Tryfan North Ridge, and Bristly Ridge

The mountain of Tryfan is probably the most exciting scrambling location anywhere in Wales and in particular the North Ridge. The 3,000ft peak rises steeply from the A5 offering climbing of all levels, and grade 1 scrambling is plentiful. 

But it is also one of the most hazardous mountains in Snowdonia. 

Most MRT call outs in this area are centred around Tryfan and fatalities occur most years due to scramblers unfamiliar with the mountain, with limited scrambling experience, finding themselves on more serious terrain than grade 1 scrambling as navigation with map and compass are almost useless here, so it’s a mountain to respect more than most in the area.

I had been waiting for the opportunity to climb the North Ridge of Tryfan with an experienced scrambler that knows the mountain well for a number of years, as it is a “must do” for any UK mountain enthusiast. But I’ve always felt climbing this route without that experience for the first time would be a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

The opportunity arose in August when I was invited by a group of experienced guys, one of whom was Luke, and you could say he is a Tryfan expert, who knows the mountain inside out, and is as much a mountaineer as he is a scrambler.

The other two guys, Dave and Dom had also climbed the mountain before, so they were also quite familiar with it.

I’ve missed opportunities in the past due to having Crohn’s Disease which has hampered my health and fitness from time to time, so this time around I felt fit enough to take it on. 
At 56 years old I’ve left it a bit late in the day to start taking on such scrambles for the first time. but I felt if I didn’t do it now I never would.

This would be my biggest test of scrambling to date, and I really didn’t know how I would find the exposure.

I guess Striding Edge has been the most exposed I’ve climbed, so time to step it up a level and see if I can scare the jeepers out of myself, and still keep it together.

The group had been weather watching all week in the build to our arranged Saturday date.

The forecast early in the week was terrible, giving heavy rain and high winds.

I actually pulled out of the trip on the Tuesday before the climb, as I didn’t like the idea of scrambling on wet rock I was unfamiliar with.

However as the week progressed the forecast of rain was delayed until later in the afternoon and by Friday, a good dry start to the day was forecast. 

Collectively the group decided the climb was on, calculating we would probably have climbed Tryfan by the time the rain hits, and if it hasn’t we’d hopefully push on to Bristly Ridge. So with this improved forecast, I agreed to join them.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning as I left home at 6.15am, and it remained so for the entire drive down on a quiet A55 and A5 into the Ogwen Valley, in Snowdonia. 

I was about 25 minutes early and finding almost the last parking spot in the Milestone Buttress lay-by, which would be our starting point.

A few minutes later Dave pulled up right in front on me, grabbing that last spot. 

I’d only met Dave once before today, in the Lake District over a weekend, but we only had a brief chat amongst a large group of walkers there. It was so brief that Dave asked if we had met before? I mustn’t have made much of an impression on him in the Lakes as I smiled to myself.

Parking up at the foot of the mighty Tryfan

Looking out west over the Llyn Ogwen to a beautiful morning

Our start time was 9.00am, Luke and Dom appeared from a car midway up the lay-by. 
I knew Dom very well, having walked many times in his company in Wales, The Lake District and in Scotland, but it was the first time I'd met Luke.

After our introductions we had a short chat about what to expect on the route up and Luke gave me some friendly assurances as I admitted I felt a little apprehensive.
Minutes later, we were on our way up the path of the Milestone Buttress having geared up with rucksacks on, and as it was mild, we were just wearing mid layers.

Luke led the group and asked for me to follow him at the scramble sections and Dave or Dom would then hang back and presumably keep an eye on my climbing should I need any assistance.

I think most folk kind of turn left on the Milestone path and follow the route a little further up to the left before turning right and into the gullies for the scramble proper. 
Luke had other ideas for us, as we opted for the ladder stile over the wall on the right. 
We then crossed some heather covered steep ground to a large step about neck height with a strategically placed boulder at it’s foot, a quick demonstration was given by Luke on how to negotiate the step by a jump off the boulder, (positioned for short legs) onto the ledge with his stomach then a leg wriggle and a clamber onto the step using his arms to push down which he made look easy. 

