rescue boys were in full swing.
At about 7.30pm I fell asleep more comfortable and content than I had been all week. I could feel the
cold air on my face and see the distant mountain shadows. All is well. This is why I had retired from the
police, a pressing need to reconnect with mother earth!
Diary Page 15

16. Thursday 8th October
19 November 2009
10:19
At Midnight I awoke. There was a blaze of white light around me and feeling somewhat startled I peered
out. Not to worry, the Moon was throwing down its stage lights on the set around me and what a set!
The fells were lit up with heavy shadow in part and sparkling crystals from the forming frost shone out
like countless jewels. I estimated that it was about -2celsius. Above was a perfect carpet of stars. Believe
me I felt very humbled and moved by the whole experience. Tears welled up and I felt a deep sense of
being truly alive for the first time ever!
I eventually fell asleep again but was awoken at 3am by the sound of very heavy rain on the tarp above
my head and a growing wind which was pulling at the anchor points. All remained secure and I fell
asleep again.
At 7am I woke up feeling very refreshed and rested despite the nights interruptions. The wind was
blowing cold and hard from the west and low cloud shrouded parts of the valley below me. It took me
30mins to boil the water in my kettle and I had to build a shelter around the stove. What's more, the gas
canister froze fast to the stone it was sitting on.
I gathered my kit together and took the tarp down in a brief shower of cold spiked rain. The tarp had
developed a small hole in the corner where it had been pinned with the stone.
I truly didn't want to leave this place and felt I could have stayed in that spot for several days and nights Area of Operations Day 4
in an affinity with the elements.
At 9am I donned full kit with waterproofs and set out north westwards towards Martindale via Gowk
hill . I was completely on my own and revelled in my solitude. I marvelled again at the vast expanse of
dry stone wall and noted the derelict shepherds shelter Wainwright had mapped in his books. I
wondered when the last time it had been in use and the life of a shepherd in the centuries before me.
Could I have been happy doing this sort of work. I suspected that I could have been, perhaps with some
seasonal variations and a damned good woman to go home to.
I wound my way towards Martindale with a slight detour to the overlooking Steel Knots where I
encountered my first people of the day. I tried to be polite but wished they would all bugger off! A
lifetime of working with people and seeing humanities worst degradations had eventually caught up
with me. Perhaps I would be better off in the Canadian Wilderness as the new Grey Owl.
I descended to Martindale taking a short cut down the fell side through thick bracken. My knees were
beginning to scream at me on the descents and my progress slowed considerably. I rejoined the main
path and was overtaken by an elderly couple who gave me a cheery hello and asked whether I was OK. I
answered that the knees were complaining and they replied " Oh the joints the joints!" in something of
a jolly ode like delivery. I'm not joking, these two had the legs of athletes and were supremely fit. We
had a brief chat and I discovered they were 70 and 75 respectively. They moved off ahead of me and
soon were out of sight. There is hope for all of us and I found these two a bit inspirational, particularly as
they were NOT using those damned telescopic sticks! I hobbled after them feeling distinctly inferior.
Moon Light over the Cumbrian Mountains
This is the form of light I experienced - Breathtaking
I reached Martindale at about 1130 and had a good look at the village church of St Martin. It was small
and compact with a simple Methodist feel about it. Just what I liked. There had been a church on this
site for over a thousand years and the current one had been built during Elizabeth I reign. The Yew tree
in its grounds was about 1300 years old. There was one service a month now run by one of those new
type travelling vicars with 20 parishes. The church looked remarkably well maintained and I mused on
many things. Why here? Well, I suppose it may have served the mining population as well as the village
and it was now well maintained due to the number of visitors donating. My research revealed a similar
degree of well being in these small chapels throughout the lakes. One benefit of all these blasted people
I suppose! I sat outside and refuelled. The day was now sunny and clear. I could live here if it was just a
"tadge" more remote.
At 1215 I set off again towards Beda Fell passing several farms and a kennels which I guessed was the
Martindale Fox Hound pack. I was disappointed to note on passing the gateway to the Bungalow whose
smoke I had seen the previous evening that it was NOT the Deer Herdsman's but was a holiday let. Oh
God not more tourism.
I stripped down anticipating the hard slog up to Boredale Hause and joined the track at Dale Head
enjoying the sight of a small group of young red deer on the fell side close by. Beda Fell was a slog but
my ascents were very strong and my knees briefly stopped hurting. I noted the tracks of Mountain
bikers on the path and had to admire their tenacity and fitness. If I had the opportunity again I would The Elizabethan Church of St Martin, Martindale
have diverted via Heck Crag past the old settlement up to Angle Tarn but I was committed before I knew
it . I reached Boredale Hause and rested with some trepidation about the last descent to Side Farm and
the state of my knees. I edged off and padded down the fell side trying to even the weight between both
legs acting as a brake. My knees were screaming but didn't give way as I feared. I hobbled into base
camp at 3.10pm
I spent the rest of the afternoon having a slow shower, tending cuts and bruises, kit drying and
preparing a meal. I spread my bivvy and tarp out on the grass in the evening sunshine and stretched out.
