Helvellyn

During our walk on Snowdon back in April, Andy expressed his love of The Lake District and talked in particular about the handful of peaks he’d climbed. One of which he was so keen to show me........Helvellyn, the third highest mountain in the Lake District at over 3,000ft even it’s name is filled with menace, danger, and adrenaline filled adventure. Okay it’s not Everest, K2 or Lhotse, but for someone who until recently only got to the dizzy heights of Kinder Scout it was a big deal for me.

Of coarse Andy would choose the one route he’d done with his father-in-law, climbing up to the ‘Hole in the Wall’ (a stile) from Patterdale before tackling the eastern ridge of Striding Edge to the summit. Then returning on the more northern ridge of Swirral Edge. For a good while I thought Andy was telling me it was ‘Squirrel Edge’ we’d be returning down, then back tracking back to Patterdale, clocking up just over 8 miles.

I completely left the planning of this day to Andy as he expressed his knowledge of the mountain. We were camping at Ullswater Holiday Park, Andy and I had decided our families should meet for the weekend, and spend a little time together.

It was a beautiful warm August morning in the Lake District, and we were all up by 7am. 

As Andy and I would be out for the day, our wife’s had planned a modest lowland walk near Keswick, then some shopping. 
Andy drove the car to the White Lion pub in Patterdale arriving about 9am, I had new boots again today, Meindl Borneo’s this time, believing they were a better fit than the ‘Burma’s’ I’d walked a few miles in them before the weekend and I felt a repeat of Inglebourgh wasn’t on the cards. Andy remembered his boots this time.

We set off from the White Lion back along the A592 and turned left at the cricket ground to follow the lane up by Grisedale Beck to a bridge.

Andy was really excited about today, I think I was more nervous at this point than excited. Andy was talking to me about the Wainwright mountain list, I’d heard of Alfred Wainwright, but didn’t really appreciate what he was about, what he stood for, and I didn’t know he had a list of mountains.

At this moment in time, I wasn’t ticking off Wainwright fells. I’d done Cat Bells with my wife but unfortunately we were heading for Helvellyn only, we could have planned in Birkhouse Moor and Catstye Cam, but this was Andy showing me Helvellyn, he had no interest in ticking off a Wainwright list, but nor was I bothered at the time.

Once at the bridge that crosses the beck in Grisedale, we could see our route, a steady straight path climbing above Patterdale Common. From here the skyline of Nethermost Pike and Dollywagon was ahead, and to the south, Birks and St Sunday Crag. 

The view up to the Striding Edge ridge

Although the air was fresh, as it was early. The forecast was excellent, warm and dry.

Andy wisely elected to wear shorts from the off, but I was a bit slow realising it was going to be a warm day, so zipped off my trouser leg bottoms low down in the Grisedale valley, before the real hard work started. 

I think we over packed for today, carrying waterproofs amongst other gear was unnecessary and made the climb up to ‘The Hole In The Wall’ a much harder one needing more than a couple of stops to get heart rates down and take on fluids.

Andy posing above Grisedale

Looking back towards Patterdale

The Hole in the wall is a mere stepped stile, but it’s not an ordinary stile, because the view from this stile looking into the direction of Helvellyn is fantastic, and the anticipation of Striding Edge.

The mountain holds out it’s two welcoming ridge arms. I hardly noticed Catstye Cam to my right, Swirral Edge looked exciting but my eyes were drawn to Striding Edge.

Andy’s enthusiasm was clear to see, he’d scrambled over Striding Edge before. 

I was excited yet apprehensive, walkers lose their lives every year on this ridge, so I felt a little cautious. 

The ridge was busy with walkers as you’d expect on a beautiful summers day so climbing onto the ridge at Low Spying How meant waiting in a small queue as it was difficult to pass a group of youngsters who were at best sluggish, but mainly static. Andy wasn’t keen on this, he didn’t want holding up and I felt a little cheated out of the early part of the ridge, and missing the Dixon Memorial. 

A closer look at Swirral Edge

Catstye Cam

Having walked the path on the right of the ridge with some gusto, Andy and I finally joined the ridge ahead of the young group, just before we were level with Red Tarn. Walking poles were put away, and I remember Andy stressing to me “three points of contact” I felt very comfortable on the rock, the apprehension disappeared and the whole experience started to feel exciting. 