I tried to copy his moves but without a proper hand hold this was going to be tricky but by some miraculous fortune I managed to gain the step first time. There wasn’t much of a technique, more a resemblance to a sea lion departing the waters for an awkward rock. 
The other guys followed without too much difficulty and this would set the tone for the day. 

Luke would lead on this more quieter route showing me where to place my feet and plan where my next move would be, he pointed out hand holds and was extremely encouraging. 

Luke showing the way

The weather was excellent, warm and out of the southerly wind, with high clouds giving hazy sunshine the Rhyolite rock was dry and grippy.

Soon after the step, we found ourselves on a slightly precarious ledge, where Luke pointed out that Dave and myself were wearing wedding rings, and for safety sake, it would be best if they were removed or taped up at a more convenient spot. 

This didn’t settle my nerves much, but we did duly oblige and I put my wedding ring in my rucksack belt pocket.

We continued to make progress up the mountain, climbing steadily between rock and heather. We’d regroup at various points, usually at the foot of a gully where Luke would point out the route up and give tips on hand and foot holds. He’d then lead the climb and one at a time would follow, making the going slow, but care and safety was the order of the day.

Luke pointing out where to place my feet

My adrenaline had kicked in quite early on and confidence was building with each step climbed. Mileage was irrelevant today, looking back down at the road way below us, we were no more than a quarter of a mile in, but had been on the mountain an hour or so? 

The steep climb of the North Ridge shrink cars to ant size on the A5

I tried to be positive with each new section of rock face and without too much delay got myself up the rock, watching Luke’s moves as best as I could while carefully positioning my own hands and feet. Sometimes I’d miss Luke’s movements above me, as I concentrated on my own hands and feet, then looking up I’d be wondering how the hell did he get up there?

There were sections to negotiate without foot holds, but just good hand holds. Luke would say “put your arms out stretched away from the rock and paste the wall with your toes and walk up the rock” not easy with short arms. “I am stretching” I’d say with a laugh, it was a full body workout, but it worked well, and I made progress.

There were always easier alternative routes, but I think we were being tested just a bit, especially when we arrived at an almost vertical 9m/30ft wall. I think a grade 2 scramble was mentioned here, but I might be wrong.

I was thinking to myself “no bloody way are we going up there” but Luke spent a minute or two convincing me there were plenty of holds in the rock, and I could do it. My confidence was high, so I thought I’d give it a go for a couple of feet at least. Dave and Dom just quietly got on with following me, enjoying every minute of the challenge I suspected.

So I did climb the wall, easy to start with, and before I knew it, I was halfway up it, although struggled at one point to find a good hand hold at about three quarters of the way up. Returning back down safely wasn’t an option and I think I said a couple of expletive words once I’d safely made it over the top of the rock face brought on by relief to be safe again.

Really???

Before I knew it, I was halfway up

Luke leading myself, followed by Dave, thanks to Dom for the photo

Almost there!!!

By now I was pretty pleased with my efforts, but then yet another test was laid before us.

A narrow ledge was all I had to stand on, and face into a smooth wall without hand holds, below was about a twenty foot drop. All I needed to do was shuffle along about two feet, where a hand hold would be. 
It was a shuffle of faith, but I couldn’t do it. The thought of losing my balance here with my rucksack on my back without anything to grab onto was too much and I bottled it. Turning back towards Dom, he said he also had experienced the same when asked to do it on his first attempt, which made me feel a bit better.

The exposure so far had been okay as long as I had secure hand and foot holds, I felt briefly nervous a couple of times but my focus was solely on where my hands and feet were being placed.

It was only when Luke spotted some climbing rope at the top of a gully, and proceeded to untie it while the three of us held our positions. This gave me the chance to look around at the drop below.

I was okay with it, but a slip here would be serious so it helped to re focus the mind. 
But I had a good foot hold and hung on tight until the ropes had been retrieved.

Luke, Dave and Dom heading for Tryfan summit

For much of the morning there was not a lot of relaxed conversation, we were all focused on getting up each section in between Luke’s climbing tutorial mostly for my benefit, and he was good. You could pay a hundred quid or more for a guide and wouldn’t get better coaching.

