Crag, Pike, Ridge Ridge Pike and Edge - Photo Gallery

It was a sunny morning, there was a good forecast, and it was a holiday weekend so it was not a surprise that there was nowhere free to park in Patterdale. As it happened, it was better for me to park in my usual place in Glenridding, close to where I was hoping to descend. I set off in shorts, but wearing my normal jacket, to walk back to Patterdale; there were hordes of walkers coming the opposite direction, no surprise too that it was going to be a usy day on Striding Edge. At the Post Office in Patterdale, I turned up the track leading off the road, passing the best-kept public toilets in the Lake District, if not the British Isles.

I turned left on a small path, leaving the track just before it entered somebody's back yard; after a short walk through trees, I passed through a kissing gate and walked up a path over rocks. The path then descends to a gate in a wall, but rather that go through the gate and join the obvious path, I turned left up the slope by the side of the wall. The first few yards are a muddy mess under a tree, in this wet corner moss grows thickly on the tree branches; the muddiness eases after you get past the tree. If you like paths, the one by the side of the wall is fairly reasonable, and will take you to the top of Arnison Crag.

There is a small crag, well worth a little scramble, if you are not an absolute path-dweller; it must be a practise crag for abseiling, there is a substantial and permanent anchor point at the top of the crag. After my little scramble, I carried on up the path beside the wall, until I reached a shallow stone-filled gully on the left; I walked over the stones, up the gully and clambered up the steep, but unfortunately short, north ridge of Arnison Crag. Only from this direction can you see the only living tree on Arnison Crag, although the Juniper is really just a bush growing out of a crag; a short descent from the crest of the ridge left me with a final rock step up to climb up to the tidy little summit.

From the summit there is a steep little descent down to the path beside the wall again; I eventually had to replace my full strength jacket with light pertex one, and put my sun hat on. There is an obvious path at first, but it disappears into grass as you get closer to Trough Head; I continued onwards, past the Head in the direction of Gavel Pike. I was surprised to come across an obvious path in a groove and even more surprised to see two walkers ahead; I didn't think I would see anybody on that side of St Sunday Crag.

The path eventually faded into the grass as it started to head for its probable target, the regular ridge path ascent to St Sunday Crag. I turned left and headed across open ground following a vague path; I crossed a stream and stepped carefully across Gavel Moss, there was plenty of wet ground but only one of the pools was permanent enough for the frogs to have spawned there. Once I got across the Moss, I made a short climb up to the skyline and found the ridge path ascent to Gavel Pike; not the busiest of paths but obvious enough to follow. I had to put my jacket back on again, the cold breeze made it necessary to put some gloves on too; there were people here as well! It was quite a steep climb, mainly on grass that had eroded to stones but with a couple of rock steps; there was an easier gradient before the final rockier climb to the summit of Gavel Pike.

There several people already at this rarely visited subsidiary summit, who knows how busy the popular routes were going to be. I walked up the easy gradient to the crowded summit of St Sunday Crag; I was feeling quite cold, with shorts on, in the strong breeze as I walked along the ridge but had left my long trousers in the car. I walked down to Deepdale Hause and turned off onto the path descending to Grisedale Tarn, it was a much easier route than the one I followed in the snow a few weeks ago.

I crossed the wet ground, and the outflow stream from the tarn, to get to the path leading to Dollywaggon Pike; I set off climbing the recently constructed path that replaces what used to be the most badly eroded path in Lake District. It always seems a long hard climb, but the two young man who ran past were bent double in the photograph I took! I was feeling fit though, and it wasn't as bad as I was expecting; it might be the fact that it was the first time I have climbed it on a dry day and in good visibility.

As the gradient eases you reach a large cairn, the main path carries on northwards, but I turned right; along the edge above Cock Cove to reach the summit of Dollywaggon Pike. I carried on past the summit cairn, and started to descend the green airy ridge towards Ruthwaite Cove; the descent on grass isn't difficult but the ground drops away suddenly and obviously on both sides. I kept going down, the ridge is a series of grassy shoulders; I was keeping mainly to the crest of the ridge, there is a faint footpath in places and the rocks and steepness can be avoided, but you have to search to find the best way down.

