Clarkie's attempt on the Helvellyn Ridge
Tuesday 26th August 2014
Well the original intention was to walk from Ambleside to Keswick or at least to the A591 just south of Keswick. This was going to take the best part of 2 days, so the first problem was where could I leave the car for that amount of time. The solution to this was to park at Windermere Railway Station which would cost me £8 or so for two days and then catch the 555 bus from Windermere to Ambleside.
I drove up Tuesday evening. Quite late Tuesday evening as it turned out, because by the time I arrived in the Lakes it was about 10:00pm
Anyway I know a few places where the long distance lorry drivers sleep overnight and I parked up there, reclined the driver's seat and got some kip.
Wednesday 27th August 2014
I was awake bright and early Wednesday morning. The first order of the day was breakfast, which was some Wheetabix and hot milk, plus a nice cup of coffee. I used my little Coleman F1 Lite stove for this as I was saving the Trangia (and the fuel) for the walk. Once I had eaten breakfast, I packed everything I would need into my large rucksack, putting things that needed to be kept dry (the sleeping bag, mattress, etc) in my 35 litre drybag. This would keep things dry even if I fell in a river or something. Once I was packed, I headed of in the direction of Windermere.
I arrived in plenty of time at the Railway Station and found a good parking spot. Paid for 3 days (just to be on the safe side) then got my gear together
and then walked over to the bus stop, which is also at the Railway Station. The 555 bus was already at the bus stop and I got on and paid for a single to
Ambleside. Bloody Hell! £4 to get to Ambleside. It's only 5 miles down the road! I supposed I could have walked it, but I wanted to get a reasonably early start
and not wear myself out unnecessarily. So £4 it is then.
So out of Ambleside heading north via North Road, then Smithy Brow (the road to the Kirkstone Pass) and then up Nook Lane. This is a tarmac road until you reach Nook End Farm at which point it becomes a track. The track continues over Low Sweden Bridge and then up through Low Sweden Coppice and eventually past High Sweden Bridge and up towards Low Pike. I'm taking it nice and steady up here, because it is uphill all the way until you get to Fairfield. I get past Low Pike and on to High Pike. There are some superb views from here over Scandale Beck in the valley below.
Scandale Beck
I crack on and eventually I reach the top of Dove Crag. Dove Crag is fairly unremarkable, apart from one feature. It has a cave known as "Priest's Hole". It's a bit pokey, but it is entirely possible to spend the night in there and indeed people do quite often. Not today though!
 View east from Dove Crag |
 The way ahead to Hart Crag |
 Summit of Hart Crag |
After a bit of refreshment I carry on to Hart Crag. There is a bit of downhill section before a short climb up to Hart Crag. I would call this a "col". There is another col before you reach the summit of Fairfield. Superb views down the Rydal horseshoe from here.
The Rydal Valley. I have come up the left hand ridge.
Eventually I reach the summit of Fairfield. More stunning views from here and I stop a while and soak up the scenery. Well as nice as it is up here, I can't stay up here all day. Fairfield is the highest point in the Rydal Horseshoe and the only way is down. Most people are heading south down the west ridge, but not me. I'm going north and down to Grisedale Tarn.
 Cairns mark the route to Fairfield |
 JC on Fairfield |
 The correct route down |
I set off along the obvious footpath and keep an eye out for the tarn below. Eventually I spot it, way over to the left. Now that makes no sense! From my studies of the map I know it should be over to my right if anything. Damn! Time to check the map then. It turns out that I'm coming down Deepdale Hause, which is entirely the wrong direction. So a bit of back-tracking is in order and eventually I locate the correct path which will take me down to Grisedale Hause. The path is both steep and covered in scree. One or the other I can cope with, but a combination of the two I find difficult. I make use of my walking poles and take it very easy down this section. Bizarrely about 100m from Grisedale Hause it becomes a proper block path and I can make reasonable progress.
 Grisedale Tarn comes into view with Dollywaggon Pike on the right |
 JC at Grisedale Tarn |
 Grisedale Tarn from the head |
There is a path (of sorts) that goes clockwise round Grisedale Tarn, but I don't like the look of it much. I opt for the anti-clockwise path that takes me to the head of the tarn. Eventually I reach the outflow and I decide this is a good place to stop for a break. I drink plenty of water and consume some energy bars. I used to faff around making sandwiches and all that when I went out on a walk. Apart from the time consuming effort of making sandwiches, they also take up quite a lot of room. These days I don't bother. I just cram the rucksack pockets full of energy bars and eat them instead. I have a main meal sorted for the evening anyway, so these will keep me going until then.