Yours truly getting to grips with Striding Edge

Patients Andrew

There was no pressure to manoeuvre over the rock from people behind just because of the numbers on the ridge, as they were spread out most of the time, however queues would form at the more challenging spots where extra care was required, as it did when we arrived at the ‘Chimney’ after about a ten minute wait, it was my turn, following Andy. 

Although I could feel eyes weighing up my choice of foot and hand holds, I thought the climb down was smooth and easy enough. another scramble followed and we were soon off the ridge High Spying How and onto the last steep climb on loose rock and gravel which was difficult with now tired legs.

The Chimney

The last steep pull up to the summit

A memorial to Charles Gough sits close to the summit. It’s believed he fell and was killed in 1805. His dog stayed by the body. The body and dog were discovered by a shepherd three months later. The event was later put in a poem by William Wordsworth called ‘Fidelity’

Once at the summit, it was time to have a break. The purpose built stone walled shelter was occupied so we sat on a patch of grass and just absorbed the surrounding mountain view. I couldn’t really recognise any of the distant mountain names to the west, nor could Andy, it didn’t matter, it wasn’t any less beautiful, but probably amusing to anyone listening to us guessing what they might be while we munched on a sandwich.

As I looked at the broad summit, I was trying to imagine the biplane that landed here in 1926, amazing achievement.

Helvellyn trig point 3,117ft 

Red Tarn

Summit break over, my legs had recovered from that last gruelling climb up. My boots still felt good and I was ready to go.

Having traversed along the broad Helvellyn top, we arrived at the head of Swirral Edge along with a number of people, a well established path, but pretty steep initially. Again care was needed negotiating this higher section.

Steady and careful descent of Swirral Edge

Looking back up at Swirral Edge

From here Catstye Cam would have been so easy to summit as a path peels off to its summit, but Andy had other ideas. When we got to Red Tarn, a guy was just getting out of the water after a swim in the freezing cold lake. We thought he was mad, but apparently this ‘tarn swimming’ is a popular pastime, and to be fair, it was quite warm.

Red Tarn and the departed swimmer (right)

From the tarn, it was a short easy walk back to the ‘Hole in the Wall’ I had a touch of cramp in a calf muscle, nothing much but didn’t want any problems up here. Andy and I now returned back tracking down the long straight path which would take us back to Patterdale.

A last look back at Helvellyn

The final mile of just over eight

Once at the A592, it was a short walk along the road which meant passing the Patterdale Hotel. Outside were scores of walkers sat outside drinking in groups. That would have been nice to have had a pint in the sunshine amongst walkers, but we had arranged to meet our families and prepare a BBQ back on the campsite which we did, accompanied with beer and wine and an excellent evening was had by all.

It was an excellent days walking, and I was grateful to Andy for showing me Helvellyn, but I was beginning to feel I needed to look at new avenues to get the fulfilment I needed. I know I’ll return to Helvellyn, walking my own route at some point in the future, and visit the Dixon Memorial.

Inglebourgh

So today it was Andy’s turn to choose where we were walking. His choice was Inglebourgh, one of the Yorkshire three peaks. We would be walking out of Clapham on a 10 mile route to the 723m peak.

After my boots came apart on Snowdon, I had invested in a pair of ‘Meindl Burma’ boots and I was still wearing them in, but I was having some issues with the fit.

I arrived at Andy’s house on time, but he was late up and rushing around with an arm full of gear. He quickly packed the last few pieces he needed into his rucksack and having thrown the gear in the car, we were soon motoring up the M66 heading for Yorkshire in the beautiful warm July sunshine.

Arriving in Clapham for the start of the walk, I parked in the main tourist car park. 
Both Andy and I started to change our footwear, then Andy realised he hadn’t brought his boots! In the rush to get his gear together, he’d forgotten to put them in my car.

Fortunately he was wearing trail shoes, not the flip flops Andy wears from time to time, so he was happy to walk in his shoes as we'd had dry weather and didn’t expect too much mud, I certainly wasn’t driving back for them. But the boot issues wouldn’t stop there.

We followed a path out of the narrow village lanes by Clapham Beck, a flat easy start towards Trow Gill passing Inglebourgh Cave. It was a busy route with a few folk walking along it.

