Captain's Log

Fairfield Horseshoe

Is there a better Lake District walking route than the Fairfield Horseshoe? Probably not. Most of the day is spent touching the clouds on an undulating ridge walk around the Rydal valley. There are exquisite views in every direction. The route is long enough that you feel that you’ve had a challenging tramp over the fells at the end of the day. At 873m, Fairfield’s summit presents a worthy target. The only real question is to decide which way round to do it. I’ve completed the walk many times over the decades and my preference would be anti-clockwise. This option has the advantage that you seem to gain height, and consequently the views, earlier than the other direction. The difference is marginal though. I asked the Kapitan and Cabin Boy which way they wanted to do the Fairfield Horseshoe today. ‘Clockwise’ they both bellowed. Their reasoning was that they didn’t like the ‘long’ walk back to Ambleside from Rydal Hall at the end of the walk, when going anti-clockwise. This includes a pavement plod alongside the busy A591, that I have to admit, does present a slight anti-climax to the walk. The walk through the grounds of the Rydal Estate is pleasant enough though. The Cabin Boy had spoken and so a clockwise Fairfield Horseshoe was the order of the day. 

Ice!

It was still dark when we left our digs in Ambleside. It was freezing too and everything glowed white under the street lights. I tested the pavement and found it to be very  slippery. I barked a warning about the conditions to the Cabin Boy and Kapitan as they were coming to the conclusion of their faffing at the dig's front door.
‘THWACK!’ I’d shuffled 50 yards or so down the icy street and heard what sounded like a sack of Lurpak butter hitting the pavement from a great height. I turned around to see what I thought was a seal that had lumbered its way up from Lake Windermere and was now flapping about on the pavement. On closer inspection, I saw that it was a prone Kapitan. By this time, the noise had caused such a disturbance in the neighbourhood, that house lights had been turned on and half faces were peering around the curtains. The Kapitan attempted to sit up and a metal flask fell out of the side pocket of his rucksack and rolled towards me with the sound of a dozen milk floats traversing a cobbled street. If there had been any house lights that hadn’t been switched on his initial fall, they were definitely glowing now. I caught the rolling flask and wandered up to the pair to see if everything was okay. Fortunately, apart from an imprint of the Kapitan’s head on the surface of the tarmac pavement, there was no further harm. I breathed a sigh of relief; Councils can get a bit funny about damage to their infrastructure. 

Rydal

Our descent into Ambleside’s centre was made with clenched buttocks as we nervously made our geriatric shuffle along its icy streets. We made our way through the quiet high street that glowed with colourful  Christmas decorations. The pavement plod out of Ambleside alongside the A591 didn’t actually feel that bad since it was so early that the road was quiet. We soon made it to the entrance to the Rydal Estate and set off along the stone track to the hall. It was getting lighter now and the hills that contribute to the Fairfield Horseshoe appeared before us. Small patches of cloud illuminated pink as the sun started to rise. At Rydal Hall, I played the part of paparazzi to a shy Robin that fluttered from pillar to post. Even though it was still early, we joined other walkers as we made our way up the zig-zags of Nab Scar. By the time we neared its top, the sun peaked its head over Wansfell Pike and the world was bathed in a golden glow. 

Western Ridge

An advantage (or disadvantage, depending how you look at it) of doing a clockwise route is that you seem to gain height more quickly than the anti-clockwise version. We reached Heron Pike and had that wonderful view along the humped back ridge to the summit of Fairfield. Or rather…not quite, since Fairfield itself was capped by a light mist. It was an easy walk along the ridge and the time seemed to flow by quickly with the excellent views on either side as a distraction. Earlier, I had mooted the idea to the Kapitan and the Cabin Boy that we might divert off the Fairfield Horseshoe on the eastern ridge and include Red Screes on our itinerary. As we climbed the ridge up to Great Rigg, the Kaptian and Cabin Boy were getting further and further behind. Normally when the Captain Boy wants to break bad news to me, she sends the Kapitan as her emissary. So it was on this occasion. He reported that the Cabin Boy could not contemplate the Red Screes extension today. Decision decreed, we set off up the final climb to Fairfield’s summit. 

Fairfield

We climbed into the cloud cloaking Fairfield’s plateau summit. The absence of the sun and a strong wind meant that it felt a lot colder. A plod across icy stones brought us to the stone shelters at the top. We could have done with a break, but these particular shelters provided meagre protection against the strong wind. There was no point lingering and so we set off along the track that runs along the edge of the head of the Rydal valley. We now started to encounter plenty of walkers travelling in the opposite direction as we passed the halfway point on the Fairfield Horseshoe. It wasn’t until we dropped down to Link Hause that we found shelter out of the wind for a break. The spot provided a lofty view down the Rydal valley and we could see the silvery meander of Rydal Beck as it headed off towards Lake Windermere in the distance. 

Eastern Ridge

The climb out of Link Hause brought us back into the cloud, wind and bitter cold again. Hart Crag was ticked for Ted’s Wainwrights and we descended down its rocky southern summit slope and out of the clouds for the last time. The grassy ascent to Dove Crag was gradual and felt pleasant in the sun again. I thought about re-suggesting the Red Screes extension, but I knew better than to question the Cabin Boy's commandments. I kept quiet as we passed the Red Screes turnoff and plodded onwards along the broad ridge towards High Pike.      

A drone flyer had commandeered the summit cairn of the Wainwright. As his machine buzzed around our heads, I became distracted and this resulted in a summit photo of Ted that was slightly out of focus. I like the film footage from drones, but not the drones themselves. We set off towards Low Pike. A high wall runs along the ridge and there is a footpath on either side. Occasionally, there are either gates or stiles that allow you to transfer to the other side. Both the High Pike and Low Pike summits are on the Scandale Valley side and so we stuck to the east of the wall for our descent.  

A small out-and-back ascent was required to reach the summit of Low Pike. The Cabin Boy left me and the Kapitan the honour of carrying Ted up for his Wainwright photo. As we descended further along the ridge, the members of a family ran past us. Curiously, the husband looked as though he was wearing ladies pyjama bottoms. To be honest, I think I’d run past people as fast as possible under such circumstances. 

The Cabin Boy had been worrying herself, and consequently the rest of us, with the potential encounter of Highland Cows near High Sweden Bridge. They do seem to congregate around the area. Fortunately for us, and maybe even the cows, they were absent as we made our way across to the east side of Scandale Beck. At last the Cabin Boy and everybody else could now relax for the day. 

Return

It was a pleasant walk along the track back to Ambleside. The sun was setting and it was getting dark as we entered the outskirts of the village. The centre was buzzing with Christmas shoppers and revellers. A line of cars inched their way along its high street. Back at our digs we were surprised to find some council workmen relaying the tarmac where the Kapitan had taken a tumble this morning. They were cursing at having to attend an emergency callout over the holiday period. We walked sheepishly past them…especially the Kapitan.