Red Screes to Dove Crag - Photo Gallery

It had been a wet night and it was still raining when I set off, the roads had been gritted so somebody must have been expecting colder weather. I drove through some heavy showers on the motorway; as it got light and I was driving through the Lake District I could see snow on the hill tops. Against all the odds it was a mild morning and much to my surprise it was not raining when I got to Ambleside; I parked on the street near the Kirkstone Foot holiday complex on the Kirkstone Road.

I walked up the Kirkstone Road for a short distance before turning right down a narrow road named Seathwaite on the map; not surprisingly each of the several houses down there had the word Seathwaite in its name. The only exception was the one at the far end of the lane called High Barn; I disturbed a couple of deer on the other side of the wall as I approached.

I walked through the gate at the side of High Barn into a field; I followed the wall over pathless grass until I got to churned-up mud and an eroded track at the entrance to Roundhill Farm. I went through the metal gate into the farm yard, almost immediately through a kissing gate on the right and down a zigzag path on grass to a slippery wooden bridge crossing Stickle Ghyll at Low Grove. I turned left onto the tarmacced lane that takes you as far as High Grove holiday cottages and farm. You then go through a gate onto an old cart track, although these days it will be used by farmers on quad bikes; it is rough and wet and not used to very much traffic of any kind these days.

You are suddenly into the valley of Stock Ghyll, far away from the nearby busy town; dominating the view is the sight of the snow-capped Red Screes. At the crest of the path it changes to a much drier and less water-eroded surface; except for when I walked past a sheep feeding station where the grass was churned up into mud. I walked past the ruins of High Grove; I don't know what kind of building it used to be but it is now used as storage area for old caravans, a quad bike, some new fence posts and a bath.

The valley is a quiet and unspoiled place apart from the farmer's rubbish; apart from the impressive bulk of Red Screes, it has an active quarry with an attractively coloured rock face that you can clearly see. It is quite a lengthy walk from Ambleside, it took me over an hour to reach the wobbly stile that you cross to get back on to the Kirkstone Road; just in time to struggle up The Struggle to the Kirkstone Inn. The Inn looked closed, there is usually some sign of life all year round but I got the distinct impression that it was deserted.

Looking up to Red Screes from the Kirkstone Pass always makes me feel a little apprehensive; in spite of being there before you can never take any hill for granted. There is a gate at the far end of car park where you get on to a faint path and head in the direction of the big hill in front of you; there seems to be a new reconstructed path taking the easier route that I use for descent. I haven't gone this far out of my way to take the easier option; I am here to go for a more traditional, less popular but much more interesting route.

You climb up steep, rough grass between and over boulders until you reach a broad green shelf; there is a steep rugged climb ahead, I could see a small channel going up, through the extensive rock face - is that the route? I followed a faint path in the general direction of upwards, clambering over rough grey scree until I saw something that resembled a path. Around the edge of the screen fan is a pink border, the redness of the stone disturbed by walking boots shows through. It then got steeper; I was following the edge of the loose scree being channelled up towards a small rocky gully.

There it was, a narrow way through slabs of rock on either side; there were plenty of footholds although the rock was wet, and where the hand holds should be there was grass growing. It was steep with plenty of loose rocks, I needed a good leg stretch in a couple of places but there was no exposure although there was no escape; it was either up or down. At the top there was a short respite from the scree but not from the steepness; there is a faint path upwards to the next scree filled section.

Red screes by name and now by nature, plenty of loose stones that move often enough for the red colouring not to be weathered to grey. With the stones being loose, and sliding down if you try to walk up them, footsteps have been worn into the grass at the side. By then I had reached the snow line as the wide scree shoot narrowed into another rocky channel; it was just as steep with more loose stones and an awkward exit onto an exposed ridge. Almost immediately you are into another scree filled channel; this one is an even narrower gorge with a high rock step that would be no problem in dry weather but there was too much water on the rocks at the time.

The rock step was probably no more awkward than the steep exit I made, but the rock was dry where I climbed up onto an exposed red, rocky ridge. After clambering up the steep, broken rock I eventually re-entered the channel which was filled with loose stones up to the exit. At the top I had a short traverse over to another rock channel; that one was the top of Kilnshaw Chimney, too adventurous for me, it falls steeply away into a narrow rocky gorge. I made the final, steep climb up the eroded and wet but not crumbling rock to reach the summit plateau of Red Screes.