My evening entertainment arrived shortly after with a young couple in a large 4x4 with trailer, who
commenced setting up camp on a spot ahead of me. I'm not exaggerating but it took them over 3 hours
to assemble what can only be described as an earth bound equivalent of the international space station.
The tent kept expanding with multiple tunnels like a Tomato plantation. The bed was erected using an
air compressor on the car, and was of gargantuan proportions. I wondered whether the couple were
going to move from one compartment to another, like the winter palace, throughout their stay. You
could have fitted about 30 people into the tent. Next came the inflatable sofa and chairs then the
Gazebo, cooking range and lastly various wines and candles (you know the ones on stands you get at
Shakespearean plays in Regents Park open air theatre) I watched in eager anticipation of the inflatable
The West Wing of the "Camp Spectacular"
plasma TV being erected and fell about in fits of hysterical laughter.
I fell asleep at 7pm and was vaguely aware of three sets of owls across the valley competing with each
other using increasingly flamboyant calls, one seemingly off key.
I awoke at 7am the next day!
Diary Page 16

17. Friday 9th October
19 November 2009
12:12
7am up and got a brew on. Noticed Mountain Rescue vehicles parked in Glenridding opposite with
emergency lights flashing. Another wayward soul being sought on the Helvellyn fells. Dangerous place
this!
My right knee was very painful and I could only move it slowly. I rubbed in vast quantities of Juniper
cream which helped. No other part of my body was sore or stiff which I thought was amazing
considering the distance and terrain I had covered the previous 2 days. I was obviously much fitter than I
thought. I suspected the knee problem was a cartilage tear due to the steep descent braking with a full
pack. My other knee had had all the cartilage removed after an RTA in 1985 and had settled down
overnight. I sent a text to my Trainer John bollocking him for missing this preparatory area of fitness. He
replied "sorry" and informed me his hourly rate had gone up!
I decided that it would be prudent to have a rest day of sorts and planned a day of note completion,
Cumbrian ale and a trip up Ullswater to Pooley Bridge in one of those very sleek looking ferries.
8am walked up the track to Patterdale. I was ambushed by a very fine looking Guernsey herd of cows Area of Operations Day 5
spread across my way, including a very large bull. There seemed to be a lot of high value herds wherever
I walked and mused whether the farmers had had a big compensation payout after the Foot and Mouth
outbreak of 2001 which I knew had hit Cumbria very hard. As I crossed the Goldrill Beck bridge I caught
sight of a very unusual looking bird in the trees beside. It had a bright yellow head with black flecks and
a brown body with black stripes. It had a long tail with squared off feathers. Another piece of research.
I pulled into the bar of the Patterdale Hotel at 9.55am and startled the barman tidying up from the night
before. " A pint of old faithful please" He replied "I cant serve you until 11am". I asked him to check his
licence as the hotel hoardings clearly indicated otherwise. He disappeared off into the Hotel archive
section and came back somewhat defeated duly pulling me a pint.
After delivering my post cards direct to the "postie" outside the hotel I walked up to Glenridding Ferry
Quayside stopping off on the way at the National Parks office to try and identify the birds I had seen at The Yellow Hammer - Identified after research. Graded Red Endangered by RSPB
Wether Hill and Goldrill Beck. This caused much merriment when I referred to the first bird as a possible
Snape sighting. The young bearded assistant looked at me mischievously and told me Snape had never
been sighted this far from Hogwarts and it didn't bode well. I took it in my stride and roared
appreciatively at my faux pas. After an extensive look at the bird books and on line I was however no
further on in identifying the little blighters.
The ever majestic Lake Ullswater slipping
away behind us.
I walked across the road and just caught the 1.45pm ferry to Pooley Bridge. I travelled on TheLady of the
Lakes, which had been re-launched by Willie Whitelaw in 1979 after a fire. It was a beautiful boat, clean
shining veneered woodwork and sleek lines. It was freezing cold and I was glad to have brought a lot of
outdoor clothing. I wrapped up and stayed on deck to marvel at the landscape on both sides. There
were about 10 other passengers but this was soon to change at our one and only stop at Howtown.
About 60 young people wearing nothing but T shirts and trousers got on board evidently having finished
an outdoor training course with the Outward Bound Trust. They were made up of youngsters from
Blackpool 6th Form College and BAE Systems. They obviously hadn't learnt anything about dressing
appropriately for the weather and they all sat on deck shivering, thinking this was the macho thing to
do. Oh dear. As we left Howtown an older walker rushed up the quay and shouted to the crew that he
had a train to catch and must get on board. He attempted to jump the 10foot gap before being
dissuaded and the ferry pulled back in to avoid an incident. Human behaviour never ceases to amaze
and amuse me.
As I watched from the upper deck I could see many of the spots I had walked down in the previous
week; Aira Gill, Martindale, Wether Hill and Scalehow falls. The sky was cloudy but majestic and the lake
looked wonderful. I had a short chat with the helmsman who told me that people often tried to jump on
board and they were petrified of being sued if they encouraged it at all. The ferry service was year round
except Christmas day, and they had just had a very busy season, only yesterday having taken 100
passengers on this particular service.