The sunshine didn’t last long and it was now overcast, but thankfully the cloud stayed high, allowing good views from Inglebourgh summit.

Trow Gill is a wonderful little gorge with a very easy scramble at the top. Andy had no problems in his shoes. The gorge leads to open country at Clapham Bottoms.

We passed Gaping Gill. But due to being held up earlier with Andy’s late packing, and Andy needing to be home early evening, there wasn’t time to detour and explore the entrance to the pothole as we were late starting, which I was a little miffed about.

However, I had more concerns with my boots as we started the initial climb up to the cairn at Sware Gill Head.

My boots really started to feel tight on the sides, possibly with the weight of my rucksack I’m thinking my feet have more spread and the boot fitting now feels too narrow. 

On reaching the summit of Inglebourgh, excellent views out to Whernside in the north, Pen-y-ghent to the east, and great views out to erm.....Yorkshire. I didn’t know Yorkshire very well.

We got a chance to sit down and have some lunch in the summit shelter, a marvellous construction of a good solid wall with extra long stones protruding out providing seating.

Once eaten we set our bearings to NE from the trig point, you can very easily lose them on the very broad peak and end up walking off in the wrong direction. As Andy and I departed the plateau, a marshal, presumably part of Three Peaks Challenge officials in his bright luminous jacket stood by a check point station.

It was a reminder we were joining this well known route for a short while.

Now joining the Three Peaks route down the side of Simon Fell heading East, these paths we’d been on all day were well established ones, stoney and hard but unforgiving if your feet are sore, and my feet were getting pretty uncomfortable.

When Andy and I got to Nick Pott, we took the shorter option turning right, and heading for the limestone rock formations this place is famous for.

We’d been walking for 7 miles now and I really wish I’d forgotten my boots not Andy. We passed ‘Long Scar’ and we arrived at Trow Gill. The pain in my feet was getting too much 
I stopped, took off my boots and had two Paracetamol tablets.

We still had another 2 miles to walk to the car, so after a ten minute foot massage, my feet felt a bit better, until I put my boots back on, no blisters just hot spots under the foot......burning!!!

There is a long old Roman road from here walled both sides, It seemed to take forever to walk that 10th mile, it was the longest 2 miles I have ever done. An important lesson learned. I still have many more in front of me, I'm just hoping they're not all as painful as this one.

I was in too much pain to take any photos, but once the boots came off back in the Clapham car park, they really didn’t feel too bad, and I was able to drive without any problems, reuniting Andy back home with his boots on time. . 

Andy was fine in his shoes, not a lot of mud as we’d had some dry weeks. Just goes to show. The Meindl Burma boots were never worn again as they were returned to the store with a........fault.

Snowdon

A year had passed since the Kinder winter walk. I’d continued to walk the more familiar modest routes in the Peak District, and even climbed Cat Bells, my first Wainwright in the Lake District. So with a renewed enthusiasm, and now walking in all weathers, I’d used map and compass for years and was fairly confident using them to navigate farmland and modest hills, but I was still a bit uncomfortable navigating in low cloud which is where I lacked the confidence to strike out on my own up mountains. 

But I wanted testing and gain experience, I wanted something a bit more exciting. 

I decided to improve my kit by ditching the £15 decathlon boots for a pair of ‘North Ridge’ boots from Go Outdoors, I had no idea they were the stores own brand, but they felt comfortable, and paid about £60. I'd tried them out in the Lake district and was happy with them. The tea cosy also went, replaced by a Berghaus fleece hat. New rucksack from Mountain Warehouse and Berghaus trousers. I also invested in a pair of Trekmates gaiters.

And my rucksack kit was slowly building, adding a first aid kit and emergency shelter plus a whistle.

After doing some research on Snowdon, Andy my work colleague and I agreed to climb the mountain, and if we were, we’d do it from the lowest start point so we would climb the full height. Crib Goch aside the ‘Watkin Path’ is the most difficult of the classic routes up to the summit. We’d return via the south ridge. But even though our mountain experience was minimal I felt the route wasn’t a problem.......We were naive but lucky.