He would also tell us about some of his unplanned experiences on the mountain, which were all very interesting.

Weighing up our next moves.

We were soon at a large cairn, and for the first time all morning we were in the company of a number of people. I glanced around to see the famous “Cannon Stone” which explained the numbers of folk hanging around, waiting their turn for that iconic photo on the stone.

Obviously we were going to wait for the opportunity for me to have a snap, and sure enough the group before us were done within minutes.

Having left my rucksack with the guys I climbed onto the famous stone, the 45 degree angle makes it quite steep and a bit nervy near the end, so I was happy to only walk up to a couple of feet short of that precarious end. Once Dom had captured the moment I quickly walked back off it and was replaced by Luke who showed me how it’s done by posing right on the end of the stone. I think both Dave and Dom had already done the tourist snaps, so it was time to move on.

We had now joined the masses as we approached the North Tower, an intimidating wall of rock with a stream of scramblers queuing up its face.

But rather than wait our turn, we headed right of the tower, guided by our local man we continued to scramble up this fantastic  Quartz peppered rock, quite sharp in places and by now my finger tips were feeling slightly sore from holding on to it.

Luke and Dom having a look at a possible route up, while Dave and I opted for an easier route. As it happens, due to a rock fall, this was no longer an option.

We were now almost at the 3,000ft point and just below the summit which was now in view a short distance away. 

But we still had plenty of scrambling to do to reach it, and I was beginning the feel it in my shoulders and legs now. We could also feel that southerly breeze blowing as we no longer had shelter from the mountain side.

Luke and Dave with the Tryfan summit and "Adam and Eve" in the background

It was at this point we heard a faint roar of jet engines and a simultaneous “wow” from a nearby group in amongst the rocks, who’d spotted the “Hawks” of the “Red Arrows” flying in two groups in formation through the valley below us. Amazing to see these fantastic aircraft from some height above them, a real treat.

Another few minutes of fine scrambling and we had finally arrived at the busy summit of Tryfan. It had taken us about 3 hours to climb it.

The lads congratulated me on my first ascent of the mountain, Luke added I’d done it in style, and I did feel a bit proud of myself. I felt I’d deserved to be there on the summit. With thanks to Luke’s knowledge I’d like to think we had taken a more testing route than most we were in the company of at the summit that day.

A group of young student looking guys were gathered at “Adam and Eve’ these are two rock monoliths which stand about 7 or 8 feet in height and about 4 feet apart, with a huge drop on the far side.

Legend has it, that jumping across from one to the other grants you the freedom of Tryfan. 

Well for me, I’d rather tuck into my egg and ham sandwich and watch from afar the younger and braver individuals watched on by the not so brave like myself. “You can keep the freedom” I thought to myself, I felt free enough, today anyway.

As my adrenaline subsided I felt some fatigue in my legs at this point, and a chance to sit and rest a short time was welcomed.

Having climbed the mountain three times, Dave decided it was time to gain the freedom. And he made an excellent jump without delay once he’d climbed the rock, which is no easy feat. Luke followed with an equally confident jump from Adam to Eve and back again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the mountain man.

Dave jumping "Adam and Eve" confidently

We sat on the summits limited rock seating just after midday, as many walkers had picked the prime spots on a busy summit. 

We refuelled our energy levels with some lunch, and as payment for putting a knee down several times during the scrambling I shared out my Jelly Babies in a light hearted form of a fine.

The weather had played its part and stayed dry and the cloud base stayed high. However we could see a thick band of cloud was on its way in from the west carrying that expected rain, it was just a matter of how much time we had.

As we left the summit of Tryfan heading south down to the col where Bristly Ridge was waiting for us beyond, there was no question of the group not going on to climb the ridge while the rain had held off. However I was seriously considering whether I had the legs to go on and climb it. Looking at our descent route back to the cars from the col, it was so tempting to say, sorry guys I’m heading down. In fact I did say I was tempted as I was concerned I didn’t have the energy for such another climb as this, and having had major surgery in February my fitness was still recovering.

