
Like countless others, no doubt, I’ve used time in lockdown to work out possible routes for the post lockdown world that are appropriate for my reduced respiratory capacity. Since Wales is still restricted, I’ve concentrated on England, with some routes in the Lake District, some in the Yorkshire Dales. Medical appointments mean I can’t get out immediately, but the fantastic weather we’ve been having is forecast to continue for the foreseeable future, so Thursday is going to be the day. My only concern is the heat: it’s forecast to be the hottest day of the year so far, and with lugubrious timing, Dr Frank has told me just a couple of days ago of a chap who’d collapsed in the heat while doing a charity walk, and only survived because there were a number of paramedics with him!

And he, Dr Frank, isn’t going to be with me this time…

Of the two areas, the Lake District is the more likely to attract the larger numbers, so I decide to start with a round in the Dales. I also decide to go for one of the shorter routes given the lack to time I’ve had in the hills so far this year; which is this:-
With an eye to the forecast temperatures, I plan to do the round clockwise so as to get the steepest climb out of the way at the start of the day while it’s still cool. So getting away at about 3.30am I arrive at my destination: Blindbeck Bridge in beautiful Barbondale – which I’ve never visited before – at just after 6.30am.

A sign informs the world that the new footbridge was built in June 2016 to replace the previous one that was damaged by floods which devastated so many areas of the North West in December 2015.
It’s an absolutely perfect morning, with the rising sun bathing the East-facing slopes of Middleton Fell in the clearest sunlight, and casting long shadows behind every tall rock and tree.

I park up, and enjoy a leisurely breakfast just luxuriating in the wonderful peaceful surroundings. The only other sign of people is a cyclist who rides past just before I set off.
It’s just over 350m ascent to Castle Knott, but I take it slowly and steadily, stopping frequently to catch my breath and enjoy the views to the East and South East. The going is easy on close-grazed turf. The last two Hewitts of the day – Great Coum and Gragareth – are visible throughout.




Within about 5 minutes of my taking this pic they all fly to an East-facing hillside just below the ridge and start feeding. I've no idea what's attracting them to that particular spot, but later I notice a plague of creatures that may well explain it.





Now the plan is to do an out-and-back to Barkin Top in order to get a clear view of the Howgills.




However, about halfway to Calf Top I lose patience and decide simply to cut down diagonally across the valley side; when, once into the descent, I realise that another part of my original thinking in wanting to descend by the wall had been to avoid any possible heather, boulder fields, etc.! Too late


This pic gives a fair idea of how steep the descent is, and also the ascent up to Castle Knott at the start of the walk.

Once at Short Gill Bridge, I take a rest in some shade. A goodly number of cyclists are now taking full advantage of the good weather and we greet each other as they pass. Then it's off towards Crag Hill. But which side of the beck? I choose the right hand side, which, once up the first steep bit of ascent (where there should be waterfalls according to the map, but are none since there's no water running in the beck) I find is the wrong choice, landing me as it does in an extensive bracken field. On the other side of the beck it's just turf, so I cross over. I clearly have been dreaming, because the bracken is clearly visible on the pic above, and indeed it's also clear that it then transitions into heather!!!

As I’ve been looking for a good way to cross over, I’ve gradually become aware of a persistent three note bird call coming from the lower part of the hillside I recently descended, vaguely reminiscent of a gamebird call, but not one I’ve heard before. Now I stop and, getting out my binoculars, slowly and carefully scan the hillside around the direction from which the call seems to be coming. And bingo! There, clear as one could wish in the optic is a red-legged partridge! Brilliant!
https://uk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video;_ylt=AwrJQ4wI1tNeyxQAvi5LBQx.;_ylu=X3oDMTB0ZTgxN3Q0BGNvbG8DaXIyBHBvcwMxBHZ0aWQDBHNlYwNwaXZz?p=red+legged+partridge+call&fr2=piv-web&fr=yfp-t-s#id=5&vid=411d2599a6a8819d82ed245a63bba6a4&action=view

Now it's just a slow trudge up towards Crag Hill across roughish ground that would undoubtedly be quite boggy in many places had it not been for the long dry spell.





Walking along the track, I encounter the first fellow walker of the day - fortunately on the other side of the wall

For the entire day so far, every time I've stopped, or had occasion to look down at the ground, I've invariably noticed many many small caterpillars moving at astonishing speed through the grass. And now I see this: hundreds of the little fellahs sunbathing!!! Later I find a large regurgitation, from some bird I suppose, comprising almost entirely hundreds of these little caterpillars - it looks as if whatever it was ate, and ate, and eventually over-ate.

Anyone have any idea from what moth or butterly the caterpillars come???



Eventually, though, I have to bestir myself. Not that I'm facing anything very strenuous: as can be seen from the pic below, it's an easy stroll of about 4 km along the watershed via Green Hill, to Gragareth.









... and Leck Fell House, before turning north west to follow the long wall adjacent to the house that runs in that direction.

In the background now I'm hearing one of the most romantic of hill sounds, one that takes me right back to my childhood in the dales, where this was the daily accompaniment to life...
https://uk.video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=yfp-t-s&p=curlew+call#action=view&id=8&vid=304f5444b476a9ae1da267bcfc905a10
These birds seem to have become quite scarce in recent decades except on the coast, so it really adds the icing to the cake of what has already been a wonderful return to the hills.

As I expected, there's the trace of a track near the wall, which takes me down to Ease Gill. Here I cross over the beck and follow a track up the opposite side of the valley, which joins the main track to Bullpot Farm on the edge of a small dry valley that leads north to the farm.
From Bullpot farm there's a good track that takes me over the hill and back to Blindbeck Bridge, where I'm parked.

When I get back to Blindbeck Bridge, every bit of verge space contains a parked car, and 30 or 40 people are sat on camping chairs next to, or splashing in the beck. What a change from this morning!
Since all establishments of cultural, historical and architectural distinction are still locked down, I have brought a can of minerals-rich tonic, and I sit in the sun and enjoy it for a quarter of an hour, before heading back home.


It's great to be back in the hills again