It's about 4:00pm. There are a bunch of oiks (a.k.a teenagers) up here who have been faffing about for the last half an hour. 4 lads and 2 lasses. Anyway they stop faffing and start erecting some tents. It's 4:00pm! What are they going to do for the rest of the evening? Actually it's probably best not to ask. It's 4:00pm and that means another 4 hours of daylight. Frankly I don't want to share a camping spot with the oiks (they are annoying me already). I have 4 hours of daylight left and I can get quite a way in 4 hours.
 Grisedale Tarn from Dollywaggon Pike |
 This is a nice path |
 The "Post"! |
So off I go again, still heading north, up to Dollywaggon pike. The path is steep, but it is well paved apart from the flatish sections. I keep on climbing. On the map, the path flattens out at a point on the map where it says "Post". I have no idea what sort of post this is, but I guess I will know when I reach it. Anyway suddenly the path flattens out and I come across a cast iron post about 4 feet high. Well that will be the post then!
I carry on, skirting round the back of High Crag. You get good views here down Ruthwaite Cove to Hard Tarn and Patterdale Common. I'm not sure why it is called Hard Tarn, but looking at the map I imagine that it is hard to reach it.
 Nethermost Pike |
 Ruthwaite Cove (Hard Tarn on the left) |
 Helvellyn!! |
I skirt round the edge of Nethermost Pike and as I come round it the summit of Helvellyn comes into view. I can just about make out the shelter near the top. As I come up level with Swallow Scarth there are stunning views of the south side of Striding Edge to be seen over Nethermost Cove. I have never seen Striding Edge from this angle before and it looks quite formidable, even though I have been over it countless times. I carry on and make the final push up to the shelter. Just before I get there I pass a plaque I have never seen before. It is badly faded now, but it commemorates the first landing of a light aircraft on the summit by John Leeming and Bert Hinckler on 22nd December 1926. The summit of Helvellyn (untypically) is very flat and it would probably make a good (if rather short) landing strip. I crack on a few more yards and reach the shelter.
 South side of Striding Edge |
 Plaque commemorating plane landing |
 The Helvellyn shelter! |
Now I have noticed that when you say "shelter" to someone, they quite often envisage something like a WW2 Anderson style shelter, or some sort of hut. Well there is nothing quite so glamourous as that on Helvellyn. If there was a hut, then it would say "Hut" on the map, but it doesn't, it says "Shelter". What you get is two dry-stone walls that intersect in the middle to form a cross. Some rudimentary stone seating has been put in as well, so you have something to sit on. And that is all! The idea is that at least one of the quadrants will provide some shelter from the wind. It's all pretty basic and I'm afraid that the Helvellyn shelter is really one of the upmarket ones. Most of the ones I come across are just stones loosely piles in a crescent shape to about waist high, that you can hide behind. These are really basic.
 Charles Gough Plaque |
 JC at the shelter |
There is another plaque on Helvellyn that I have seen before and it is at the top of Striding Edge. This one is a memorial to the artist Charles Gough, who slipped and fell from Striding Edge in April 1805. I go and have a look at it and get some good views of Striding Edge into the bargain.
Left - Swirral Edge and Catstye Cam. Centre - Red Tarn. Right - Striding Edge
Technically I haven't even reached the summit yet. The shelter is just down from the summit and the Trig point, so I make my way up and round a few yards and onto the plateau and stop at the Trig point. It's a little bit hazy, but other than that the views are good. It is nice to see anything from the summit of Helvellyn. More times than not I have been up here and been in dense fog. It is 7:00pm and it is starting to get quite cold, not to mention dark. It is also very windy and I reckon it is time to get off the summit and to somewhere a bit more sheltered. I decide to descend to Red Tarn below.
 Helvellyn summit. It's so flat! |
 The Helvellyn Trig point |
 JC on Helvellyn with Catstye Cam in the background |
The easiest way is down the north ridge (a.k.a Swirral Edge) It's quite steep and blocky and I have to down climb a couple of sections of Swirral Edge. Eventually the path flattens out and just as it starts to climb again to Catstye Cam another path peels off down to the Tarn below. It's about 7:30 when I get to the tarn. I had hoped that the wind would be much less down here, but frankly it's just as bad as it was on the top. Well I've run out of time now. There is no way I'm coming down off this. Not in daylight anyway. I wander about for a bit and try to find a reasonably sheltered spot. The best place seems to be just in front of the shelter that is down here. This is one of the crescent shaped ones.
 Swirral Edge - The way down! |
 Eeek! |
 Red Tarn shelter |
I cram my rucksack into the tent and follow it in and zip up the fly sheet. Boots off! They can stay in the outer porch along with my poles and the stove. I get the mattress, sleeping bag and inflatable pillow out and get them set up. Check the phone. I have a signal, so I ring Dad to let him know I'm OK (sort of!) and also send a text message to my friends watching my progress. Battery is getting low, so I switch the phone off. It's time to look at a bite to eat. Out with a pouch of chicken curry, which I dump in the pan and set it up over the Trangia burner. The wind makes cooking it a bit hazardous, but I persevere and eventually I have a stonking hot curry which I have with a bread roll.