But once again the guys were positive, and encouraged me to continue. I also felt it could be one of the few opportunities to climb the ridge with experienced scramblers I might get, so I decided to carry on and do it.

Looking over to Glyder Fach and the climb up Bristly Ridge

Again it was a careful steady descent off the summit of Tryfan, it was much easier scrambling this side than the North Ridge and we soon arrived at the foot of Bristly Ridge.

Looking from the col the route down to Llyn Bochlwyd

Luke offered us the choice of two gullies we could climb. Sinister or Dexter, we opted for the more enjoyable and slightly easier Sinister gully. The name comes from the Latin word “left” rather than it being overly dangerous. “Dexter” comes from the Latin word for “Main” Gully.

A short group discussion before the climb

The excellent climbing in Sinister Gully

Don't look down!!!

Looking back at Tryfan

Sinister Gully is high and steep, but fairly easy to climb with lots of hand and foot holds. 
Very similar to the North Ridge of Tryfan but a little more exposed.

At the top of Sinister Gully, we regrouped on a small shelf of ground, and a short stand to wait for Dave and Dom to arrive at the top was needed. This was probably the longest drop of the day and again it focused the concentration as a wobble here would be serious.

Dom nearing the top of the gully

Moving on behind Luke as he climbed up and over another exposed piece of rock I didn’t dare look down, I just concentrated on being precise with my feet and hands. My adrenaline was pumping again as we reached the Great Pinnacle Gap. Fatigue what fatigue?

It’s amazing how adrenaline gives you all the energy needed to accomplish what’s required to keep you safe.

A tricky down climb is required at the Pinnacle Gap and Luke as always was there to guide us first left, and down a reasonably safe section, offering guidance of feet on the way down.

We then headed around to the right of the Pinnacle.

By now we were shrouded in cloud, accompanied by light drizzly rain and a stronger breeze, as that band of cloud had finally arrived.

We all stopped at this point to put on waterproofs jackets, before continuing. 

Part of the down climb at the Pinnacle Gap

The rock very quickly got noticeably slippery and I didn’t want to hang around too long on it. 

Thankfully we were soon on safer rock at the top of Bristly Ridge as the rain continued to get heavier, and the clag got thicker.

We discussed our options for our exit and as conditions were deteriorating fast we opted for the shortest but safest route down which was the scree at the side of the ridge rather than heading for Glyder Fach and descending Y Gribin.

As the rain got heavier, waterproof over trousers went on as we started our descent.

We were joined by a number of walkers down the scree, presumably from Glyder Fach. Some were seen but others were just heard through the thick mist.

The scree was steep and care needed for much of the way down to the wall and stile .

From here we continued on a familiar path I’d been on before when coming down from Glyder Fach.

It was a long walk......yes walk, it felt like the first time all day we had just walked a reasonably flatish path. I was surprised to feel still reasonably fit, and was glad the guys persuaded me to do Bristly Ridge. 

The weather forecast was spot on, the plan paid off and it was a fabulous and exhilarating experience. I felt quite proud of myself for achieving the days climbing with only the early wobble on Tryfan, as we walked passed the pleasant waters of Llyn Bochlwyd (in English “Greycheek Lake” apparently) on a now well established footpath.

Did I scare the jeepers out of myself? 

Not as much as I thought I would. It turns out I do have a head for heights. I just need my hands to feel secure as well as my feet.

As the rain was still belting it down as we finally reached the cars after the long walk back down the mountain side, we all quickly said our farewell’s before drying off and heading home.

I was certainly glad I’d left some food in the car and a change of clothes before leaving Wales, for a more comfortable drive home. But I couldn’t replace my wedding ring, as my fingers were slightly swollen, they always are after a good walk. So had to wait a few hours more before it was returned to it’s rightful place.

Once again guys, thanks for the experience, it was fantastic.

The Central Fells of Lakeland

Well......it was time to return to the Lake District after undergoing major surgery back in February. I’d been out walking with friends on Kinder Scout in the Peak District a couple of weeks earlier, so I was feeling pretty confident I was fit enough to return to some Lakeland walking.