Suddenly I was ankle-deep in snow; with wet, soft ground underneath I had to be careful, the soft snow wouldn't support me if I stepped into holes or bog that it might be hiding. It was a lovely sunny day by that time, there were good winter views over to High Street, the Ill Bell ridge and Windermere. I headed upwards towards a shallow col on the skyline; before I reached the col I found the top of the path coming up from Kirkstone Pass, followed it, and shortly afterwards arrived at the summit of Red Screes.

It was a fine wintry summit, there were good views all round but all of the paths were hidden by snow; I took a bearing and headed north west, keeping out of the hidden bogs as best I could. The snow that hides most of the paths also makes some more obvious and after I had descended slightly from the summit I saw a familiar path slanting downwards to a wall junction that I know well. I was using my ice axe with the wet snow being very slippery; it isn't what ice axes were designed for but I find it helps me to stay upright on a slippery downward slope.

I reached the wall junction and tried to walk on the path but it was sometimes worse than the snow; eventually the erosion on the path gave me better footing, although the ice axe helped to give me support on wet, slippery rock. I got below the snow line and onto more familiar muddy ground at Scandale Pass; you have to cross over the wall before you start to climb up by the side of it. Little Hart Crag was well illuminated above me but I had to pay attention to where I was putting my feet, it is a very muddy path with the potential for going in knee deep.

Scandale Tarn is on your left as you walk by the side of the wall that gradually becomes a fence, up to crest of the slope. At the top turn right to make the easy scramble up to the summit of Little Hart Crag; I didn't have time to walk to its other summit but felt a tinge of guilt for not doing so. I retraced my steps and walked back to the fence and started to follow it in the direction of Dove Crag. I could see the big cairn on High Bakestones and a path leading up to it; I had to decide where to cross Bakestones Moss.

I came to a dip and there was a shallow gully heading off towards Scandale that seemed to be avoiding the steep descent to the gill and its surrounding swamp. The rough grass was surprisingly not swampy and I eventually came across a path with a cairn beyond that provided a viewpoint for Windermere. I followed the path across a stream and over wet ground to reach the path going up to High Bakestones; the view of Windermere was enhanced by shafts of sunlight leaking out of the mass of cloud covering the Coniston Fells.

The path is difficult to find at the best of times but it was covered by snow and I managed to lose it and ended up walking on and between slippery boulders. It was only when I saw other walkers coming down in the opposite direction that I saw the obvious path about twenty feet away from me. I walked up to the large cairn on High Bakestones; it is at least ten feet tall and three feet wide but with no obvious purpose. Other walkers had thoughtfully made a path through the snow directly towards Dove Crag, saving me having to navigate and plough through six inches of snow.

The snow at the summit of Dove Crag was much better, obviously the greater altitude is a better environment for it. It had been a fine day with some cloud, but there had been dense cloud over the Coniston Fells all day; there was also thick cloud over Fairfield and in the failing daylight it seemed that more active weather was on its way. It was time to descend anyway in order to get down before it went dark; just follow the wall all the way to the bottom. There is a good deal of boggy ground near the wall and you either make a wide detour or use the base of the wall as stepping stones.

After the initial descent you reach better ground for a while; you barely notice the gradient up to the summit of High Pike but you notice change in the path, it becomes eroded and muddy again. From there you can see that the wall goes all the way to the bottom of the ridge, although Low Pike in the distance temporarily interrupts its descent. I knew it would take two hours to descend from Dove Crag but it still seemed a long time to get between High Pike and Low Pike.

It seems that the easier path on the right hand side of the wall has become more popular with several groups of walkers on that side. I prefer to keep to the more traditional and interesting route that keeps by the side of the wall all the way to the top stones of Low Pike. After starting to descend I remembered that the problem with this route is the huge area of boggy ground beyond Low Pike; after reaching level ground I found a wooden post with a notice warning about the “Deep Bog”. I made sure I kept out of the bog as I followed the wet path bearing left away from the wall; if you keep to the drier route by the side of the wall you'll come to an awkward downwards scramble.

After crossing a wall-stile the going becomes easier and you reach a stony track; too late I realised I was near Low Sweden Bridge, I had intended to cross High Sweden bridge. I knew there was something about that stile; to get to High Sweden Bridge I should have turned downhill instead of crossing the wall, but it's a long time since I was there. There isn't too much difference really, I crossed Low Sweden Bridge and walked past the farm buildings and found my way back to Kirkstone Road.

For once I had a dry December day, the rain came later.

Andy Wallace 16th December 2006