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Buoyed by a fine walk the previous day, another hearty fried breakfast and the bonus of Uncle Fester now a member of the team we were mad keen for another day – well most of us anyway. F & J had to return home to collect the kids so the rest of us set off into the hills.

Easedale

After heading west the previous day it was east this time and a route up to Fairfield one of Lakelands better known peaks.

6.2 miles, 3,200 feet of ascent

The classic walk is the “Fairfield Horseshoe” but that starts from Ambleside so we fashioned a route up the Western ridges with a planned return over Seat Sandal. The pace was if anything a little slower than the day before perhaps a result of the previous evenings late adventures, more likely that the advancing years makes 2 days fell-walking on the trot something of a challenge.

Grasmere

It was a chilly morning with some clear patches, another great walking day and again we thanked the gods for smiling on us for the second day in a row.

Helm Crag

We paused by the side of Greenhead Gill to argue about the best way. I wanted to go via Alcock Tarn to see what it was like. We’d walked past it last year but even at the modest altitude of 1000 feet it was in the cloud and pishing with rain so I wanted to see it in the sunshine.

Grasmere, Alcock Tarn in middle left of the shot

I lost and we took a route up via Stone Arthur so Mark could bag another Birkett (any rock, boulder or tussock worthy of a name). As you can imagine there are hundreds of the bloody things and Mark has dragged us over plenty the last couple of years. I’m kidding of course and they have given us the chance to explore some of the lesser known ridges and quieter spots and in the Lakes that’s a blessing.

It was a steep toil up to the top but well worth it with some cracking views all around. We managed to find a relatively sheltered spot for a long early lunch and to contemplate the now relatively easy climb to the ridge and beyond.

Lunch on Stone Arthur

We reached the ridge at Great Rigg where winter really reared its head with a light dusting of snow and biting cold wind. The southern ridge of Fairfield is a real delight, wide, easy angled with open views across most of the Southern and Eastern mountains. I’ve been up Fairfield a couple of times and only once from the south on a damp, misty day back in the 90’s so I was really enjoying this chance to see it properly.

Approaching Great Rigg

Fairfield and Helvellyn

If winter had reared its head on Great Rigg then it bit us on the ar5e on the summit of Fairfield. It was icy cold with a strong biting wind that forced a very swift and hasty retreat off the huge summit plateau. It was a panic of hastily donned hats and gloves. There is always a day at the start of winter when it catches you unawares with your mind still tethered to summer and autumn. The wind snapped that tether.

Fairfield summit

Even though the sky was now heavier with cloud the views were superb with St Sunday Crag looking especially proud above Grisedale. We plunged down the steep and scree covered west slopes down towards Grisedale Tarn.

Grisedale Tarn and Seat Sandal

I mentioned that I’d been up Fairfield a couple of times in the past. My first visit was not my most auspicious day in the hills. That day, 27 years ago we’d traversed St Sunday Crag without incident and after a brief stop on the summit of Fairfield headed off in the same direction as now towards Grisedale Tarn. We were in dense cloud so I dutifully took a bearing and then promptly ignored it. As we emerged from the cloud-base I was a trifle disappointed that the tarn wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I tried to blame it on conservationists filling the tarn in but no-one believed me. After much faffing about (we were a large group of Hiking Club people with me as leader) we found the Tarn having gone too far south and ended up heading down Tongue Gill. I was a little embarrassed to say the least and our plan to take in Helvellyn was over. Still, the worst was behind me or so I thought as we took the broad easy path down Grisedale. I promptly fell over and cut my hand open quite expansively on a sharp rock – I’m looking at that scar now. Humiliation complete and my so-called friends who were with me that day in 1985 and were with me on this day still remind me of it with some measure of hilarity. Gits!

Grisedale Tarn, St Sunday Crag & Fairfield

Back to the present and I recalled every steep scree ridden step of that descent. After a brief and very cold stop at Grisedale Hause we headed up the very steep slopes to Seat Sandal.