I was looking for a fairly easy walk, but including fells on my Wainwright list, something like Black Fell and Holme Fell, not too high and about 6 miles. But then I remembered one route I’d planned last year in the central fells, Walla Crag, Bleaberry Fell, High Seat, High Tove and Armboth, of which, some are notoriously boggy for most of the year. So after an absolutely scorcher of a May without hardly any rain, these fells would be about as dry as they will get and now would be a good time to get them done.

The walk would be about 11 miles, a little more than I wanted, but I was hoping the going would be good, these fells were relatively low, the highest being a little over 600m and I’d be adding 5 Wainwright’s to my tally, taking me to 114.

My planned route

The weather was continuing to stay warm as it did in May, and temperatures were expected to reach about 19c-20c on the fell tops today, light winds but early morning mist clearing during the morning, but giving way to isolated showers later in the afternoon with possible thunderstorms. 

Undeterred by the forecast, I left home at 6:30am with a boot packed with a spare change of clothes, lots of fluids and Jam sandwiches. On a warm day I don’t want to be worried about eating warm meat.

I try and drink as much as possible on the drive up, so I’m well hydrated before the walk, leaving me with just a 2Ltr drinks bladder to carry, keeping weight to a minimum.

Also packing a bottle of juice for my return to the car along with a bite to eat.

A lovely Christmas present shows an early start. It's only the second time I've worn it and I only know half it's features, but I'll master it over the coming months.

The drive was two and a half hours from home, traffic was light and went smoothly apart from the police briefly stopping all traffic on the M61 just in front of me for no apparent reason. But we were soon back at 71mph ish and as I drove along the M6 nearing Penrith I could see how low the cloud base was on the Howgill’s. So I knew my little fells today at 5 and 600m would be in mist. 

I planned to park in the National Trust car park at Ashness Bridge and on my arrival at bang on 9:00am the car park was empty. There is two or three small car parks along this very narrow lane, but Ashness Bridge is a fairly large one, and free for NT members.

I was in shorts today, no need to carry waterproof pants, but I did pack my shell and mid layer to add to the 2ltrs of water along with all the other usual bits and bobs.

By the time I’d had a stretch, eaten a banana, booted up, reset my GPS and told myself I’ve locked the car out loud so I’ll remember, it was 9:20am and I was on my way.

After passing the ‘Bark House Mountain Base, which is a bothy staffed by Volunteers for the National Trust as a shelter. A photo of Ashness Bridge is a must do, when visiting here, unfortunately for me, there was no view of Skiddaw in the background as beautiful as the bridge is and pretty narrow I thought as I drove over it. That classic view wasn’t on show today.

Bark House Mountain Base Bothy. Closed this morning

Ashness Bridge

So my first stop would be Walla Crag, and looking at the signpost for Walla Crag and my map, I headed in the opposite direction to the signpost which said ‘Great Wood’ trusting my navigation rather than the tourist trail, which stated 1hr 25mins.

Heading left towards Great Wood

The route up to Walla Crag was nice and steady, although another signpost on my route pointed to Walla Crag with ‘steep climb’ I found it comfortable, but I guess if you had a pushchair it would be a different matter. The path is mostly on a well established stony trail, and lined with ferns, and some cute little flowers, I think they might be Erysimum, but not sure. 

The path was very dry and cracked in places higher up, my walking poles made a hollow sound as they struck the ground, and I was hoping this was a good sign for higher up.

As I gained height, I was a little gutted, as I could see a little of what should be terrific views of Derwent Water and the Islands of St Herbert and Lord’s, I could only see a faint outline of Brandelhow and Cat Bells. I’ve never seen Derwent Water from high up on this side of the lake so it was a real treat, a wow moment.

The dry cracked path to Walla Crag shows signs of things to come 

Looking down at Derwent Water and Lord's and Derwent Isle

The path approaching Walla Crag

On reaching Walla Crag 50 minutes after leaving the car I stayed here only briefly, no point as not a dot could be seen from this big lump of rock which was a shame. I couldn’t see the steep drop below the crag but got a sense of it from the trees of ‘Great Wood’ below and I wasn’t ready for a sit down yet, and drinking from a rucksack bladder means you can keep drinking without stopping to get a bottle out. 
But I could imagine having lunch here, sat admiring the views of Keswick and the surrounding mountains and a glistening lake below......oh well, a short one for another day perhaps.

