Captain's Log

Kirk Fell

I woke up to find my tent rattling furiously with the wind. At least it didn’t sound as though it was raining. I stuck my head out of the tent door. It was a greyish sky, but it wasn’t misty and it didn’t look like impending rain. Maybe I was in for another reasonable day. It was only 06:30, but I could see another walker making his way across the Kirk Fell plateau towards the summit. Some people must like very early starts. I was soon packed up and ready to roll.    

At first glance, today’s walk appeared easier than the epic hauls over the Scafell massif and Mosedale hills that I’d completed over the last couple of days. Having said that, I knew it would be far from easy. The day would start with a steep descent from Kirk Fell and then a traverse of the mighty Great Gable. There was a bit of a scramble descent on the east side of Great Gable too that I was slightly concerned about. It’s not a particularly difficult scramble, but carrying a large, heavy rucksack makes things more tricky. Once that obstacle was surmounted, then I would be able to relax for the rest of the day. There would be a relatively flat plod across Green Gable, Brandreth and Grey Knotts, before descending to the top of Honister Pass. I’d have an opportunity there to refuel at the Honister Slate Mine café, if my wallet could stand the hit. After lunch, it would be a long, long haul to the summit of Dale Head, the reward for the effort being one of the best views in the Lake District towards Keswick. I’d then follow an airy path along Hindscarth Edge, before carrying out an out-and-back to the summit of Hindscarth. There would then be an exhausting climb to the last peak of the day, Robinson. I hoped to camp on its summit, but this would be dependent on the weather. All packed up, I set off eastwards towards the massive lump of Great Gable. 

Great Gable

Yesterday evening, I’d arrived on Kirk Yetholm in the walker’s equivalent of the doldrums. How things had changed overnight. The south-westerly battered me as I made my way down Kirk Fell’s eastern path. It was relentless. I had to stop a couple of times, huddled behind protective rocks, just to regroup. If it was going to be this bad on Great Gable, I might even struggle to get to its top, never mind traversing it. Eventually I made my way down to Beck Head, the col between Kirk Fell and Great Gable. As I made my way towards the north-western path up Great Gable, the wind started to reduce. The huge bulk of the mountain was providing me a degree of protection, for which I was most grateful. As I started the climb, the wind almost dropped to nothing. 

I’ve climbed Great Gable’s north-western path many times. I doubt whether I’ve taken the same route twice. There are many tracks that its many visitors have used. There are a few cairns dotted about too. I generally make the mistake of picking a path that goes too close to Gable Crag that usually ends up with me scrambling over large boulders. Sometimes I’d drift too far south onto paths that were steep scree. There’s a happy medium between the two and I happened to hit on it today. Don’t ask me to find it again though. I managed to get to Great Gable’s summit plateau with the use of trekking poles alone and no hands-on scrambling at all. I reached its craggy summit and was surprised that I was the only one there, since Great Gable’s one of the most popular peaks in the Lake District. I scrambled up the rocks to the summit and was nearly blown over by the south-westerly that had reappeared. I had a short break and then set off eastwards towards the aptly named Windy Gap. The scramble down the tricky section that had concerned me, wasn’t such a problem in reality. I thought I might have to take more rucksack off and lower it down, but it didn’t really present a problem when approached with care. Once at its bottom, I could relax and enjoy the easier walking to Honister Pass. 

Green Gable, Brandreth And Grey Knotts

The BGR fell runners must love this stretch to Honister Pass. They will have all the difficult sections behind them and they’ll have a good idea whether they’ll be able to complete the round in 24 hours. Having said that, they’ll have run about 55 miles and completed 23,000 feet of ascent and so they’re probably not in their peak physical or mental condition to appreciate it. I certainly enjoyed it. The sun was out, the wind was keeping me cool and the views of Gable Crag and the Ennerdale valley were amazing. I ticked off Green Gable and then made my way over easy ground to Brandreth. The refreshingly flat terrain continued to Grey Knotts. I was clicking miles and peaks off quickly today. The route down from Grey Knotts to the top of Honister Pass was not one of my favourites. It’s a rough track, occasionally steep and I found it hard to get into a rhythm. Maybe it was the thought of food at the cafe at the slate mine. It was also about a 350m vertical drop which was a bit disappointing, since I’d have to climb back up 400m to get to the top of Dale Head on the other side of the valley, in the afternoon. Maybe the slate mine could have strung a zip wire between Grey Knotts and Dale Head and saved all the effort. Eventually, I reached the dusty and busy encampment of the slate mine buildings at the top of Honister Pass. 

