It Ain't Barf Hot - Photo Gallery

The forecast was not too good, but it was encouragingly sunny and warm when I reached the car park at Woodend Brow, on the abandoned section of the old A66 by the side of Bassenthwaite Lake. I walked back down the old road to Thornthwaite, and turned right up the small tarmac road; shortly afterwards I crossed a stile and followed a small path through the trees. A small upright, tiger-tooth shaped boulder with a name, The Clerk, marks the start of the path to The Bishop; the tourist path carries on ahead, but if you walk through the trees a steep scree slope rises immediately in front of you.

Although it is very steep, the scree isn't as loose as I expected, the gravel has been wet and has dried out to set, like weak mortar; it isn't that strong but, with care, it took my weight without me sliding down two steps for every three I took up. The Bishop is barely visible due to the steepness of the ground, and is further away than it looks; on such steep ground you can't stop to rest, your muscles are tight and there is nowhere level to stand. As you get higher, the surface becomes looser and more difficult to stop sliding down after each step; I was feeling warm too, it was hard work and the sun was strong even at 9 o'clock in the morning.

Eventually, The Bishop appears; an upright boulder, about seven feet tall on its shortest side, spectacularly robust and irregular in shape, amongst the loose evenly-shaped tiles of slate falling away all around it. The Bishop is traditionally painted white, even on the back side that not many people see; all in white except for the fluorescent graffiti! I had forgotten just how steep it gets above The Bishop; it is an irregular and eroded rocky gully, it looks like it is made of quarry waste, but it seems to be a natural erosion of a vulnerable rock formation.

I'm sure this outcrop must have been quarried at some time, it's just like walking up a spoil heap, and I'm sure there is a ruined building up there somewhere. It just gets steeper, rockier and more exposed; you must make sure you don't have to depend on holding onto a rock, in case it comes away in your hand, and it's quite a drop back down the hill. I eventually reached a grassy shoulder, or rather a bracken-forested shoulder, and Slape Crag was ahead of me; I had an interesting walk up boulders and scree to the rock face, whilst looking for a viable line of ascent.

I have been there before, over four years ago, but had to turn back on that occasion, because I couldn't make the scramble up a rock step – I was determined to get up it today. A slanting grassy ledge leads up to the rock step; the narrow ledge is above a big drop it's alright, the problem is the overhanging rock above it. There are not enough good hand holds to hang on to the overhanging rock if I got my feet on to the ledge; I tried to crawl up the ledge, underneath the overhang but couldn't get through with my rucksack on.

I took my pack off and placed it up on the ledge above me; I got a foot up on to the ledge with some help from my right knee, whilst pushing my rucksack in front of me. On the final awkward step up, I had to hang on to my rucksack to stop it falling a hundred feet off the ledge and down the steep slope; I really didn't want to have to clamber down the same way to retrieve it.

As I suspected, it didn't get any easier after that, I was on a very steep crag; there was some vegetation in the cracks to give me footholds enough to almost stay upright, and I had no intention of giving up now. It was not only steep but very exposed, I had to concentrate on the next handhold and placing my feet; unfortunately I was too preoccupied to take any photographs.

Eventually I got up onto the summit plateau, it was a reasonable walk up the rise to the first false summit, and to the second one, before a short steeper climb up to the innocuous summit. There were good sunny views, without any hint of the drama just below; all of that and I had only got to 1500 feet above sea level! It was a straightforward, undulating walk, although still very muddy in places, on the climb up to the summit of Lord's Seat; fragments of a metal fence make a poor cairn substitute.

I walked off the summit, down a good path, and then on to a forest track; it was much further than I thought it would be, it was obviously the tourist route leading down to the Whinlatter Forest visitor centre. In attempting not to walk all the way down to the visitor centre, I took a wrong turn at a junction and had to walk back again to rejoin the track and the tourists; I did finally get to somewhere I half recognised. It is over four years since I was there and I wasn't absolutely confident about where I was, my map and compass were useless in the forest. I turned right at an information point, although it was different information to when I was last there, and followed a good track until it ended at a fence that I did recognise.

After I crossed the stile in the fence, I turned right to follow it steeply uphill until I reached the ridge; I turned left to make the straightforward, undulating walk to Whinlatter Top. I retraced my steps, back to the fence and turned left to take the short cut back towards Lord's Seat; this is the way I wanted to get here, but I didn't see any signs of a path leaving the forest track in this direction. The path emerged onto the track, at the point where I had taken the wrong turn earlier; at least I now know where the path is!

