I don't think of heather as being a particularly Lake District plant. I think of it primarily as Highlands and, if pushed, Peak District. I included heather in the colours for my Dancing on the Fells blanket, but wasn't entirely convinced. I'm obviously wrong here - just look at the Skiddaw massif in August - and need to reprogamme myself. I decided it was time to walk up Skiddaw, partly in search of the heather, partly to see the view of the fell from the firth, partly to walk one of the high fells for the first time: my first Furth.
The radio news show is discussing distractions from taking a hands-free phone call – but what about distractions from seeing a buzzard take off and hover over the field beside the road? The first autumn skein of geese flying in? The mountains on a beautiful early autumn morning? Entering the National Park, the view of the back of Skiddaw causes me to pull off the road just to look at it.
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| Autumn morning Skiddaw |
On the last stretch of the road to the car park, a Temporary Road Surface sign, which I don’t place too much store by. I had forgotten: when I was a child I thought “temporary” meant “bumpy” because in Cumbria, a temporary road surface was a lumpy one. In this case, “temporary road surface” means “not much road surface at all”. It’s obviously a post-Desmond issue – but having experienced some post-storm roads in Africa, that one really ranked up as a strong contender for the worst road surface I’ve ever encountered. And I encountered it too fast, not having interpreted the sign correctly. Swearing followed.
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| Temporary road surface |
I assumed that before 9am was early enough to still be able to park , but the parking area was close to full already, noisy and smelling of bacon cooking. The British junior hill-running championships were due to start around 10am. Not only do you need to check the fell weather forecast when planning a trip to the high fells, but also the fell running forecast (and I don’t have a twitter link for that). The marshals have arrived now to set out the course, which is exactly the route I will be taking, as far as Skiddaw Little Man – solitude and serenity will be in short supply today.
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| Shepherd's memorial |
500 metres of the 720 of ascent are in the 3km between the car park and Little Man summit, and getting them out of the way at the start dealt with high fell anxiety - can I do it? Yes, no problem!
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| Central fells with heather | Derwent water without Keswick |
The walk book says: “Little Man is a great lunch spot with awesome views”. My instant response to the word 'awesome' is, eugh, horrible devalued word. And then I realise it's not being used tritely here: if that’s not awesome, what, in England, is? If we don’t now call those views awesome, is that because we’ve seen too many other higher mountains in other countries? Yes, that view is awesome.
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I feel a hymn coming on.
O Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works Thy hand hath made.
... When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the beck and feel the gentle breeze:
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Yes, I did stand on top of Skiddaw south summit momentarily surrounded by no one and sing part of a hymn out loud. I'm not actively religious these days, but I love the big old hymns. Methodist upbringing.
About 11am, a little later than the forecast had said, low-flying clouds arrive, moisture steaming of the mountain's flanks and forming into small eddying clouds. Along the broad sweep between the south summit at the to summit they sweep up form western flank, cutting off the view. I've encountered this in the Julian Alps but I haven't explored my own back yard to meet it here before.
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| Inversion over Bassenthwaite lake | Westwards |
The final approach to the summit is increasingly crowded as people come up from the other faces. Some are clock-watching; one father and daughter couple have a chat while they catch their breath, ask my to take a photo of them with their hands on the trig point, and hare off in another direction. I don't understand the attraction of peak-bagging. I understand the completist aspect, of course, but not the enjoyment of doing it. I want the time to stop and wonder, not to tick off the next summit. I'm only here today for the curiosity of the high fell and the desire to see the firth from here; really I'd rather be over there in the much quieter, but lower, back o'Skiddaw fells, with the wheatears and the last swallows of summer.
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| Salehow beck/River Caldew | Towards Skiddaw house YH, with heather | Salehow beck/River Caldew |
The clouds are still largely obscuring my village, so I hide out in one of the summit sheepfolds away from the crowds, eat my lunch and wait for it to lift.
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| Firth from Fell over Skiddaw flank | Firth from Fell over Skiddaw north |
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| Firth from Fell with Blencathra |
As I pass Little Man from below on the return leg, the unmistakeable sound of a helicopter. In King's Cross there are police helicopters every night – that's situation normal. And for the year and a bit before the migration the London hospital I worked in had a helipad on the roof - a helicopter is bad news but situation normal. In Cumbria – bad news, not situation normal. The air ambulance circles once then lands carefully just over the saddle behind Little Man, and it’s the best part of an hour before it takes off again.
Lonscale Fell is much more deserted than the Skiddaws, and the day is getting hotter. After soggy bog on the way, what looks like bog around the east summit turns out to be dry and cushiony - very comfortable for September sunbathing. As is the heather mattress a little further down - mostly finished flowering, but springy and comfortable. Although the 45 degree angle might make sleep tricky.
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| Derwent water with bog pool | Lonely fells |
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| Glimpsing Thirlmere over heatherbed |
Across the valley, there are ten parascenders hanging out. From my heather bed I'm reminded of a former colleague's story. On a countryside adventure with a partner, they decided to take advantage of the solitude (and no doubt the heather bed) to get intimate. They didn't notice the parascenders - but the parascenders noticed them. As they found out in the pub that evening. Blushes.
After a steep barefoot descent, I'm surprised to see a huge number of cars parked - they seem to have overflowed the designated parking area and parked in a field, surprisingly. The path swings back a bit to cross Whit beck, taking the cars out of view. After crossing the beck, I'm approaching the corner which will give on to the car park when I suddenly hear a galloping sound. A moment later, a pack of hounds turns the corner towards me at full tilt. As a child I read that if confronted by a stampede of elephant, the correct procedure is to stand still pretending to be a tree (I was never sure whether I should stick my arms out or not) and the short-sighted elephants would just go round you. This also works with Lakeland foxhounds.
Note: Six hours. Baseline 5hrs for 13km plus 700m of ascent; add half an hour waiting for the cloud to lift to see the firth and half an hour sunbathing in the heather.
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