I don't particularly want to get out of the tent, but I do anyway and make my way down to the tarn using my head torch to clean the pan out. I also do some stretching exercises since my Achilles Tendon is screaming at me. Once I'm done it is back in the tent. It is really dark now and without the torch I would not be able to see a thing. I get into my silk base layer and wriggle into my sleeping bag. The wind noise is phenomenal and I dig out a set of ear plugs and put them in. Even with them in, the tent is thrashing about all over the place and sleep is going to be difficult.
Thursday 28th August 2014
Time unknown and I am woken up by a particularly strong gust of wind hitting the tent. It's pitch black, so I locate my head torch and poke my head out of the sleeping bag. Bloody Hell it's cold out there. I can feel wet on the tent inner. From experience I know that this is just my breath condensing on the inner surfaces. It needs to be quite cold for this to happen. Something doesn't feel right and I unzip the inner to investigate. The zip in the flysheet has come open. It's not broken, but it has just managed to unzip itself. It also absolutely peeing it down. Everything in the porch is soaking wet, including my boots. I zip up the flysheet and try and make it secure. Check the rest of the tent. It looks in pretty good shape. There is a lot of water in the porch and I realise the tent is now practically pitched in a puddle. I check the inner. No problems in here. It is all dry in the inner, so I leave it. I zip up the inner. I retrieve the more delicate equipment (Camera, phone, etc), which are all slightly damp from the condensation. I get them in the sleeping bag with me and then have another attempt at getting to sleep.
 It's very foggy! |
 Red Tarn in the fog |
 Tent packed away |
Time still unknown, but I can see, so it must be getting on for 6:00am or so. Check the tent. It all looks OK, but it is still really windy. I unzip the inner and flysheet and have a look out. We have dense fog, but at least it is no longer raining. I'm awake, so it is time for breakfast. Wheetabix and hot milk. The wind makes it nearly impossible to heat the milk up, but eventually I manage it. I decide to get out of the tent. My boots don't feel too bad despite the fact they got wet. I wander down to the tarn to clean the pan out. Still very foggy. I can just about still see the tent from the tarn. I decide to forego coffee given the difficulty in using the Trangia. I get back in the tent and start to pack things away. Eventually I'm all done, apart from the tent itself. There is nothing else for it. I toss the rucksack out onto the ground, get my waterproofs on and my boots and exit the tent. Ordinarily I would pack the tent away nicely. No chance of that, not with the wind, so it gets rammed in the stuff sack in a very haphazard manner. Eventually I'm all done and the tent is safely packed in the rucksack.
 The path down to Glenridding! |
 The weather clears |
 Bridges over Red Tarn Beck |
The weather is appalling and I decide I'm not going back up on the ridge. I will make my way down the tourist path to Glenridding. There is a fell runner coming up from the "Hole in the Wall". As he reaches me he shouts something. I can't hear a word he is saying. Ah! Earplugs!. I still have them in! I remove the earplugs and we try again. He wants to know what it is like on the top. I have no idea. I can tell him what it was like yesterday. He heads off in the direction of Swirral Edge and disappears into the low cloud. After texting people to let them know I am abandoning the walk I set off. I haven't got very far when my fell runner friend comes past me. He made it part way up Swirral Edge but gave up because of the poor visibility. He disappears down the track and is soon out of sight. I plod on, the weather getting gradually better as I get out from under the cloud cover. By the time I reach the old mine workings, the sun is shining, but a glance behind me clearly reveals that the summit of Catstye Cam is in low cloud still, so that means the ridge will definitely be covered by cloud.
 The old mine workings |
 Looking back up the path |
 Bus ride to Windermere |
I plod on. I reckon it's about 2 hours from Red Tarn to Glenridding. I eventually reach the Youth Hostel and the road and I carry on down to Glenridding and Ullswater. By the time I reach the bus stop I'm overheating. The sun is really shining down here. I strip off my waterproofs and pack them away. The buses only run every hour, but my timing is pretty good, because the next one is in 15 minutes. The bus turns up bang on time and I pay £7 or so for a single to Windermere. It is very much a contrast to the weather on the peaks. It is so hot that the bus's engine overheats going over Kirkstone Pass and we have to stop at the Kirkstone Pass Inn for about 10 minutes while it cools down. Eventually make it to Windermere Railway Station, where it is raining. I throw my stuff in the car and given that the forecast for the next few days is even worse than today, I make my way home.
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