Stuc a' Chroin and Ben Vorich

Stuc a' Chroin and Ben Vorich

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Newlands and Dale Head


I could walk thepath by Newlands Beck every day and never grow weary of it.
We gave the customary nod to the lone larch tree. To pass without doing so would be like failing to wave to the Rannoch Rowan.

Hundreds of years ago German miners were extracting copper ore from Dale Head Mine, below the fell's summit. The old track used by the miners is a fine way to the top says Wainwright and although I've often thought of following it, if for no other reason than to see Dale Head Pillar, I never have. Strange that. Next time.
The heat was intense so I filled the filter bottle from the beck shortly before reaching the tarn, replenished the platypus from it, then filled it again in a vain attempt to carry enough water to keep well hydrated.

Reaching Dale Head's large cairn we found an even larger party of primary school children who'd come up from Honister. How lucky to be introduced to this glorious landscape at so young an age.
Usually we continue to Hindscarth and Robinson from here but decided that as it was a number of years since we climbed the first of these by Scope End, we'd do that round later in the holiday and return via High Spy today.

On our way down from Maiden Moor we met three teenagers with huge packs. "Where have you come from"? asked Lynne. "Somewhere from over there", replied the one male in the party, pointing in the direction of Derwentwater.

"I'm knackered. Don't even know where I am", a girl chimed in.
Eventually we established that they'd come over Catbells.
"Where are you headed"? I asked.

"Eh, Seattle", girl says. "Don't think so", I laughed.

They were in good humour and much studying of the map by one of the girls revealed they were going to Seatoller (we'd guessed that!). They were all smiles as we told them that most of the hard work was over. Off they went - a delightful trio.

We were glad not to be carrying heavy packs in such temperatures. Very glad.
Resisting ice cream at Little Town we strolled back through the leafy lanes to our start point near Rigg Beck. Another great day out in the finest of scenery.
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Sunday, 7 July 2013

7 July - Easy day

After yesterday's very hot but easy day on Bleaberry Fell and High Seat, today we took it really easy sitting in the sun doing nothing a.m. then watching Andy Murray winning at Wimbledon p.m.

Fells from tomorrow until the end of the week.

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5 July - Hopegill Head, Whiteside and Grisedale Pike

Yesterday found us enjoying a tour of Dove Cottage and then spending a couple of hours in the Museum. It proved to be a worthwhile way to spend a very wet morning.

Coffee and scones at Grasmere Tea Garden went down a treat in the afternoon and after the ritual of purchasing some Sarah Nelson's Grasmere Gingerbread, we headed back to the site. A quick nip up Walla Crag rounded off the day.

This morning's mist cleared quickly from most of the tops. It could have been 'the old days': not a soul did we see on our way up to Coledale Hause but we knew, of course, that others would be out to enjoy the promised fine weather.

In a sheltered spot high above Hobcarton Gill we stopped for tea. Three figures appeared on Ladyside Pike. Should we go there from Hopegill Head? Whiteside maybe?

Unlike the Munros and Corbetts we did not note the dates of ascent of the 'Wainwrights' as they are now known, but Whiteside must have been an early one - 1973 or thereabouts. Whenever it was, neither of us remembered this delightful, rocky, ridge walk to its summit. The view back to Hopegill Head, and to Grisedale Pike beyond, was grand and we had that very journey to look forward to after a bit of lunch.

This was taken sitting amongst the blaeberry bushes. I removed a tick - my first of the year - from the back of my hand. The return along the ridge had us smiling all the way and in no time at all we were skirting Hobcarton Crag and on our way to Grisedale Pike.

The cold wind had gone. It was hot. How often have those words passed your lips this year?

The top was busy and we moved on quickly to escape the uncommunicative gathering. All remaining liquid refreshments were quickly consumed on our descent but thankfully, cold ginger beers awaited us at the motorvan. The last time cold ginger beer came to our rescue was at the Old Forge in Inverie. Different worlds.

Keswick was going like a fair and we were glad to be passing through.

Harry Griffin wrote, in 1970, of the "growing menace of mass tourism" in the Lake District and that "in places some of the old flavour has already disappeared". What now, forty-three years on?

Martin and Sue. Good to see you are enjoying glorious weather too.
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Thursday, 4 July 2013

3 July - Lake District

We are looking out over the North Western fells, our favourite part of the Lake District. It's always good to be back.

Tomorrow is to be wet, at least in the morning, and since Lynne would like at some point to indulge her love of all things Wordsworth it seems the perfect day to visit Dove Cottage. After that it looks like warm weather almost for the rest of the holiday and fells all the way.

Summer is about to arrive.

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