It was early April, Andy was driving so he picked me up early morning. He’d asked me to bring my 3 man tent, just in case he felt he couldn’t drive home later in the day due to fatigue, as he hadn’t done much walking for a while, so I did.

We arrived at the Nant Gwynant car park about 8.30am. It was a cold morning, with broken cloud showing some blue skies but a little breezy. The northeast wind was forecast to build over the day but also brighten up as the day progressed. We couldn’t see Snowdon from here, so didn’t really know what the conditions were like up there.

Ready for the off

After getting kitted up with boots and rucksacks strapped on, Andy and I crossed the A498 and into the ancient woodland of Hafod y Llan, at only 60m in altitude and followed the quarry path up towards the Cwn Llan valley on the ‘Watkin’ path, where it soon opens up.

The path was extended to the summit from the quarry by Sir Edward Watkin, and was opened to the public by William Gladstone in 1892.

Once out of the woodland the path bends to join the river of Afon Cwm Llan and it’s splendid water falls, before the path passes the old quarry buildings and the Gladstone rock, which commemorates the paths opening. From here the valley really opens up and this is where some of the filming of ‘Carry On Up The Khyber’ took place.

Looking back down the Watkin Path

The South Ridge ahead, and Craig-ddu blocks the summit view.

Andy adjusting his rucksack

The Snowdon summit was out of sight still at this point, blocked by the rocky crag of Craig-ddu but looking up at the south ridge on the far side of the valley, which was our return route. The rock looked slightly white near the top. 

It was only when a guy came down the path towards us, Andy and I said hi and ask what the conditions were like up there, the guy told us it was slightly slippery due to the ice !!!

The ridge of Bwlch Main and the hidden Snowdon summit

This was a bit of a concern as we didn’t have the gear for winter conditions. I was walking in North Ridge boots and the sole looked to be parting from the leather already. 

As the path bends around the Craig-ddu, it leaves the Afon Cwm Llan. 

The Snowdon summit then comes into view, or in our case not so much, as low cloud hung over the peak.

The path now gets steeper, and plenty of stops for a breather are needed, as we gain height passing 800m we look back on ourselves, and fantastic views to the south as far as Porthmadog and Tremadoc Bay could be seen.

Views down to Porthmadog

The little peak of Yr Aran to the left of the South Ridge

It was about this point, having spotted a small group of walkers in front of us, we realised where the route of Watkin was taking us. The scree of Bwlch y Saethau looked pretty serious, a diagonal path that looked like it was on a cliff face. 

The good news was the ice looked to be melting in the early sunshine so that wasn’t such a concern now, Andy and I discussed our options and whether we should be taking this last section on.

The diagonal path can be made out from right to left. the summit still in cloud

In the couple of hours we’d been in the valley, we were protected from the wind, but as we neared Bwlch Ciliau, we could hear the roar of wind flowing up the rock face of Y Lliwedd and it sounded extremely intimidating.

At Bwlch Ciliau the path turns left again  and levels out a bit, as it follows the ridge line.

Andy and I left the path to have a careful look over the edge of the ridge, I say careful, it’s a long drop from here if the wind takes you!!!

From here we could look across to Crib Goch and Garnedd Ugain and below us the Pyg Track and Miners Track, and the lakes of Llyn Llydaw and Glaslyn.

A short easy stretch of walking and we were soon at the foot of Bwlch y Saethau and to be honest, although steep, the path really didn’t look too bad. It looked totally different from here, we’d come along way to turn around at this point, and we both felt happy to continue, especially as the summit was now cloud free.

The wind was still strong, so we decided to have some lunch here in the shelter of the ridge, rather than a blustery summit option. Refreshed from a sandwich, boiled egg and a hot coffee from Andy’s flask we were ready to go. 

We followed the path as best we could but very quickly the path almost disappears, and we lost it in the boulders and scree. So we were left to negotiate some tricky rock face, picking the path up higher up.

It was almost impossible to see a route above us through the loose boulders and needed to retreat back or sideways a couple of times from unclimbable routes.

I was just thankful the cloud had lifted. Andy and I knew we needed to keep to the left so we were able to pick the path up again, going too far to the right leads to dangerous crags. 

In 2006 I read a walker died in this area, so caution is needed and it was a relief when we spotted the path again and got off the scree. I’m not sure if it was with relief but once on the path, Andy was almost in a state of collapse.