Walla Crag

As I left the crag I saw a family approaching through the mist from the Keswick direction, probably from Great Wood, these would be only a few of the handful of people I’d see for the next few hours.

The south east towards Bleaberry Fell from Walla Crag

From Walla Crag I couldn’t see Bleaberry Fell and not knowing the central fells very well I took a compass bearing and followed the well trodden stone path towards a steep looking crag in the distance which I mistook for my target. It didn’t matter as it was on my route, and as I got nearer the crag, I could then see Bleaberry further east about the same distance again from Walla Crag. It’s quite funny in mist how without perspective a small fell seems to loom over you and can look huge and steep, as did this fell until I got nearer.

During this section of path walked, I crossed a small pool of water teeming with tadpoles from nearby reeds, I could just see this spot covered with hopping frogs sometime soon, sure signs of how wet this area gets.

 The mist clearing on Bleaberry Fell. 

The fell in front of me was now clearing, as the cloud interspersed amongst the peak tops It now showed me the short ascent to the summit standing at 590m and I was surprised to find a wind shelter to sit in and take a break, although there was no high wind to shelter from, the flies and midges more than made up for any unpleasant weather the shelter was designed for. I’d just got my seat mat out and sat down to eat a boiled egg before it got warm and half a jam sandwich when the little buggers swarmed around me, must have been the heat off my body as sweat was pouring off my brow after the stiff climb. Even though it was misty and overcast, it was very warm and felt at least the forecast of 19-20c Needless to say, I soon packed up my rucksack hoping not to have swallowed one of the few midges which landed on my butty, and set a course SSE, nipped in the process on face legs and arms, “BUGGER OFF!!!” I shouted wafting my hands.........They took no notice.

While laid in a hospital bed, this was a moment I'd been looking forward to, back on a Lakeland summit and a sense of full recovery.

Well this was it, ‘bog zone’ here we come. The path south from Bleaberry Fell is a good one at the start, but then as I descended into what would be pretty bad wetlands normally, the path breaks up.

Yes there was areas of water, even after such a dry May, but this was easily negotiated, but I could also see huge areas of dried deep mud. I say deep, because of the deep boot prints left behind some time earlier. I was almost expecting to find the odd solitary boot abandoned, but no, only the remains of a hard walked mountain top.

The heather covered tops of the Central Fells

Lovely firm mud made the going easy

Eventually I arrived at a stile. On the other side there was no obvious path to follow same as much of the last mile or so, relying on my compass bearing and picking up the path by more luck than skill. But at this stile, someone on social media had told me to turn left and follow the fence line, which I did, and was thankful of the advice as the cloud had rolled in once more and visibility was poor.

I turned left here, having crossed the stile and followed the fence line

A boundary Stone of Manchester Corporation Water Works (M.C.W.W)

marking the edge of their land around Thirlmere stands amongst the Cotton grass.

Turning left following the fence line brought me to another well established path which followed a fence southwards, the fence eventually breaks right and the path runs diagonally to rejoin the fence at a stile. Crossing the stile soon guides you to ‘High Seat’ 608m 

The trig point can be seen as I approach High Seat in the mist

In this kind of weather, sometimes I find the need to verify the altitude at a summit checking my GPS which to be honest, is all I use it for, preferring my mobile app and my ‘proper’ compass to navigate. I don’t trust electronic compasses. I also carry a map which only sees the light of day if it’s raining. But a nice big trig stands on High Seat, so I knew I was standing in the right spot. Problem was as soon as I stopped I was attacked by nipping midges.

The trig standing on High Seat

A few spots of rain started as I left my third Wainwright of the day in as many hours, again heading through dry mud and some boggy sections, quite often pathless, cloud cleared before another wall of clag lined my route, so much for it clearing up in the afternoon.

