Captain's Log

Return To Woundale

It was a grey start to the day as the Kapitan, Cabin Boy, Ted and myself made our way out of Ambleside. The weather didn’t look that promising. There was no rain forecast though, and so hopefully it would be a reasonably dry day. Today’s walk would follow the line of Stock Ghyll on a leisurely ascent to the Kirkstone Inn at the top of the pass. From there we would breach the crags above the Inn before dropping down the other side to the lonely Woundale. I’d only visited this pretty valley once before (see Wansfell Woundale Amble) and my only company on that occasion had been sheep and a few deer. I was hoping that we might see a few more deer again today. Once in Woundale, we’d follow the valley southwards to the A592 (Kirkstone-Troutbeck road). The route would include about a quarter of a mile walking along the road and attention to oncoming traffic would be required. There wouldn’t be a problem today though since the road was closed to vehicles due to a landslip in the Troutbeck valley. From the road, we’d make our way southwards to Idle Hill and follow the ridge line over Baystones to Wansfell Pike. Given it was the period between Christmas and the New Year I was expecting to find quite a few walkers at its summit (I wasn’t wrong!). After admiring the views we’d drop down Wansfell Pike's southeast side and return to Ambleside via Bluehill wood. 

The Struggle

It was an easy tarmac tramp from Ambleside. The road only services a handful of houses and terminates at Middle Grove and so any traffic is a rarity. The Cabin Boy looked uneasy when we heard some mooing ahead. This turned out to be some Belted Galloways down in the valley and so she breathed a sigh of relief. It was an easy start to the walk involving a leisurely ascent on a good path. The Kirkstone Inn was visible at the head of the pass and so we always had our immediate target in sight. Under some trees, we came across an old caravan that was coated in green moss. Somebody had scraped ‘Cheque In The Post’ on the side. Why anybody would feel the need to drag a caravan all the way from the road to this particular location is beyond me. The smashed debris of another caravan was next door. I guess somebody must know the backstory to this eyesore. 

A little further along we came across a sheep with impressive horns; I bet the farmer presented this particular one at the local agricultural show. A couple of dozen Belted Galloways came into view, but they were a 100 yards or so from our path and didn’t seem to take any interest in us. Some Highland Cattle were closer and seemed more interested, but a stone wall stood between us and them. The Cabin Boy gave another sigh of relief when we reached the end of the field and the road  up to the Kirkstone Inn. This bit of the road is known as The Struggle and is named for good reason. It was a steep trudge up its slope. Somebody had painted ‘A Little Struggle’ on to the road to inform the cyclists (and walkers) of the effort required ahead. It wasn’t too long though and we soon reached the A592. As I’d expected, the road down to Troutbeck was blocked  with concrete blocks and some cones. The large carpark at the head of the pass was very busy with vans and mobile homes. Mist hung around the top of Red Screes. I could see a lone walker halfway up making their way down the path towards the carpark. Our route was on the other side of the valley, up to the crags on St Raven’s Edge. 

Woundale

It wasn’t a long climb up to St Raven’s Edge, but it was quite interesting. There were a couple of sections where a bit of very easy hands-on scrambling was required. It was an impressive view back over the pass to the steep eastern flank of Red Screes. The lone walker I’d seen earlier was nearly down now and was about to meet half a dozen other walkers making their way up from the carpark. There was a very large circular cairn where the ascent path met the St Raven’s Edge path. We continued eastwards over trackless fell dropping down the easiest route through the nearby crags. We approached the disused quarry from the south. A sheep must have been sleeping in the derelict stone building since it bounded out when we got near. It hung around watching us with a look that said ‘Why did you disturb me? Nobody comes to Woundale.’ A track led us down into the valley, but it eventually disappeared and so we trudged across trackless fell to the valley beck, just north of a large sheepfold. There was a good view down the length of the Woundale valley. We could see the Baystones and Wansfell range at its end and we started following the beck towards it. 

'Look, some Deer!’ The Kaptian’s canny eyes spotted quite a few deer making their way across the hillside near to out descent route from the quarry. I zoomed in with my camera and could see some bucks in the group. As with my previous visit to the valley, I didn’t see any other humans; only sheep and deer. Further down the valley we came to a wonderful ancient stone bridge. Large stone slabs had been laid over stone pillars. There wasn’t that much water coming across the beck today and so I waded across to get a better photo. We crossed a couple of fields and went through a gate to join the A592. As expected, there weren’t any vehicles using the road, although we did have to step onto the verge a couple of times to avoid the cyclists who were making speedy descents. I came across a postcard discarded on one of the verges. There was a long message written on the back written in neat hand writing. At first, I thought it was written in French, but there were quite a few words that looked like German too. I then saw a Belgian web address for the postcard manufacturer and so I assumed it was Flemish. It had an unfranked foreign stamp stuck on and I had half a mind to post it, but then I realised it didn’t have an address on it. The message on the postcard overlapped into the address area. Maybe the writer intended to put the postcard in an envelope to send it. But then, why would they put a stamp on it? The mystery would remain unresolved and unfortunately Steffe’s father never received news of his daughter’s travels in England’s Lake District. 

Baystones And Wansfell Pike

The fell between the A592 and the start of the Baystones-Wansfell Pike range was very boggy. So boggy, I wondered if the water might overflow into my boots. Fortunately it didn’t and we reached drier ground that took us up Idle Hill. Our lunch was taken at a sheltered spot near to the summit of Baystones. There was a constant stream of walkers heading up to the small hump of the hill and a lot of them were lingering and being rather noisy. Baystones is actually the Wainwright (rather than Wansfell Pike, which is about 3m lower), but the summit was really too busy to support the four of us and everybody else up there. Ted would just have to get his photo taken at the prettier Wansfell Pike. The ridge was very busy with other walkers. It was the holiday season after all. We could see even greater numbers on the summit of Wansfell Pike. After the quiet solitude of Woundale, Wansfell turned out to be quite a culture shock. Ted got his ‘Wainwright’ photo on the top of Wansfell Pike, amidst the chaos of loud people, barking dogs and screaming kids. Looking down the stone steps on the hill’s western flank we could see a long stream of people making their way up and down. We headed along the southeast ridge in the hope of finding a quieter path. 

Return

Even the southeast ridge was busy with people. Fortunately, most of these headed off towards Skelghyll Wood, whereas we took a more direct route back to Ambleside. There were wonderful views along Lake Windermere and over to the Coniston and Langdale fells during the descent. It was a perfect end to the walk. 

Despite the grey day, the rain had held off and it had been a very enjoyable walk in the Lake District. I’m rather attracted to the solitude of Woundale. I’m sure I will return at a future date. The ridge from Hart Crag to High Great Knott on the eastern side of the valley looks well worth further investigation. Ted didn’t get his photo taken on the pimple top of Baystones (Wansfell), but a summit shot of people taking selfies wouldn’t have made a great backdrop for a photo anyway.