December to Grasmoor and back - Photo Gallery
It was another typical grey December day; there was neither fog nor frost, just the damp chill of late Autumn. I parked the car close to the school in Braithwaite and set off on the road signposted to Newlands valley. Not far along the road, on the right, you come to a cattle grid and a track leading to Braithwaite Lodge. I walked up the track towards the house; the route of the path is marked on a slate sign and takes you around the side of the house. There is a complicated junction of footpaths with signposts, gates and stiles cluttering up the corner of the courtyard.
Cross over the stile leading to a rising track which in turn leads to another stile; cross over it and start walking uphill on the green slope towards Barrow. The slope isn't that steep but it seems to go on too far for a small hill; each time you reach the crest there is another skyline to aim for. Eventually you reach the top of the slope and you are on a small subsidiary summit from where you can see the next slope of Barrow beyond a small col, and it's less bulky neighbour, Stile End. The vibrant contrasting colours of autumn were subdued by the dullness of the day and there was proper mist not too far ahead.
The next slope to be climbed is more rugged; the underlying rock is closer to the surface making for a more uneven, eroded and interesting surface to walk on. This slope only gives you one false skyline before the final, steeper and differently coloured climb to the small summit plateau of Barrow; the remains of its cairn lay scattered around. I carried on past the summit and descended to Barrow Door, a small pass at the hub of several routes; the descent is less steep but more rugged and eroded than the climb.
At Barrow Door there are obvious paths leading up to Sail Pass and down to Stoneycroft and Braithwaite; I carried on ahead to take the less obvious path climbing quite steeply to the small summit of Stile End. In spite of the dullness of the day the conditions for walking were good, it wasn't wet and I wouldn't be getting wet; the only cloud on the horizon was the mist not very far away on the summit of Outerside, the highest visible point. I set off in the direction of Outerside, down easy slopes to the wet plateau of Low Moss; I carefully made my way across the swampy ground hoping that it would bear my weight.
You can see the path on Outerside going steeply up through the brown heather, you have to choose which path to take across the swamp to reach it; I chose the one going around to the left but I suspect it was no better than the more direct alternative. The steep, eroded route up through the heather reminded me very much of nearby Rowling End; there were no false skylines on the climb to Outerside and almost as soon as the steepness ends you get to the summit. As I had expected, the summit was in mist and on the easy descent I had a murky view of Force Crag.
At the bottom of the slope you have to cross High Moss, I was very wary about the soft, marshy ground bearing my weight; usually I step on clumps of vegetation that give a bit more support, but I always check first before committing myself. It was a pleasant surprise to reach a good constructed path, apparently built to service a cobalt mine near Sail Pass; I did a quick navigation check to make sure the path wasn't going to take me out of my way. I turned right, walking on the path and after a while I started to climb; the path lost a bit of its shape as it made its way up and across the unexpectedly steep, eroded outcrops of Long Crag.
As I got towards Sail Pass there seemed to be something happening to the mist, I thought I could see blue sky ahead; maybe the mist was clearing. Suddenly though, I was above the mist; it wasn't clearing it was a cloud inversion. It was as though I had surfaced and was bobbing along with my head sticking out of the mist; there was the summit of Grisedale Pike rising into a bright, blue sky. It wasn't December any more, there was wall-to-wall blue sky and the sunshine was bright and warm.
As I started to climb up the broad path towards the summit of Sail I could see the extent of the inversion; in a sea of mist I could see the islands of the Helvellyn, Scafell, High Stile, Pillar, and Skiddaw ranges and little Blencathra. There were other, closer tops sticking out of the mist that I wasn't able to identify without any supporting geography.
I climbed, or rather plodded, up the wide eroded path and at its crest I turned right for a short walk over grass to reach Sail's summit cairn situated in the middle of an icy puddle. The was a flattering view of Eel Crag and its equally unimpressive neighbour Wandope. There were fragments of snow, remnants of cornices, on the rim of the corrie on the Coledale side. The view all around was reathtaking, I hadn't realised just how many of the Lake District ranges of hills you could see all at once; but not a lake anywhere to be seen.
Keep going in the direction of the imposing Eel Crag and you have quite a rough descent and interesting crossing of The Scar, a small arete that is slightly more interesting if you keep to the crest of the rocks. Then you have a rough climb upwards needing hands and the occasional big step; you can stay on the crest of the ridge in good, dry conditions rather than use the path if you don't mind a bit of exposure. This again is the nicer kind of steep path, as the steepness ends you are on the summit plateau of Eel Crag, not very far from the summit.
The large flat plateau felt just like a beach surrounded by sea; it was lovely sitting in the warm sun trying to name all the visible tops.
From the summit you head in the direction of Grasmoor, there is a good path these days down to the col and an obvious path going upwards on the other side of it. The slog upwards seems to go on for a long time until you reach the plateau; this is the biggest plateau you will find in the Lake District and you still have a good walk to reach the summit, although the gradient is negligible. As you would expect from the highest summit in the group, there is an extensive view from Grasmoor's summit, the inversion exists for as far as the eye can see.
I set off in the direction of Grisedale Pike, for once I can see where it is; there is no path to begin with, but as long as you don't fall over the edge you can follow the rim of Dove Crags all the way to Coledale Hause. The ground falls away impressively and there are good viewpoints to admire the size and steepness of the crags. As you start to descend there is a path or two that you can follow but it doesn't matter anyway, the good grassy ground isn't steep or boggy. Eventually you will get down to a stream that is usually not difficult to cross; follow the path by the side of the stream to the wide expanse of Coledale Hause.
At the hause I was back into the mist; Eel Crag had its own brocken spectre as its shadow fell across the mist. The mist was thick enough that I couldn't tell whereabouts I was on the long eroded path up to the Grisedale Pike ridge, it is just as well that the exposed mine workings are fenced off. The mist at ground level was fairly dense but above me I could see the sun's ghostly image. I came out of mist again shortly before getting on to the ridge to climb Grisedale Pike's nameless subsidiary summit. When I got to Coledale Hause I thought that the conditions were beginning to change, but it was still summer on the ridge and warm enough, at the end of December, to be walking in my tee shirt at 2500 feet.
The mist was ebbing and flowing across the col between the subsidiary summit and Grisedale Pike but it seemed that the waves parted for me as I walked across. As I reached the summit of Grisedale Pike the sun was starting to set and different colours were being reflected off the surface of the mist. As I started to make the steep descent towards Sleet How the shadow of Grisedale Pike was cast on the mist and around the shadowy summit was a glory, a rainbow coloured halo; I have never seen one without a brocken spectre before but it photographs fairly well.
I was overtaken by fellrunners on the descent of the steep, eroded stony ridge and I watched them disappear into the mist below. I followed them and was back into mist at the bottom of the steepest part of the descent where it was suddenly and noticeably colder. I came out of the mist altogether at the col before the gentle ascent to Kinn; it was time for my winter jacket and gloves to go back on, I was back in December again. The people who have been down below all day would have no idea what a fantastic day it had been.
Andy Wallace 23rd December 2006