My life and other humans
We arrived in Pooley Bridge at 2.45 and I walked into the village which was very toursisty with poor
souvenir shops except the Ullswater Steam Ferry Shop which was excellent. I had a steak and a pint of
Hartley's cask ale in the local and then walked slowly back to the Quay, again startled by the sheer
numbers of people about on a low season Friday. My journey back was uneventful on the 4.55pm ferry
and I stayed on deck again in a bitter SW wind. I walked back to camp at 6pm in heavy rain. Both knees
were painful particularly the right one. I had made the right decision to rest.
I had a bad night with a neighbouring couple having a deep philosophical conversation until 2am. Why
cant people have noisy sex and then just go to sleep. I could accept that. The heavy rain forced me to
use the porch twice as a latrine. Blast the cask ale drinking of the previous day. Kneeling and peeing to
avoid all utensils and food supplies is no mean feat.
Diary Page 17

18. Saturday 10th October
22 November 2009
10:51
Awoke at 5.30 and was pleased to note that the rain had stopped. I got a brew going in the porch and
looked out of the tent to a clear star covered sky and the light of a half moon.
It took me 1.5hrs to pack my kit and tent and then I tottered off at 8.30am to the Patterdale Post Office
and had a chat to Gillian and a very welcome double bacon bap. I sat and ate this on the bench opposite
and watched the hoards of walkers arrive, all seemingly hell bent on climbing Helvellyn on a clear sunny
day. Goodness knows what its like in high season. The roads and car park soon filled up with parked
vehicles and the "clickity clack" of you know what!
The 108 Bus was very prompt and I sat back for my £4.60p ride to Penrith Railway Station which took 50
mins. I then caught the 1124 Birmingham New Street Virgin Train calling at Warrington. The train was
packed. I firmly pondered the rapidly emerging population crisis in the UK which all my antennae had
already sensed both in London and now in the Lakes. In such a small island the numbers of people were
in danger of overwhelming the infrastructure and spoiling the enjoyment of hitherto unique areas of
countryside. What was to be done?
Met by David and back to Lymm to sort kit, R&R and CBS (cuts, bruises and swellings)
Looking a bit rough after the first week
Diary Page 18

19. Monday 12th October
22 November 2009
11:26
Set off 7.20am. Driven by Hilary using a different route via Kendal and Windermere, up the Kirkstone
Pass. Arrived 9.10am (97 miles vs 117 via Penrith). Clear sunny day, no wind.
Set up base camp in Patterdale within 1hr. Its getting quicker each time.
Due to the weather conditions I set off for Helvellyn at 11.45am intending to take the classic route of
Hole in the wall, Striding edge and then back down Swirral Edge. This would need a certain degree of
scrambling and care over my route.
I walked up the Grisedale Lane towards the Grisedale Beck crossing, with the beck roaring beside me on
the right down in the gorge. It was quiet, no people just the sound of the trees and beck. Bliss. I padded
on up the steep slope and stopped at the bridge to spy out my route up Birkhouse Moor to the Hole in
the wall at the top. I could see the faint line of the track ascending to the heavens and prepared myself
for another slog.
As I started my climb another quirky situation developed. At about 1230 a man looking like a commuter
with smart open necked shirt, slacks and ordinary shoes passed me. He was holding a brief case. He Area of Operations Day 6
looked like a tax inspector, aged about 40, clean shaven, lean and fit. He rushed past me with the
comment "Got to catch a bus" I, thinking he was throwing some good old Cumbrian humour at me
replied "What, to Piccadilly Circus?" He said " No I've got to get back for the 2.10pm to Penrith" I let this
pass thinking "shit thats quick. How is he going to get to Helvellyn and back in that time. Is he on his
lunch break and doing a bit of fitness training? or is he just another mad Englishmen".
He rattled on up the fell side at an incredible pace and I felt somewhat inferior again, until my next
encounter with him later in the afternoon.
The views were breathtaking up the valley but I had to keep my eye on the track as there were many
deep gullies and other foot snares for the unwary. I did however feel fit and my knees were not hurting
at all on the ascent. There was no other person about at all, and I thought, at last, I have found the
solitude I craved and everyone's gone back to work. I reached the break in the dry stone wall at about
1.45pm and before me was a very unwelcome sight.
Like aircraft stacked above Heathrow there were about 15 young walkers (20-30yrs old) grouped at the
top waiting for landing instructions from the Helvellyn control tower. Looking ahead was striding Edge
with a thin stream of walkers along its length like a multi coloured column of ants. This is where the
nations unemployed were on a Monday afternoon in October! Either that or there were an awful lot of
young people pulling a "sickie".
The ridge however looked spectacular and rugged in the bright light and below lay the wide expanse of
Red Tarn in the hollow, its water looking Mediterranean blue. There was nobody around it or camped so
that was a small blessing at least.