I walked up the track back to the summit of Lord's Seat, I bet not many people visit it twice in one day. I walked downwards on grass before crossing a wide grassy depression, and made my way over to the summit of Broom Fell; the big cairn at its summit makes it seem all the more surprising that there is none at the summit of Lord's Seat. There was a refreshing, but gentle breeze at the summit, walking across from Lord's Seat it had become quite warm without it.

You can see Graystones from the summit of Broom Fell, it doesn't look too far and the ground looks reasonably easy. It is much further than it looks, there are a couple of depressions and climbs before reaching the edge of the forest, although I can't pretend that it was difficult. After a short, level walk by the side of a forest fence, you reach a confusion of fences and have to step over one of them; at first you climb the footstep-marked grass slope, and then make a diagonal ascent to the plateau, and arrive at the summit of Graystones soon after that.

There are no paths at the summit, I took a compass bearing to confirm that I would be going in the right direction if I followed the wall northwards. I was not especially looking forward to crossing Wythop Moss, but it's the only way to get across to Ling Fell; it is a wide, swampy depression. Fortunately, it's a dry time of year, but the long grass is very deceptive and hides the ground; I only walked into the swamp once - all of a sudden I was three feet below ground level, it's a good job it was comparatively dry!

It is a long tedious walk, you have to step every step through the tall vegetation and across soft ground; it is a strength-sapping trek. There were lots of unusual butterflies and flowers that I don't normally see, it is a fairly unique environment that doesn't get disturbed very often. I eventually reached a gate in a wall, and decided to go through it; I was hoping the path would avoid the need to struggle through dense bracken. It didn't look too promising, but after crossing the stream by a substantial bridge, I had a dry walk back up to a fence.

The fence goes upwards, steeply upwards, but it is the only practical ascent of Ling Fell; there was no path, so I ended up walking on the remnants of the base of the original wall, and hanging on to the fence. It was actually not too strenuous, considering the amount of walking I had already done; when I reached the ridge, there were several vague paths that were not really going anywhere, so I eventually just headed upwards. Through a couple of hummocks, I saw a trig point in the distance; I walked easily over grass to the summit of Ling Fell, just a short way past the triangulation column.

There was a path leading away from the summit, taking me easily downwards; it traverses around the hillside to reach the Corpse Road, which in turns leads to a proper road. I walked along the road, then turned left and walked downwards across Brumston Bridge; I turned right, went through a farm gate, and immediately turned left to follow a wall uphill. It was just starting to cloud over a bit, and my legs were starting to feel the strain a bit, but I carried on up to ridge. At the crest of the climb there were various paths leading up the broad ridge towards the summit of Sale Fell; this is a nice, tidy fell, there are smart lawn-grass paths all the way to the top.

After walking up to the summit, I couldn't remember how to get down again; I followed another tidy path, but it seemed to be going in the wrong direction, so I started to make a direct descent. I quickly doubled back to regain the path when I realised I needed to be the on the other side of some woods. I carried on along the wide path, and after a short distance I took the less obvious branch to the right, going downwards in the right direction. I eventually reached a bigger path going downhill and turned right, hoping to get to the valley road.

After walking for longer than I expected I began to wonder if I was really going in the right direction; I couldn't work out which hills I could see around me and my compass said I was wrong. I eventually arrived at the site of the old Wythop Church, I was sure I should be able to see it on the map, but couldn't; it was another clue that I wasn't where I thought I was. I reached some farm buildings, and stopped in order to have a proper look at the map; I saw the site of the church, and realised that I had reached Kelswick, meaning that I had missed my turn about a mile back.

I had to walk back up the path, it had been a long day and was wishing I had taken more care; in my haste to finish the walk I had put my head down and forgotten to navigate. In my defence, there was no sign of the sheepfold marked on the map, but I should know better than to ignore my compass. I found my turn-off at a metal gate, and turned on to the rarely-used track; I walked past the significant spring at Lothwaite Side before walking into Wythop Woods.

I walked down an obvious footpath, it crosses a forest track, and keeps going down until it eventually takes you back to the old road; it is just about a mile back to the car park.

© Andy Wallace 11th July 2009