Honister Slate Mine

I knew from my recent Coast To Coast Venture that the café didn’t provide free water; one had to buy their £2.50 500ml bottles instead. A sign had said that the reason was that they didn’t have a filtered source for the site. I wasn't really sure why that provided an excuse to charge such an extortionate price for something that costs pennies in a supermarket. I really needed to refill my water bottles though and I’d noticed the grooves of some streams running down the hillside on Dale Head’s flanks. I decided to walk down the road half a mile to see if I could filter some water from them. When I got there, I was surprised to find that there was only a trickle running down them and not a source I’d use to filter water.  Crikey, this valley was very dry. I considered investigating Hause Gill, but that ran a bit too close to the Slate Mine for my liking. There was going to be nothing for it, but to buy some water from the café. I started plodding back up to the top of the pass.    

I spent £35 at the café. For that I got: 1  sausage roll, 1 pasty, 1 piece of cake, 2 bottles of beer, 1 packet of crisps and 2 bottles (500 ml) of water. I’ll leave it to you to judge whether that was good value or not. In fairness, the food was very good. I treated myself to the 2 bottles of beer since I knew what a slog it would be up to Dale Head and I wanted to numb myself to the prospect. 

Dale Head

At least the wind was behind me as I made my way up the Dale Head path. The northern cliff face of Fleetwith Pike looked impressive across the valley. Occasionally I’d see the mine’s bus making its way up the mine track to deliver a new cohort of adventurers  to try out the via ferrata on the cliffs. The route up to the summit dragged on with a false summit or two raising hopes and then shattering them. Eventually, the well made summit cairn came into view and then that incredible panorama northwards along the valley towards Keswick.   

I’d arrived at the summit at the same time as another walker, who looked to be in his 60s, and we started chatting. It turned out that we’d both been born in the same city and he’d eventually moved up here to a small village near Cockermouth. It’s a small world. He’d parked at the top of Honister Pass and was pondering whether to extend his day to include High Spy. In the end, he gave up on the idea and started heading down the path that I’d just climbed. 

Hindscarth

I headed east over the airy Hindscarth Edge. This provided a superb view across the valley to Fleetwith Pike and along it to Buttermere and Crummock Water. I diverted from the edge to pick up a path to Hindscarth. This opened up the view eastwards to High Spy’s dramatic cliffs. I soon reached Hindscarth’s summit. It was still very windy and I wondered how feasible it would be to camp on Robinson’s summit. The chap who I’d talked to on Dale Head said that he’d often seen wildcampers up there. The problem was that if it was too windy, there weren't really any alternative sheltered options available. I looked down into Little Dale that separated Hindscarth and Robinson and wondered if that might be an option. I’d see what it was like on Robinson first. 

Robinson

It was a 150m vertical drop from the summit of Hindscarth to the col with Robinson. I had to make all that height back up with the climb up to Robinson’s summit. It was a steep climb and tiring after a long day. The sun that had accompanied me for all of the day was gradually disappearing into grey clouds. The weather seemed to be on the turn. I reached Robinson’s summit and then started looking around for a suitable place to wildcamp. It was still very windy and I wondered if I ought to try and drop down into Little Dale for protection. That would have meant dropping nearly 300m in vertical height and I wasn’t really sure whether there would be any suitable pitches anyway. I debated the pros and cons and eventually settled on a pitch to the northeast of Robinson’s summit. There were some low crags that I thought might offer some protection from the wind, but this turned out to be negligible once I’d pitched the tent. The wind rattled the canvas and poles and I hoped that the tent pegs in the stony ground would hold. It was going to be a noisy night. The rain started just before I dropped off to sleep.     

I’d really enjoyed the walk today. The traverse of Great Gable wasn’t as difficult as I’d imagined and I welcomed the easier walking from there to Honister Pass. My wallet was considerably lighter after visiting the cafe at Honister Slate Mine, but hey-ho. The views along the Ennerdale, Buttermere and Hindscarth valleys had been stunning. It certainly hadn’t been an easy haul though; I’d climbed over 1000m during the day and it felt like it.