I rearranged my kit putting on a fleece and hat and packing away my map case in anticipation of some
slow tricky scrambling. I took my place on the approaches of Bleaberry crag and refuelled with a piece of
my sisters excellent flapjack she had prepared the previous Sunday. As I did so a large blue commercial
helicopter approached Striding Edge and hovered overhead. It was so close my concern was its down
draft dislodging some of the climbers below. I discovered that it was the Great North Helicopter
Ambulance, training due to the fine weather. This was closely followed by a glider crossing from the
west. My jibe earlier about Piccadilly Circus was not far off the mark at all. I now half expected a
Lucianis ice cream van to be selling cornets at the summit.
Just at that moment the "Tax Inspector" I had spoken too earlier appeared just below me at about 2.15
and he recognised me and said" I'm getting too old for this sort of thing I'm going back" I replied " I'm
afraid you've missed your bus". He looked crestfallen and slunk off. Inwardly I cheered and mumbled to
myself " Ah blown yourself out have you. I'm still going with plenty in the tank!" A self satisfied grin
stretched across my face.
I crossed Striding edge with relative ease, walking across the uppermost crest, climbing two chimney The author on Striding Edge with the
sections and completing a short dangerous traverse. After ascending the final slopes of scree, I reached Gough memorial stone at the summit
the summit at 3pm. After all my concerns about vertigo I surmised that this was not a problem in open & Red Tarn below
spaces and my fears were more focussed on lift shafts and bridges in more confined surroundings.
However many Die Hard movies I watched, I couldn't get used to this scenario, after having been
involved in some hairy rescue situations during my police career.
I walked up to the Gough memorial stone in a cloud of midges and stood quietly transfixed by the story
before me of Thomas Gough whose body was found in 1805 at that spot. He had evidently fallen or
been hit on the head by falling rock but had managed to reach the summit mortally wounded. There he
died and he lay watched over by his loyal and loving pet dog. The body and still watching dog were
discovered 3 months later!
After taking in the distant views to NSEW I walked down to the start of Swirral edge and enjoyed 30
minutes of scrambling and then a walk on the north side of Red Tarn to the Hole -in the wall. Here I
varied my route and descended Birkhouse Moor to Glenridding via Mires Beck. The descent went on and
on zigzagging its way down the fells. My knees were ok as I had a support bandage on the right one and
the left was only grumbling. However, I regretted not going back the way I had come as the route was
tedious and stony. I wound my way past the old slate mine, the YHA centre, upper and lower
Glenridding and finally back to Patterdale at 6.45 after almost 3 hours. It had taken me 2 hours to
ascend.
Lights out 7.30pm feeling very weary. Immediately fell asleep.
Diary Page 19

20. Tuesday 13th October
23 November 2009
11:03
Up at 7am. Flapjack and cocoa. Sunny, good visibility and no wind.
I plan a serious days scrambling in an area which I hope will be devoid of people. I'm going to climb
Nethermost Pike via the East ridge, approaching from the Grisedale Beck side. There are no paths and
the area is covered in steep crags and bracken. This is an outward distance of 5 miles rising 2,500 feet
from my current position.
I set off late at 10am having been very careful over equipment selection and weight. I followed the same
route as the previous day except rather than ascending to the Hole -in-the wall, I remained on the valley
floor, beside the beck, working my way up the north side. No one in sight, clear and sunny. Bliss.
Another herd of exotic looking cows were grouped in a field to the left on Braesteads Farm. They were
squat, plump and all black except for a very distinctive broad pinkish loop around the midrift .
The Belted Galloway - Dates Back to Charles II. Very Hardy
Upland Breed. Low fat meat & high quality milk.
Becoming popular again.
I reached the main footbridge over the Beck below Nethermost at 1225 and surveyed the way up for
suitable routes. The Pike looked daunting with large areas of dark craggy cliffs at two levels with a small
plateau midway. The fell side below was covered in thick bracken split in the middle by the fast running
Nethermost Cove Beck which fell towards me over cascading waterfalls to join the Grisedale Beck. My
route was further barred by a very high dry stone wall cutting across from east to west. Still no one in
sight.
I stowed my map and outer clothes, refuelled and set off up the mountainside. I estimated that the
entire ascent would take 2 hours. I crossed the wall easily using the through stones as a ladder and
eventually found a sheep track through the bracken up the fell side towards a likely looking crossing
point on the beck. The water channels were deep and fast flowing and I hopped across protruding
stones easily until I made the mistake of stepping onto a dark area of one stone which appeared dry. It
was however covered in algae which was like ice and I slid off into the water and thumped down onto
my backside with water up to my knees. A mistake I was careful to avoid again over future days. I got up
somewhat bruised and continued up opting for the left channel up the crag where there appeared to be
more footholds. I zigzagged my way slowly, painfully aware that I was on my own and couldn't afford to Nethermost Pike - A Glorious Day's Scrambling
make any more mistakes. The pictures show the whole pike on the left and a close up of the last section
I reached the plateau at 1.30pm and was presented with an interesting sight of disused mine houses and
discarded mounds of stone. In the middle of this area was a protruding smooth rock face with a vertical
slit down the middle. I came up close and discovered that the gap was about 2 foot across and beyond
was a void. I could just make out a shelf below some 300 feet below and stepped back quickly realising
the danger. My later research revealed this was a natural feature called a calf hole, often indicating an
entrance to a cave system below. I hadn't got the right equipment or experience to explore this so I
moved on.