This ridge is called The Tongue, it is rarely visited but definitely the best part of Dollywaggon Pike; you have to make sure you don't leave the ridge too early, the ground is dangerously rocky and steep all around. There is no need to be reckless, just keep looking for the easiest ground and keep going down; at a small shoulder, the ridge ahead continues downwards, but just down to left an obvious path appears. I made a mental note of the position of Hard Tarn and the line of crags below it, because that is where I was heading for.

I headed down to the path, it was just like walking off the edge; you have to follow the path as it clings to the steep slope, it is wide enough to walk along without worrying too much, as long as you don't look down while you are moving. There are a couple of awkward steps to get past a rock outcrop, and you really feel as though you are at the limit of what could be called a footpath. As you reach the scree, the path makes a descent on eroded, loose stones before returning to a reasonable gradient and descending in the direction of Ruthwaite Cove.

As you reach grass the path just disappears, from here you are on your own; I was literally on my own on one of the busiest days of the year in a popular area. Without losing height I walked towards the corrie wall, the ground was good except once where I put a couple of steps into swampy grass upto ankle depth. I went around the top of a rock outcrop that would make a good marker if I was coming in the opposite direction, and then started to descend slightly as I crossed the base of the corrie wall, just low enough to keep below the scree.

I had to descend a little more as I came to some large boulders, but still carried on along good ground until I reached the stream that is the only outflow from the vicinity of Hard Tarn. I walked up by the left hand side of the stream, it was grassy and steep but not as swampy as I would have expected; I carried on upwards when the water apparently ceased to flow. I reached the edge of a large boulder field and I could hear water flowing, but it was all below ground level.

I headed up towards what seemed to be the lip of a tarn basin, stepping across increasingly large boulders, and increasing numbers of them; when I reached that point all I could see was a sea of more large boulders. A little higher up there was another ledge that I aimed for but when I reached that there was still no tarn, just a few temporary surface water pools. I then walked across to where I thought Hard Tarn would be, but suddenly, instead of reaching it I was on the top of the cliff behind it, looking down into its crystal clear water. I carried on, at first through some large boulders, and then descending slightly to avoid the loosest of the scree, before reaching grassy ground again. A short climb brought me up to the start of the eastern ridge of Nethermost Pike, it became cold enough again to put my jacket back on.

The ridge ahead was certainly as rough as I remember it, and it looked much steeper, but then I have never been in that part of the world in such good weather and visibility. There is an obvious, if small, path leading upwards; this rarely visited route is only in the first stages of erosion, the covering of vegetation has been stripped leaving loose stony earth. The steepness and nature of the erosion means you have to take care not to slip and not to worsen the erosion if you can avoid it.

After an interesting climb, the nature of the ridge changes as the gradient eases slightly, the final climb is across angled rock outcrops, forming a narrow arête with a long drop down to Nethermost Cove. Suddenly it ends and you reach a familiar sloping grassy slope, and as you reach the summit plateau there is a cairn; follow the edge above the cove to reach the summit of Nethermost Pike.

Last time I was here I found the summit using my compass in thick mist, this time it was bright and clear enough to see the obvious path all the way to the summit of Helvellyn. I could see a continuous stream of people walking across Striding Edge, it looked as though there would still be standing room only. Still feeling fit, I managed the usual slog to the summit of Helvellyn without any trouble, all I had to look forward to now was the pleasure of descending Striding Edge.

From the summit I walked over to the Gough Memorial and started to descend the steep, badly eroded slope in order to get to Striding Edge. I don't know what it was but I suddenly felt very unsure of myself, the descent seemed unfamiliar and awkward. At the bottom of the eroded slope there are a couple of outcrops, or small pinnacles, to cross and I felt really uncomfortable as I made ungainly progress. The safety net and fence belonging to FixTheFells didn't really cause me any inconvenience but they added to my feeling of unfamiliarity.

The climb up the rock step onto the ridge was not too bad, but the step around the side at the top made me feel very exposed. I walked along the first part of the ridge but felt strangely uncomfortable about the prospect of walking the crest, although I have done so several times before in conditions that were less than the perfect weather today. I even felt unsteady walking along the path below the crest, I started to think that that being on the edge would not be any worse. At a point about halfway along the edge, I got back onto the crest, and although not as confidently as usual, I managed to walk along the the end of the ridge.

I had forgotten just how far it is to walk back to Glenridding, the signpost when I got there said it was 3 miles but it seemed further than that. On a fantastic day and feeling fit it had taken me just over nine hours to do the walk.

© Andy Wallace 11th April 2009