The rain started to get a little more persistent and although warm, I didn’t fancy getting too wet, so shell jacket went on leaving my pit zips open to stay cool.

Two very welcome posts, bridge the boggy ground, and It was boggy here. Even after the month long drought we'd had. They made the crossing easy.

Again more deep mud to negotiate as I trek south by the fence line, but thankfully dried up.

I arrived at the 515m high ‘High Tove’ at 12:30pm it’s marked by a large cairn. Midges were fewer in numbers here, that could be due to the light rain. I was making good time, I still felt fit, so although the weather was now deteriorating fast, I wanted to visit ‘Armboth’ my 5th summit of the day still and I was going for it.

keeping an eye on my heading as the path becomes a little indistinct on route to Armboth.

Navigation was tricky to this fell as visibility deteriorated and with a faint path which disappeared occasionally, the compass stayed out until I came across the large rock formations. Checking altitude on my GPS confirmed the summit at 479m. Although I did check out a rock a short distance away seen through the mist, just to be sure.

Approaching Armboth 

Armboth summit 479m

Rather than head west to ‘Middle Crag’ and follow the fence line north back to ‘High Tove’ I decided to just retrace my steps back as I knew there was a faint path back to High Tove.

I sat one last time, back on the cairn at High Tove for a jam sandwich without having to share it with Lakeland midges.

Very quickly the rain changed from spitting to a full on downpour. By the time I’d packed my food away, map (it’s raining) and seat mat, my shorts were soaked to the point of translucency.

But the air temperature was still warm and my top half was dry, as I headed west over the nearby stile and down the grassy path to Watendlath.

It was only here, I crossed paths with a couple walking up the fell after 5 miles and the best part of three and a half hours without seeing a soul.

Suddenly I’d dropped out of the clouds, and the view of Watendlath Tarn, the farm and a fantastic looking valley was revealed. The stone path down to the farm was wet and treacherous, it must have claimed a few elbow fractures in it’s time, not to mention other injuries. So a steady descent on the grass edges brought me safely down to the farm.

A beautiful stone bridge spans Watendlath Beck, and from here I watched mountain bikers heading up the steep climb to ‘Great Crag’ and an angler was seen trying to catch one of the many trout with which the tarn is stocked with.

Watendlath Tarn and farm and the slippery path down

The stone bridge over Watendlath Beck

Watendlath Beck just a short distance downstream from the bridge

I crossed the bridge to follow the path down by the water at the head of the beck, following a few ups and downs but then the path almost levels out and becomes a very steady, flattish walk. The rain had now eased off and my shorts no longer clung to my legs as they dried out slowly.

This section along the beck was really pleasant and relaxing as the sound of a cuckoo was overheard above the other singing birds and together with the sound of rushing water from the beck made a perfect end to this walk.

Crossing the beck at a bridge lower down, led me into a woodland heavily shaded with lots of light deprived vegetation, moss and dead trees.

The path brought me out on the lane, for the final part of the walk, it was now mid afternoon, passing a few cottages overlooking Derwent Water, as a finale, the walk produced ‘surprise view’ a fantastic view of Derwent Water, and way below was The Mary Mount and Ladore Falls Hotels, again still murky so not the day to see it at its best, but worth a drive up, just for this on a nice clear day.

On my return to the car park, a guy from the National Trust was in his van, he asked if I’d walked by Watendlath, and was the film crew still there?

I hadn’t seen any, they probably had the day off due to the weather, but what a treat that would have been to see.

I was glad of the change of clothes, even my boxer shorts were wet. So a quick change in the back of the car, a drink and half a pack of jelly babies and I was ready to go.

I’m disappointed now, having done the walk, I picked the wrong day weather wise, and missed the views, especially as the following day, Sunday was glorious again and clear.

However, I picked an excellent time of year to get this done in one. 11 miles through a lot of bog is tough going and I felt I had it easy. Plus a good opportunity to brush up on my navigation skills in the mist. 5 more Wainwright’s walked, and more importantly building my fitness up after major surgery, but maybe I missed the whole point of why Mr A.W added these fells to his list.

The recorded route