The Plateau containing the old mine, outbuildings
I reached the second set of crags leading up to the east ridge and slowly ascended with frequent stops and Calf's Hole entrance
to take photos and video footage. I could see Hard Tarn below me on the south side which was
eloquently described by Waignwright, who noted the passage of a newt swimming around its edge in
1962. Thick cloud was coming across from the west which made for a dramatic scene around me and I
revelled in my solitude at this wild high spot. This was clearly going to be one of my best days so far!
At 3pm I reached the top after 2.5 hours climbing and scrambling and in the gathering cloud mist took a
compass bearing towards Dollywagon Pike, which I renamed Dolly Parton. My bearing became crucial
with the enveloping cloud, but my compass work did not let me down and I reached this shortly after
without mishap.
Video Diary
In the mist I could unfortunately make out the voices of several people and as I joined the good descent
path to Grisedale Tarn was dismayed that I was on another of the Lakes motorway systems with several
groups of walkers behind and in front. Just before starting the descent I noticed a rather interesting
metallic structure in the ground. It was triangular in shape with a supporting strut and pineapple shaped Lake District Lake District
crown to the top. It looked victorian and I surmised that it was a type of trig point with the Expedition... Expedition...
perpendicular side pointing north. I checked my compass and noted that it was about 10 -15 degrees off
north but magnetic variation each year could account for this discrepancy. Another bit of research to do.
I descended the path and at 4.20pm near the bottom a break in the clouds revealed a very dramatic
view of the Tarn, which was large and eerily surrounded in tumbling banks of mist. There were several
young people grouped around 5 tents on its Eastern shores. I quickly moved on down the valley NE
The old Victorian Trig Point
arriving at the bottom at 5.20pm. I then took the south bank of the Grisedale Beck and walked beside
Dollywagon Pike Summit
the waterfalls. Several birds were hovering over the bright red berried Rowan trees. They were sparrow
sized and almost black in colour with a white flash marking on their backs. Their calls were shrill, short
and continuous.
Passing beside woodland in the Grisedale valley I recced a possible low level bivvy position for the
following night. I wanted to experience a contrasting location to my earlier camp, this time in woodland.
There seemed to be plenty of possible locations behind a high dry stone wall, which offered shelter from
the wind.
I reached base camp at 6.45pm after almost 9 hours of walking and climbing
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21. Wednesday 14th October
23 November 2009
12:14
Up 6.15am. Not a good night. Couldn't get comfortable. The Geese had been having another all night
party on the lake and by the sound of it a big fight at closing time.
I spent the morning preparing for that nights bivvy and a long days walking the following. I decided not
to take the tarp as there would be a certain amount of shelter from the trees and I wanted to get the
weight down with reduced pressure on my shoulders. I was also inquisitive about the true protective
nature of the Gore-Tex bag.
I wrote up my notes, rested my knees and had a long siesta in my tent watching the Lady of the Lakes
ferry leave Glenridding on its 1.45pm service up to Pooley Bridge. I counted about 60 people on the
upper deck through my binoculars, so another good day for Ullswater Steam Ferries in the supposed low
season.
I left camp at 3pm under low cloud with positively balmy temperatures and headed back up Grisedale
Lane into the Grisedale valley. I arrived at the Grisedale Plantation woods at 4.15pm and reconnoitred
the dry stone wall I had seen the previous day. I wanted a spot where there was good shelter from the
westerly's and I was hidden from view. I needed level, well drained ground that was not stony. I chose
an area of slightly raised ground behind the wall that formed a type of platform from which I could
observe the wood. It was under an oak tree.
Unpacking I put a brew of cocoa on and arranged my equipment, using a moss covered rock beside me
as a form of bedside table. I then walked out in all directions making sure I could not be seen from the
path or the edges of the wood. Taking off or hiding any coloured clothing I then arranged my bivvy into a
seat so I could dangle my legs over the step's edge and be camouflaged as much as possible. I then sat
back with my mug of cocoa, flap jack and soaked up the atmosphere.
My Bivvy - Goretex Army Grade 1 bag with
Neo air Therma-Rest mat and sleeping Bag inside.
Note the bed side table rock
The wood before me was mixed deciduous and pine. There was a clear aroma of pine and foliage with a
slightly soporific feel of being swathed in a warm blanket. There was no wind whatsoever and you could
have heard a pin drop. The stilled hush was broken occasionally by the deep croak of passing crows
flying across overhead and the gentle swish of falling leaves hitting the ground. Nothing else.
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22. The Carrion Crow - Clever and fearless. I watched them frequently enjoying the thermals at the
highest points and soaring as well as any bird of prey.