Seat Sandal summit

It’s quite an isolated and stately peak yet surprisingly no-one in our little posse had ever climbed it before. Not sure why as it’s a grand hill with great views north to Skiddaw and Thirlmere and south back down to Grasmere. The day had turned a little drizzly and it was still cold so we simply headed down the nice grassy and easy angled ridge that took us pretty well back to our cars at the Travellers Rest. After a some goodbyes and a warming cuppa in the pub it was time to head home

Grasmere from Seat Sandal

You can read Marks alternative view of the day here

Top weekend for one and all, some great walking, a super sunset and cold wintry day on the high fells. Combined with happy companionship of old friends it was as always a weekend to remember

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I love my kids, bless ’em, but there comes a time in every doting mum and dads life where they need some quality time away from their constant maintenance. Born over a few beers in Little Langdale a few years ago the rather weakly punned “Adults Only” weekend has been a great hit for our little band of University friends the past few autumns. A chance for everyone to relax and enjoy a decent walk without spending the whole day encouraging the kids to keep going.

Far Easedale

We returned to the Travellers Inn at Grasmere, a convivial Lakeland pub with nice rooms and great food. I wasn’t encouraged by the forecast but news reached us via ED that Saturday was set to be stonking and that was before EWO had arrived. The old apprentice was right though and the day looked promising as we all faffed about in the car park, which is what forty-something’s do I guess. To the east Fairfield’s ridges towered above us swathed in cloud but to the west the lower rocky hills above Easdale looked clear and bathed in sunlight under a patchy blue sky.

9 miles, 2,700 feet of ascent

Easy choice although I was expecting crowds, Grasmere is a real tourist fleshpot and I imagined numerous fair-weather hikers clad in brand new brightly coloured and rarely used gear cluttering up the paths. That’s the walking snob coming out in me I guess – sorry 🙂

Far Easedale

It had clearly not long stopped raining as the first field was absolutely sodden and the air dripping with misty cloud patches as the sun tried it’s best to dry out the views. The combination of this together with the shafts of sunlight and deep browns of autumn on the hillside was glorious. It’s easy to forget sometimes, amongst the crowds, the tea-shops, cheesy souvenirs and insanely expensive car parks just how beautiful the Lake District is. I’d not really explored Easedale since my university years and its collection of rocky knolls bouncing ghylls and secretive tarns is seductive. With promise of sunshine and a the clarity of the air you get after a period of rain I was really looking forward to the walk as was everyone else. Off the leash they were bounding with enthusiasm, in so much as any of us can bound these days

The Laydees

From the first few strides across the fields it was clear that wet feet was to be the order of day. A landscape can only soak up so much water and the Lake District was clearly full. Every field, path and hollow was smeared in mud and every hollow higher up was oozing bog. Conditions that mandated boots and gaiters so I wore trail shoes and spent pretty much the whole day with light unencumbered, but wet and cold feet especially at the latter end of the day but more of that later.

We paused as ever at the stepping-stones to see if someone would do the decent thing and fall in but despite noisy encouragement even TBF declined to do a crowd pleaser.

No sense of theatre

Frustrated and disappointed we headed off into Easedale as the skies cleared revealing large patches of blue sky squeezed between some rather darker clouds.

Autumnal Ramblers

The light was just fantastic and I gave thanks to whatever greater power was dealing out my good fortune with another spellbinding autumn day amongst a truly appalling spell of weather. Sourmilk Ghyll across the valley was looking every bit its name streaking the hillside.

Sourmilk Gill

Helm Crag over Far Easedale

We took to the path up Far Easedale and turned to head up the knobbly ridge towards Tarn Crag. The path was fine and quiet and draws you up without much effort towards its summit.

