Lake District Part 3

Helm Crag 
(l of centre with a pimple on it)

HELM CRAG DAY - WEDNESDAY

I'd decided that I couldn't come to the Lakes and not climb at least one hill/fell/crag. My knee was holding up (reasonably) well. Anne was looking forward to a morning mooching around Grasmere and its surrounds and having decided Helvellyn was probably a tad too much, I decided to climb Helm Crag, a rocky promontory just outside Grasmere. At 405m it's comfortably less than half Helvellyn's 950m and several of the near fells like Dollywagon Pike at 858m, but it's still a decent climb and should give good views. And it wasn't far - less than one and a quarter miles in a straight line from the front door, although nothing's straight here. With another roasting day forecast, I decided that setting off early was the best plan, and left the cottage at 6.30am with plenty of fluid with me and a frozen bottle of water in my pack also. Despite a couple of unintentional detours (I had three guidebooks/leaflets and each one gave me a different way), I eventually ignored the one that said "...ignore the path on your right..." and went up it.

Yup - that way

It turned out, this was the right way, but it was immediately steep. Well cut stony steps initially turned my mind to Frodo, Sam and Gollum heading into Mordor in Lord of the Rings although I was rather brighter, and there were no orcs in attendance here. I had to stop for a breather a few times, but eventually the path became more of a rocky track before a final scramble to the top of the crag. 

At the summit!
Grasmere behind me

I'd made it up by 7.50am, not bad going for an old git with a dodgy knee. I had the place to myself, and the views were wonderful. Looking back down to Grasmere I could just see lake Windermere peeking out in the distance. To one side I had the valley we'd climbed to Easdale Tarn, and on the other the fells of Seat Sandal, Dollywagon Pike and beyond, Helvellyn. As I sat there an RAF Hawk screamed up the valley towards Thirlmere BELOW me!

I mooched around for a bit, visiting the rock formation a little further along known as the "Howitzer"   an uncanny resemblance to from certain angles. 

Helm Crag summit with Grasmere behind

A distant view of Easdale Tarn
where we'd been on our first day

The "Howitzer"

Grasmere

After about 20 minutes I saw a woman arrive at the top not far away from me - I'd have said in her 50's, with walking poles and pack. We had an amiable chat and I remarked that it was a steep old climb up. She said "Oh it's not too bad. I was going to climb Dollywagon Pike (a mere 858m remember) but I was doing the cool run so I'm just going along this ridge, round the fell and back down". Turns out she was 61and was walking about 8 miles or so, and for here this was an "easy" day - she went out about 3 times a week apparently!

I left her to crack on, but as the day was still young,  and I was feeling good, decided to follow her route along the ridge for a while rather than head back down. The map (a proper OS map now) now showed me there should be a path I could take down into the valley to return. Ambling along the ridge was sublime. I passed two other walkers (a couple) and that was it. The weather was gorgeous, the views immense and all I had for company were buzzards, jackdaws, a few scraggy sheep, a distant pheasant and a few other birds - plus some annoying horse fly type insects who thought my legs looked a bit tasty. I passed prominences on the ridge called Gibson's Knott, Moment Brow and Moment Crag heading for the Pike of Carrs, wondering how these landmarks got their names, when I came to the path down that I was looking for.

There followed a long initially steep but shallowing decent from the rockiness of the crags, into a wide green valley occupied increasingly by sheep, wheatears and vibrant foxgloves. It was as peaceful as anything - or it was until  a number of F15 Strike Eagles came screaming through  - this time above me - but not by much. Seems like this is a regular loop for them, much like the Mach Loop in North Wales. Indeed they'd been a regular occurrence over Grasmere all week, but too quick  and with me in too much cover to catch the. Here though I heard them coming and set myself up to catch them.

On the walk down

Eventually I cam to habitation and a proper road, albeit still a mile or two from the village, and made my way across footpaths to the Travellers Rest where we'd eaten a couple of days before, for a well earned cup of tea. After a 20 minute walk back into Grasmere, it turned out I'd walked almost 10 miles, but I felt pretty pleased with myself, and even better, the knee was still in one piece.

Anne meanwhile had enjoyed herself bumbling around the village taking it easy and paying a visit to the famous gingerbread shop.

After half an hour icing the knee as a precaution, we wanted up a lane to Allan Bank, once an abode of William Wordsworth, now a National Trust  place, where we just sat in the garden overlooking Grasmere for an hour or so, availing ourselves of free tea, and reading a book in some dappled shade. Very grown up like.

That evening, we ate out at our local, Tweedies, where I had an enormous plate of fish and chips washed down with a couple of very nice beers. 

A very pleasant day indeed.

