Eskdale, Miterdale and Irton Fell

[nigheandonn]

Sunday morning was another unreasonably early start - not quite as early as I'd hoped, due to the various delays in getting to bed, but it was about quarter past 7 when I set off into a beautiful morning - well worth getting up for. Sunday was the problem day - crossing into Eskdale wasn't too bad at the end of Saturday, but it left me a long way from the Nether Wasdale hills. Still, the only solution I'd come up with was to get up and get on with it.

The first part was by road - along past Boot and the first two stations and a bus company which was stirring early to the George IV inn on the edge of Eskdale Green.

George IV Inn, Eskdale Green

I took the very uphill track past Eskdale Green station and up through the village, where the shop was still shut, since it was Sunday, which was a shame since it had sounded worth having a look at - but at least the public toilets were open.

Another track took me up round a corner and brought me briefly onto the Miterdale road, the only time I've been in that elusive valley.

Miterdale

From here I was onto a forest path, and not sure how clear it would be, but it was well trodden and mostly good, just very muddy in places. Most of it wasn't too steep a climb, either, and the forest road it crossed at intervals made good landmarks.

Great Bank

Where the slope eased off at the top the trees had been felled, so that there was a sense of space and coming out on top even before I crossed the low crest and the west of Cumbria spread out before me.

Over the crest

The climb had been fairly gentle, but the descent was steep and often boggy.

Nether Wasdale

Once I was back on farm tracks I thought the worst was over, but it wasn't, because the last gate to the road was literally in the middle of a pond - and it opened at the left hand side!

Gate in a pond

After the slow descent I'd come out on the road later than I'd hoped even with the late start, but I decided I'd go up to the road round the bottom of the hills and think about it.

So at the foot of Buckbarrow I sat down and tried to figure it out. Part of me was more bothered about getting the hills done than getting out on foot - they're a hell of a long way from anywhere, which is why they're causing these problems.

But my legs really were worn out, and although I was sure I'd measured out the day at 16 miles, which is long but possible, when I started to figure it out again that couldn't be true - I still had the best part of 4 miles to go to Wasdale Head and something like 6 over to Seatoller, and I must have walked 6 miles already. So I decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and turned my back (or at least my side) on the hills and set out for the head of the lake, feeling that Sty Head might be enough work.

Buckbarrow

And even walking up to Wasdale Head turned out to be a slow and painful process, because with my feet soaking wet again the places where the skin had started rubbing off my toes in the endless wet the night before got sorer and sorer.

Still, there were compensations, including the very decorative sky, which looked like someone had been finger painting in it.

Decorative sky

From further down the lake Yewbarrow isn't quite as dramatically pointy, but it did give a lovely clear view of where I'd been - and where I couldn't quite believe I'd been!

Yewbarrow

The shop at Wasdale Head supplied me with plasters and other essentials, and the pub with coffee, and I sat down by the bridge and ate my lunch and patched up my feet before starting on the crossing to Borrowdale.

Wasdale Head bridge

Sty Head surprised me once again by being exactly as difficult as I think it will be - I'm just not used to that. It was still a beautiful day for the crossing, with a much clearer view than the last time - I didn't mean to include Sty Head pictures again, but I can't resist this one of the cat looking up at the rest of the rocks.

Cat Rock

I do enjoy bouncing down the endless steps on the far side - a wonderful change from all the loose shifty stuff I'd been going over for most of the weekend, and the view from Stockley Bridge was just tinged with autumn.

Stockley Bridge

The only problem was the usual bus issues - I missed the 17:20, and the 17:38 (which is the circular 77 route coming from Buttermere) didn't turn up, so I got on the 17:50, which cuts it a bit fine but at least goes straight up the main road rather than round by Catbells.

Only it turned out that there had been an accident to the 77A going round the loop the other way, and the bus I'd got on changed its mind and went rushing back empty to Keswick to become that one, while the very late 77 took all the passengers round the long way - I did just make it onto the Penrith bus by the skin of my teeth, but no thanks to some very slow temporary traffic lights on the outskirts of Keswick - or the driver of the other bus, who almost caused a second accident when we met him flying round the other way!

By the time I got to Wasdale Head I'd figured out two possible ways to reach the missing hills - either the very early Friday morning college day bus from Seascale station to Gosforth, which means the dreaded 5:15 train from Carlisle again but would have the advantage of letting me go over to Black Sail and avoid a) crossing Sty Head again and b) ending up in Borrowdale and being on entirely the wrong side of Haystacks; or a long walk in from Seascale or Drigg (which turns out to be more practical than I thought, as I can just make the last coastal train on Friday night if I can get the 16:12 from Edinburgh...).

So then there was just the task of resisting the temptation caused by the fact that the one weekend I was free at the end of October was the one weekend when there were beds at Black Sail on a Saturday night, because I really was away too much in October (and it would have been a very long walk up from the coast in the dark) - but it was an almost perfect weekend, and left me pining badly for the lakes. The spring is a long time away...

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