After about 15minutes I became aware of a slight movement in a tree before me and reached for my
binoculars. To my complete amazement I got a focussed view of no less than a large adult red squirrel
foraging in the canopy. It had a big bushy tail with a black tip which it was using as a counterbalance. To
my further amazement it moved closer and closer to my position until it was in the oak tree above me
and then it climbed down and sat looking at me about 4feet away. It seemed completely unfazed by my
presence and I half expected it to require a ticket from me for viewing rights or to open negotiations for
some of my trail mix which contained large quantities of hazel nuts. The smell of these had probably
attracted it, either that or the smell of my sisters flapjack. Whatever reason I was looking at the first Red
Squirrel I had seen in 25 years since Loch Garten in Scotland and it was 4 feet away looking at me. Its
body and head looked much more fragile than the grey squirrel but the colouring was exquisite. It
eventually hopped away and continued its search before dusk. In total I watched it for 1 hour with an
uninterrupted view.
Next came a wren sitting right beside me on the wall above my head, hopping to and fro with a shrill
chirrup call for about 10 minutes.
At 7pm in the growing dark I got into my bivvy bag and just lay in complete comfort listening to the
woods sounds. I felt elated and at complete peace with my surroundings as I had at Wether Hill the
previous week. The atmosphere though was in complete contrast, being at low level, warm, enclosed
and quiet. The emotions I felt were very strong for some reason and the tears welled again. My notes
read " I felt happy at long last, as though I was at complete one with my surroundings, in effect I had
come home" Strange that being 400 miles from my flat in London. I had a real sense that I could have
stayed there quite happily and lived out my days. Quite extraordinary.
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23. stayed there quite happily and lived out my days. Quite extraordinary.
At 7.30pm the silence was rudely broken by the spine chilling short bark of a dog fox beside me, behind
the wall on the path. It ran west along the edge of the wood and then around the other side with short
choked off screams as it went. A very eerie sound but I couldn't help smiling as I was getting the full
repertoire of woodland animals. It faded into the distance and it then began to drizzle heavily with rain.
It hit my face but I relished its feel on my skin as the rest of me felt warm and snug in the bivvy. I fell
asleep with the water dripping off my nose.
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24. Thursday 15th October
25 November 2009
11:03
My slumbers were suddenly rendered at 4.15am when an owl directly above me on a low branch started
an earnest morning's revele of screeching. This took many forms of short and long blasts but with no
soothing hooting sounds in between. "My territory, what the hell are you doing here type of thing!" I
could see its shape above me but could not see whether it was a tawny or barn owl, probably the
former. It was literally about 4-5 feet away and my concern was one of those nuclear explosion like owl
deposits, as a final passing shot, straight down onto my position. It eventually flew off without a sound
from its flapping wings. It was a clear demonstration of its deadly stealth qualities.
Night Time Visitor - Bless
Him
Area of Operations Day 9
At 7am I awoke and packed up feeling really sad that I was leaving. I left eleven hazel nuts on a rock
further into the woods as a gesture of goodwill to the squirrel and set off again west towards Grisedale
Tarn. It had been an extraordinary night, one that I will never forget.
At about 9am I reached Grisedale Beck in heavy mist quite alone, and listened to the cascading
waterfalls below and beside me, shrouded but insistent. There was a chill in the air and heavy dew on
the ground. The fells and rocks were dripping.
Ruthwaite Lodge - Any room at the Inn?
Lake Distr...
I padded up the steep track past Rowthwaite Lodge which was used by the Outward Bound Trust as an
overnight shelter, and on up to the Tarn. Just before reaching it I detoured to an unusual looking object
sticking up from a rock face. I found a metallic sign with an inscription celebrating "The parting
brothers". Below on the stone was a half hidden extract from Wordsworth's poem to the same, chiselled
into the rock face.
I walked up to the eastern end of the tarn and was pleased to note no one about although there was a
single tent pitched. A row of empty beer cans lay outside the porch which I earnestly hoped was going to
be cleared up. The waters of the tarn were lapping onto the shingle and I noticed that there was a large
quantity of foamy suds in the water and along the shoreline. Again , I hoped this was not man made Grisedale Tarn in the clouds
from people washing and if so it was bio-degradable. I feared the worst and felt angry about these
supposed nature lovers camping out. Some were clearly not fit to be here, exporting their selfish habits
from home into this pristine environment.
I carried on westwards up the fell side above the tarn looking back at its breathtaking beauty in the
swirling mists. I took a few photographs and then girded my loins for a very steep climb up to Fairfield. It
took me 45 minutes of leg breaking ascent up a 1:2 type gradient, wherein I was constantly tottering for
balance on my toes. I reached the top exhausted at 11.15am just as the mist broke to reveal a wondrous
landscape around me with deep gullies, a wide plateau and a ridge to my left below me.
It was then that things started to go wrong to a degree that I have named the following event as "The
Fairfield Incident"
Feeling somewhat cocky from my surefooted navigation so far I struck out on the cairn marked pathway
ahead towards my destination St Sunday Crag. I was intrigued by the ridge below me but read this on
my map as being a secondary path up from Grisedale tarn. Therein lied disaster, as I should have taken a
compass reading at this point, which would have revealed the truth that this ridge was in fact Deepdale
Hause leading to St Sunday Crag. After recovering I strode off confidently on a route which I was to later
re name as "The Highway to Hell" slowly descending what was in reality Hart Crag and Dove Crag. The
mist and cloud closed in again and the ground was initially very rough with great shoals of loose rock
The Fairfield Incident Begins -
and slate to cross carefully. This then gave way to fields of peat bog of varying depths forcing me to hug
Lake Distr...
