| Location | Troutbeck |
| Those Present | Jerry, Lyn, Bill, Sally, Mark and myself |
| Dates | October 21st - October 28th |
Mark and I arrived at lunch time after an unpleasant journey up the
motorway. We found the cottage, which was on the old road which rises from the new main road to pass through Troutbeck village, and then walked back down the hill to the Queens Head at the junction with the A592.
Halfway through the first pint Jerry and Lyn turned up. We all waited for Bill and Sally as the directions for the cottage weren't that good.
Eventually we were all there, and we returned to the cottage to sort out rooms etc. Mark and I ended up with a room in the attic, access to which was by a ladder on the landing. Night time visits to the loo were going to be a bit tricky!
I think this was the last time I shared a room with Mark; his snoring eventually got too much for me!
We walked down to the pub that evening. The beer (Websters) was excellent;
down south Websters exists only as cold, fizzy keg, but this was the real thing.
The only problem was that food was only served upstairs, which would have meant losing our table in the crowded bar. Fortunately (for the rest of us!) Lyn was suffering from a bad back, and persuaded the staff that she was unable to get upstairs, so we were allowed to eat at our table.
None of us were feeling particularly energetic - possible (certainly in my case) through over indulgence the night before, and the weather didn't help.
We walked down to the main road and took the track leading to the Garburn Pass. By the time we had reached the top we had had enough, so we returned to the cottage.
The beer was good again, but towards the end of the evening it ran out. No problem, we thought, they'll soon get some more. Poor, trusting fools!
The weather had improved, and we set off along Ing Lane, which led up the the Troutbeck valley. (picture) We crossed Ing Bridge and Hagg Bridge and went up by Hagg Gill, climbing across the slopes of Froswick and finding the grassy groove which is supposed to be part of the Roman High Street.
We arrived at the col between Ill Bell and High Street, with magnificent views of Harter Fell and Kentmere Pike across Kentmere reservoir, and went up onto High Street as far as the summit (picture) before heading back to the beacon on Thorntwaite Crag and across to Threshwaite Mouth.
The path down from Threshwaite Mouth across Park Fell Head was very steep and quite tricky on the loose rocks, but we arrived without mishap on the floor of the valley. (picture)
The return along the west side of the valley was very boggy in places, especially where the streams coming down from Stony Cove Pike and Hart Crag join Trout Beck, but all in all it was a very enjoyable day. (picture)
That evening there was no beer (or what we call beer) in the pub. Apparently the delivery men were out on strike, and they didn't know when new supplies would be available. For the rest of the week we used the Mortal Man along the road towards the village. It was pitch black, with no street lights, and on the first evening we made the trip, before our eyes had become accustomed to the dark, I missed a bend in the road and led the whole party into a hedge!
In those days we had one day off a week, and today was it. I suspect it was because Lyn and especially Sally didn't want to walk every day.
We went to Keswick via the Kirkstone Pass and Ambleside, and after a few pints of Theakstons in the Dog and Gun walked across the road to the Lakeland Sheepskin shop. Our resistance lowered by our lunch time activity, we all (except Mark who insisted on being boringly sensible) bought a leather jacket.
I still have mine, and wear it most days in the winter.
We returned via Ullswater and Kirkstone.
We parked at Torver and followed the Walna Scar road. As we gained altitude we entered the low cloud, and it started to rain.
Bill had been having trouble keeping his feet on the wet grass because his over trousers were too long, and kept falling over the heels of his boots. Eventually he lost his temper (how unlike Bill!!) and attacked them with his Swiss Army knife. Unfortunately he just made a cut and then tore the material, which of course didn't tear in a straight line. The result was quite hilarious for the rest of us. (picture)
Where the road crosses Torver Beck by a bridge, just before it starts to climb to the top of the pass, is a ruined hut. We sheltered in it while I consulted the map. The others were quite upset when they realised I was giving confident directions while using a map of SW Yorkshire!
Half way up the pass we turned right and went over Brown Pike and on to Dow Crag. (picture) The cloud obscured the views down to Goat's Water, but we still caught glimpses of strange rock formations looming out of the mist. (picture)
We walked along the top of Dow Crag and down to the col at the top of Goat's Hause. The final ascent to the summit of the Old Man was in front of us, and the others seemed quite surprised that we had arrived at the right place.
We didn't stay long on the summit; there was nothing to see except gray
mist, not even other people to annoy us, and we began to make our way down the west ridge to rejoin the road. I had made this descent on numerous occasions, and Jerry and Mark had also done it before. The idea is to stand with your back to the cairn and go straight down the south ridge until you can see your objective below you. We must have set off just few degrees to the left, because we soon came across a path which I didn't recognise, and which lead us steeply down to some old quarries.
It just goes to show how even familiar surroundings can change in poor visibility.
We had a conference, during which I got the blame for getting them lost.
Sally in particular gets upset if she doesn't know where she is, and this in turn upsets Bill. I tried to explain that I wasn't lost, I just didn't know quite where we were. I persuaded them that the only thing to do was to carry on down - we would eventually come out of the cloud and find a landmark.
As it happened it wasn't long before we came to a wide track, which I recognised as the Walna Scar road from Coniston. We turned right onto it, and were soon making our way back to Torver.
It was a much nicer day. After the adventures of yesterday Bill and Sally
decided to go for a trip in the car - to Scotland!
Lyn's back still prevented her from walking, so Mark, Jerry and I set off to do the Ill Bell ridge.
We went to the top of the Garburn Pass and ascended the easy grass slope up to Yoke.
From here the walk was a sheer delight, up and down the shapely rocky summits of Froswick and Ill Bell before descending to the valley alongside Hagg Gill.
A very pleasant walk.
Once again the weather had closed in. We drove over to Kentmere, parked
near the church and took the path over to Sadgill at the end of Longsleddale.
We went up the valley to the top of Gatesgarth Pass, and by now we were well and truly in the cloud, and the slog up the boggy slope to the top of
Harter Fell was a miserable experience.
We rested at the summit cairn with its collection of twisted fence posts, where for only the second time in all my visits to the Lakes I checked my compass, and then set off along the ridge over The Knowe and Brown Howe to Kentmere Pike.
Wainwright describes it as a 'pleasant grassy promenade', but it was a grim slog through peat hags. Either he had an odd sense of humour, or considerable erosion has taken place since he wrote his guides - both I suspect.
The rest of the walk, over Kentmere Pike and down to Brockstones and the village was over much more pleasant terrain.