The best of our Lakes Photo Album (Flickr)

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Lake District Part 2

Windermere with distant Cumbrian hills

ON THE WATER - MONDAY

Well you can't seriously "do" the Lake District without a boat trip on Windermere can you?

We made the short drive into Ambleside from Grasmere (about 10-15 minutes) parking at Waterhead at the northern end of Windermere. We paid for our tickets at a little booth by the pier, taking the "red" offer (a round trip to Bowness-on-Windermere) where we could hop off and then get any red ticketed boat back to Waterhead. 

The views across windermere were fabulous. Less fabulous was the evident scum and algae on the water at the pier. If you weren't aware there is real and valid concern that Windermere's water quality due to sewage means the lake is in danger of dying. Just Google it and you'll be inundated, but here's just one example.  Out in the middle of the lake, this was less evident, but you can't help but see it up close to the shoreline.

Anyway, once out on the water we took the gentle ride on the diesel electric boat Swift down to Bowness - about 5 miles along the 10.5 mile length of Windermere. Boats aplenty adorned the lake along with paddle boarders, kayakers and various wildfowl.

Disembarking at Bowness the sun was doing it's best to roast us, and we headed off to find a cooling iced coffee, which wasn't too hard as the place is festooned with cafes and coffee houses. In all honestly, it was so hot, and so busy we decided not to stay too long, and caught the boat back to Waterhead and Ambleside fairly quickly. The views coming back were even better. 

Tourist boat with the Langdale Pikes behind

Approaching Waterhead with the Fairfield Horseshoe behind

We caught a shuttle (looked and felt like a converted milk float, £2.50pp one way) into Ambleside where we found a spot for lunch at the Giggling Goose cafe. We then walked a few yards and found the rather quirky Bridge house - basically a one up, one down house on a small bridge! We wandered around Ambleside for a bit (lots of outdoor shops and cafes) before calling it a day, walking the mile or so back to Waterhead and picking up the car.

The quirky Bridge House, Ambleside

That evening we'd booked a meal at the Traveller's Rest, a pub about a 20 minute walk along the road from Grasmere. We had a gentle stroll arriving about 30 minutes early for our booking, expecting to have to have a drink before being seated, but were ushered into the small restaurant straight away. It was fairly rustic (think church like pew seats and all used wooden tables), but the food was excellent, the beer exceptional and the service friendly and efficient. The sort of place you'd definitely go back to.

MORE LAKES - TUESDAY

Tuesday dawned like all the days before it. Hot and sunny. We drove towards Coniston before turning off down an increasingly narrow road towards a place called Tarn Hows (why Tarn comes first for once and not Hows Tarn I don't know). Parking at an already filling up National Trust car park, we walked down to the lake. It's an easy walk around on a gravelled and sometimes stony path, and as you come around the far side you get absolutely stunning views of the lake with the fells of the Old Man of Coniston and Wetherlam behind. It took me a good while before I could walk away from such stunning views.

Tarn Hows with the fells of 
The Old Man of Coniston and
Wetherlam behind

We then drove down to a place called Brantwood down more very narrow lanes on the eastern side of Coniston Water, primarily on the recommendation of a few people for it's great cafe, although it's also a house and gardens and the place where poet, artist and writer John Ruskin once lived. We only stopped for the cafe though, and the fruit scones with cream and jam were majestic. From there it was on to Coniston itself, and a walk down to the boating centre on an increasingly hot day. Anne availed herself of the chance to get her feet into the water whilst I took yet more photos of the Old Man of Coniston.

Cooling off in Coniston

After our Coniston visit it was back home, a cool off before nipping out for some drinks - we'd now homes in on Tweedies Bar and Lodge as our "local", not least as it had an enormous beer garden. It did a pretty fabulous range of beers too I might say. A very popular place tools a result.

After dinner we wandered a little more around Grasmere and nipped to St Oswald's Church where William Wordsworth is buried. This is the heart of Wordsworth country and there are at least three places within a mile or two where he lived at various times. 

The grave of William Wordsworth
in Grasmere

So far it's fair to say that we were loving our time in this part of the world. The scenery was of course marvellous, but with the added bonus that you could actually see it, as we'd barely seen a cloud in the sky since we'd arrived.

With my knee feeling rather chipper, (although I was still on the anti-inflammatories and having half an hour icings on it each evening), I'd decided that I was going to attempt to get up a bit (only a little higher), and for Wednesday's excursion I'd set my sights on Helm Crag, a rocky promontory just outside Grasmere, standing at around 405m. Anne had sensibly declined the chance to do this, and was going to wander around Grasmere and do some window shopping and perhaps visit some of the Wordsworth oriented cultural places in the village.

But you're going to have to wait until Part 3 for that...

The best of our Lakes Photo Album (Flickr)

Twitter: @Statto1927 

Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/people/simon_hiscocks/ 

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