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25. The Fairfield Incident Begins -
and slate to cross carefully. This then gave way to fields of peat bog of varying depths forcing me to hug
A video diary entry full of falsehoods!
the dry stone wall to avoid being sucked down. My progress was slow but determined although my Lake Distr...
knees were beginning to complain again. Several groups of walkers passed me in either direction.
Where the hell am I?
I took a fall down this short
crag injuring my hand
It was only when the cloud broke at about 2pm that I realised my folly. Before me in the distance was a
great stretch of water with a narrowing waist in the middle. There was what could only be described as
a multiple decked ship slowly making way into mid channel. This certainly was not Ullswater and could
only be one thing. Lake Windermere. I had been walking due south instead of north east. I could see the
large town of Ambleside stretched beside the lake at its northern tip. I stopped feeling a little desperate
and considered re tracing my path, but the descent had been so difficult I resolved to press on. I
repeatedly swore at myself for being so stupid. The ground got no better and I slowly trundled my way
down several difficult crags having to scramble down in places with my heavy pack. In between these
crags were further dangerous fields of deep bog, one of which was actually fenced off with danger signs.
I managed to keep my sense of humour as I was joined by a large swarm of midges above my head who
followed me thereon. "Blood tonight boys. He'll be dead by dusk" I kept ranting breaking into hysterical
laughter. I consoled myself that this was not a life threatening situation as I had food, water and shelter
but sensed that if I had been navigating Napoleons army, a portable guillotine would have been erected
and my head taken swiftly. What made matters worse I was no longer on the map, having disappeared
off the southern edge, so I could not plan a contingency route out of my predicament.
My right knee was now screaming at me and repeatedly giving way. It clearly indicated that I had a torn
cartilage . I went into endurance mode and resolved to carry on regardless thinking about Joe Simpsons
crawl back to his Andean base camp with multiple injuries in "Touching the Void". It was funny but I felt
supremely fit apart from my knee. However, I began to make mistakes and fell at one small crag
scrambling, cutting my fingers as I braked. I thought to myself that this is how disasters can happen with
a catalogue of incidents running together to cause a situation to develop.
On The Highway to Hell!
Several fell runners passed me in the opposite direction with no equipment at all just shorts and a thin Joss Naylor in his element
singlet. One of them was bloodied down his head and arms like a gladiator leaving the ring. He had
evidently fallen but was undeterred. Perhaps it was Joss Naylor himself, the local hero of fell running
folklore.
I limped down the final fell side into the outskirts of Ambleside at 4.30 walking down luxury villa lined
lanes dreaming of a hot bath. I reached the centre bloody, sweaty , bog covered and exhausted . Diving
into the nearest newsagent for two cans of ice cold coke, I think the female assistant thought I was a
vagrant and almost threw the cans at me hoping I would leave asap. I limped over to a bench and drank
both in quick succession. As I came to, I realised the shoppers were looking at me strangely, as though I
was an alien. They were all well dressed and around me was a succession of very trendy outdoor
clothing stores and cream tea shops. Evidently no one had seen a real walker before and most had
clambered from their 4x4's in Gucci moleskin clothes into these twee retail stores before returning to
their hotels and luxury villas. I left my bench and gave the onlookers a 21 gun coke belch salute!
I briefly considered getting a taxi but decided to punish myself and really test my endurance capabilities.
I adjusted my equipment and walked out of town heading for the Kirkstone pass. The road was narrow,
1:3 gradient and very busy. I had to constantly dodge into the ditch to avoid oncoming traffic who
thought I was fair game. I eventually reached Kirkstone Inn at 6pm and then came off the road following
the fell side track down the valley. It went on and on. In the growing dark I momentarily mistook
Brothers Water for Ullswater and gave myself false hope. I crossed the swiftly flowing Kirkstone Beck at
7pm at the safest point I could find but still found the water coming up to my thighs. The gradient down
thankfully slowed and my knees calmed down. In the pitch black I walked around Brothers Water on a
twisting path and then rejoined the road, alternating between each side depending on the direction of
oncoming traffic. Eventually, at Hartsop, a footpath started which reduced my risk of sudden death by
about 80%.
I staggered back into camp at 8pm after 12 hours continuous walking covering approximately 25 miles of
rough extreme terrain!
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26. Friday 16th - Saturday 17th October
26 November 2009
14:56
I woke up at 8am after almost 12 hours sleep.
No doubt about it, rest day today. After a very slow breakfast and wash I wrote up my notes and tended
my CBS (cuts, bruises and swellings) Apart from my knees and cut hand I was feeling fine, even my back
was bearing up apart from the usual morning stiffness. There was no stiffness in my leg muscles at all.
Amazing, and a testament to my fitness training beforehand.
I had another long siesta between 1-4pm and did some major kit drying and sorting. I was filthy and
needed to be put through a car wash.
I then had a slow dinner and went to sleep again at 8pm
I got up promptly at 6am, on the saturday, and went to work packing my kit carefully. This time it took
55mins (I'm getting quicker each time). It was a clear sunny day and I went for my customary bacon bap
with Gillian and Tom at the Post Office.