The Watkin route intersects with the Rhyd Ddu path that runs along the Bwlch Main, from here it’s just a 200m climb to the summit, but it was a 200m stagger for Andy, and I was worried.

I could smell smokey coal burning, I knew it was the Llanberis train arriving at the summit carrying countless folk here, but the strangest experience for me was walking towards the Hafod Eryri cafe.

10 minutes earlier I was trying to navigate out of a potential dangerous situation, I’m sweaty tired, my gaiters are half down my shin, my hat is the wrong way around with ‘Berghaus’ on the back and I couldn’t care less.

Now I’m walking passed pockets of snow on the ground, it’s freezing, windy and flakes of snow float in the air.

In front of me are people sat behind a glass window with t shirts on eating beans on toast or something, while sipping tea with immaculate hair, it was just surreal.

There are five classic routes up Snowdon, and not all are as quiet as the Watkin. Add to that, visitors by the Llanberis steam train arriving full of passengers, it makes for a very busy summit at times.

Andy wasn’t too impressed with the number of people up here either.

He found a rock to sit on just below the trig point to try and recover.

The worse part of the day should have been the best, standing at a summit is always special, but standing in a queue on steps, waiting my turn to visit the true summit of Snowdon in a crowd at 1,085m was an anticlimax and my moment at the trig point was one of the briefest of moments, not wanting to over linger there.

In a blink of an eye I was back below the man made pinnacle. Andy didn’t even bother going up there, it was so busy. Every spot out of the brutal wind around the summit, the cafe and even the station wall was taken with walkers resting while trying to hold on to their lunch. 

We got the only opportunity for a photo below the trig point, then Andy shouted in the wind to get going. He had recovered sufficiently enough to carry on, which was a relief.

A few snaps were taken of the clear views around us before we made our way south onto the Bwlch Main, following the Rhyd Ddu path. We never saw the train, even though we smelt it. It must have been departing as we arrived.

Still a bit of ice and snow but nothing to worry about

Looking West towards Llechog

The wind was still strong leaving the summit, Bwlch Main has a couple of exposed sections and a slightly squeaky bum moment passed while passing one such place, it’s a long way down Cwm Tregalan.

Bwlch Main and the Rhyd-Ddu Path

We continued along the ridge, admiring the superb views of the surrounding Snowdonia mountain range and down to the Watkin path, our whole morning in one view down there. The ridge initially was a nice steady descent. As the Rhyd Ddu splits to the right down to Llechog, we continue down the South Ridge and from here the rocky ridge gets steeper, lots of fun with hands on in places. 

Andy was pretty shattered by now, and when I asked about plans for home, he told me he was too tired to drive.

So it was a good job I brought the tent.

As we descended the south ridge, we were out of the wind a bit more, the sun was out, and just perfect for a stag doo party.......

I rubbed my eyes in disbelief as a party of lads came climbing towards us. Now this wouldn’t be unusual if it wasn’t for the fact one of them was wearing a full wedding dress!!!

Andy and I couldn’t help but stop the group when we met, to ask where they were going. “To the summit” one of them replied. We felt the need to warn them of the wind higher up, and wearing a wedding dress might not be the safest attire to wear climbing a mountain.

A guy pipes up, not to worry, he was a mountain guide, and he would make sure the dress was removed at an appropriate time. Andy and I looked at each other with dismay, but left them to get on with it.

My only regret with this meeting is that I didn’t take a photo. 

We were soon down the last steep section of the south ridge, climbing Yr Aran was never on the cards, we just weren't fit enough, we were happy rejoining the Watkin Path before returning to the car.

The North Ridge boots were Knackered, and I returned them to Go Outdoors. I got a refund, bought some Meindl Burma boots adding some cash to them.
Find out how I got on next time on the hills.

Driving down the road we parked up at the Cae Du campsite. Absolutely no problem booking in with loads of space to camp.

Tent up, quick shower and a walk into the nearby village of Beddgelert. We had a meal at the Saracens Head which was very nice and poured over the days events in the Tanronnen Inn with a couple more pints. A whiskey back at the tent for Andy. A last look up at the amazing stars on show in the black sky of Snowdonia then time for bed.........zzzz