The climb to Tarn Crag

Grasmere & Easedale

From below it looks dramatic but up top its just another knoll that scatter this upland region. Most of the tops round there are all around 2,000 feet but the terrain is complex and gives it a tougher feel than its height and close proximity to Grasmere would have you believe. The views across Helm Crag (complete with Rainbow) to Fairfield were just staggering.

Helm Crag, Fairfield, Seat Sandal

The clarity of the light combined with the brown/blue contrast between hillside and sky compelled a rest. So we did. One our party had to return home the same day so we had a longish stop before she had to head down. As always a time for some oft-repeated stories and general mickey-taking for all.

Old people need to rest

Codale Head and Tarn Crag

From Tarn crag the way became much rougher and wetter, hard though that was to imagine. After a brief and light hailstorm we stopped properly for lunch on the slopes below Codale Head. A dark and brooding spot but the views east kept us happy.

Eastern Fells from Codale Head

On to the high point of the day Sergeant Man, a prominent rocky knoll becalmed in a sea of boggy tarns. It was exceptionally wet up here, a challenge to pick your way dryshod.

Sergeant Man

For the first time in the day we saw some crowds. There were are least 20 people milling about near the top and it was suddenly, shockingly and blisteringly cold. The cold front was upon us and the warm air of the earlier part of the day and had turned decidedly wintry. We had planned to take in High Raise but its a bland and boggy top and doesn’t possess the interest and intrigue of the lower hills. No time to hang about so we plodded off along the broad rock studded ridge that leads back to Grasmere. Scrambling about the various rocky piles is a delight and as there were several regular descent options we thought of continuing until we’d had enough and then head down. I was in my element as I love these complex turning ridges with the micro-landscapes of rocks, gullies and little scrambles, each one with its own character and particular views. Pavey Ark and Harrison Stickle were now visible, looking dark and a forbidding cast in complete shadow.

Sunset over Stickle Tarn

From then on we were treated to one of natures light shows. For 30 minutes the sun appeared and disappeared behind stormy clouds and hail showers over Langdale sending shafts of sunlight like searchlights across the sky and illuminating the rocks and hollows where we walked.

Rays of light

Searchlight

Setting sun

We stood in awe and applauded the show. I’ve not seen a sunset quite like that before in many years on the hills. It’s one of those moments that despite the numb cold in the hands you just don’t want to tear yourself away and head down.

All weathers

The sun and the hail

Sunset over the Coniston Fells

Then reality kicks in. You’re 1,500 feet up in the hills, a few miles from the road on a compex ridge with steep descents – and you’ve just watched the sun set, yes SUNSET which normally precedes NIGHT and DARKNESS. You suddenly realise why you haven’t seen a soul in the last hour, they’ve all gone home. And of course you now realise there is not a chance in hell you’ll get back down in daylight across some pretty rough and boggy terrain. Still it was well worth it and how hard can it be. Then you look at the map and realise you have to traverse a countour-less tract called Blind Tarn Moss and you sigh – they didn’t give it that name for nothing. You look at your already sodden and peat stained trail shoes with a knowing look and head for the pub.

Eternal Weather Optimism

So how was it, this treacherous descent through the crags and bog. Well I’ve built it up for dramatic effect as any good writer would, but it was actually great fun (apart from one clumsy oaf who turned his ankle in an extravagant and expletive filled manner on the flat farm track at the bottom of the valley). It was very, very wet and slippery with numerous slips and slides and several unpleasant watery graves for any remaining dry feet but we all had a great laugh and, well, we did have the hillsides to ourself. Actually got me thinking I should do a night hike in the winter. On a clear frosty moonlit night above the trees I reckon it would be rather splendid.

You can read Marks superb write up the day here

Sunset on Great Castle How

Back at the pub by 6 and time for a cheeky pre-evening meal beer to celebrate a fine day of fine views great walking and breathtaking views. Like the party animals we are, we ate and drank heartily (some even stretched to 3 pints) and crawled into bed at the ungodly hour of 11pm.

We’d have to do it all over again the next day – bring it on!