They had just come back from a short break in the Hebrides and were very cheery. I gave them my
weeks news and related the Fairfield Incident to them which caused much mirth and merriment. Gillian
explained that walkers constantly came in asking why Windemere Lake looked so different and where
was Ambleside, having walked the other way to me from Fairfield. It was what the locals called one of
the Fells "Twilight Zones" where time and place became very confused. I vowed not to be so cocky next
time and take a damned compass reading. I then gave my farewells explaining that I was going to
explore the Blencathra range the following week. Gillian leaned across the counter and whispered "you
be careful on Sharp Edge, its very tricky!" How right she was, as I was to discover.
I caught the bus to Penrith and got on the 1124 back again to Warrington Bank Quay.
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27. Monday 19th October
26 November 2009
15:27
Up 6.15am and caught the 0827 train to Penrith from WBQ.
Impressed with WBQ. Clean, refurbished and new ticket office. Very friendly newsagent who called me "
her darling" I told her I was single and available.
In Penrith I caught the 1022 bus to Keswick. Very prompt and efficient with a friendly bus driver. He
gave me a very comprehensive briefing on all the different types of bus ticket you could get across
Cumbria and drew my attention to the old railway bed which took the old Penrith to keswick service. He
highlighted this as a good way of walking from Scales to keswick. All this conversation took place over 30
minutes whilst he drove the bus and took on more passengers. I had to stand close to the drivers
compartment to hear him, right beneath an enormous sign saying " Do not speak to driver whilst bus in
motion" I think if you had given him a microphone he would have been very happy giving guided tours.
I got off at Scales village, having booked a B&B the previous weekend. There were no nearby campsites
and as the light continued to draw in each day it was crucial to make the most of each, particularly as I
wanted to make my assault on the Blencathra range. So out of a pressing need for efficiency rather than
cowardice I had retreated indoors. I was met by the landlady Angela and was pleasantly re -assured that
her mission was to make me as comfortable as possible. I had had a vague sense that she could have
been very prohibitive, making me wear slippers and delivering statements such as "I do hope there will
be no alcohol drunk in the bedrooms or sex with wild animals before 9pm"
I was shown to a very carefully re furbished annexe and my room. A shower, loo and double bed with
heating. Oh luxury oh heaven. I lay stretched out on the bed feeling both guilty and indulgent.
At 1145 after rearranging equipment and clothing I set off in the pouring rain for Threlkeld Mining
Museum via the fells route. Mining was and had been so integral to Cumbria that I felt it was important
to learn a lot more about the methods, people and way of life. What better time to do this as the
weather was so inclement and not a thing could be seen at high level. I walked slowly along the foot of Lake District
the Blencathra fells, Doddick and Hall's crossing the scaley beck and Doddick Gill. These were in full Expedition ...
spate and I had a tricky time at Scaley where the path descended and ascended to the beck over very
craggy ground. At Gategill Farm I turned towards Threlkeld Village past the hunt kennels and the old
lead mine. The rain was pouring down and my walking boots were no longer waterproof as indicated on
the label. The first time they had let me down.
I called in at the Horse and Farrier Pub at 1245 and had a fantastic fish and chips lunch and made my
acquintance with Jennings "Sneck Lifter" cask ale. Setting off again, I crossed the road and discovered
the most bizarre Post Office. It was set in a private house with the counter at the original front door and
a converted front room. I had a chat with the post mistress who told me that the original one had been
closed due to the national closure programme and that she was determined to keep things going. I left
feeling so much that this was an England that had been and Cumbria was one of the last remnants of
defiance and old England spirit. The people were largely warm, welcoming, generous and determined.
I spent 3 hours at the museum. It was run by a group of volunteers and I met the curator Donald who
was one of those larger than life characters. The museum was a relatively recent addition to the old
quarry site and the team had created a whole set of tunnels and workings to demonstrate mining life to
visitors, together with several rooms of static presentations.
Donald explained that mining in England had got serious during Elizabeth I's reign due to the realms
desperate need for metals on the growing navy. German miners were considered the best in Europe and
Elizabeth set up the Royal Company of Mining with their guidance and training. The Threlkeld lead mine
stretched almost 2 miles into the mountainside and its employees were expected to work until they
were 70 retiring with no pension. There was an average of 120 deaths a year and the miners were
divided into unofficial classes of " Bull dogs" and "Crusts" denoting the most seasoned and those doing
just enough to earn their daily crust of bread.
The lighting was provided by sheep's wax candles, fixed to the miners caps, which stank dreadfully .
More modern inventions such as drills had often added to the suffering ,due to the vibration, causing
gradual paralysis. Shafts would be mined up from a deep seam position to allow gravity to help
extraction and water would be allowed down from the surface to draw air into the shaft.
http://www.cumbria-industries.org.uk/copper.htm
At 5pm I walked back to Scales. The rain had stopped and the sky was clearing. The Blencathra range
looked daunting with the five separate fell sides stretching down to the valley ,like stubby fingers on a
hand.
Diary Page 27