Same Old Man, Same Old Weather - Photo Gallery

It was wet when I left home after it had been raining all night but a few miles further north the skies were surprisingly clear; where it obviously had not been raining the fields were frosty. By the time I reached Coniston village it was wet again, it had obviously rained a lot and there was going to to plenty more rain. I set off along the Walna Scar Road; looking over the wall I could see a huge amount of cloud over Coniston Old Man that was down as far as the abandoned quarry workings.

The tarmac ends at a metal gate, beyond which is a parking area with cars not allowed any further along the “road”. After passing through the gate I turned right to walk along the old mine track towards the quarries of Coniston Old Man. The view behind was fairly clear and sunny, up ahead was a mass of cloud that didn't look likely to be clearing any time soon. By the time I reached the popular path coming up from Coppermines Valley, at the start of the quarries, I had already been subjected to a couple of cold showers and the rain seemed to be becoming more persistent; it was necessary to put on waterproofs.

I walked up through the quarries; although they are an ugly scar there is no doubt that it is interesting to see the ruins. There are discarded steel hawsers all the way up the hillside, obviously used to transport the quarried material down some kind of aerial carriage; it would have been fascinating to see it operating on a busy day. The rain that had seemed to be set in for the day had stopped by the time I reached Low Water and I had to take off my waterproofs; the wind had dropped and the rain replaced by mist. I walked up the steep rough slope, the reconstructed path is just as rugged as the quarry waste in places; I like to explore the older, un-repaired routes of which there are many.

I suspected that the calm, misty conditions would be replaced by something else when I reached the summit of Coniston Old Man and I wasn't wrong. The breeze got stronger and the air turned colder on the climb up the final, steep eroded slopes; there were small fragments of snow on the ground. It was cold and windy at the summit and quite busy with several parties of walkers up there; the sun was making a pathetic attempt to get through the mist and there was a ghostly view of Coniston Water.

I decided that it wasn't the right day to be adventurous and I would take a more straightforward route than the one I had planned. I set off along the ridge and the cold wind beat me up mercilessly as I walked over Brim Fell; I had a fleece hat on, my hood was up and my fleecy neck gaiter pulled up over my nose, but the wind still got through. I didn't hang around at the summit of Brim Fell, my hands were beginning to feel cold even though I was keeping them moving in order to prevent my fingers from freezing. The puddles of water were becoming increasingly frozen and the air was filled with flying tiny ice particles; it isn't hail but it still stings when it hits your face.

By the time I reached Levers Hause it had started to snow, it wasn't that heavy but it was sticking, and by the time I had climbed up the the summit plateau of Swirl How the ground was covered. At the summit cairn I took out my map and was preparing to plot a route that wouldn't get me into trouble when the mist lifted, suddenly and unexpectedly. Now I could see my way down to Prison Band and the path on the other side of Swirl Hause towards Wetherlam; I also had a decent view of a rainbow in Greenburn and I could make out Pike o' Stickle on the horizon.

I like the descent of Prison Band, it is rough and interesting without any danger; there is just one rock step to scramble over where you need to be careful but it presents no real problems in getting down to Swirl Hause. By the time I got down to the hause the mist had re-established itself over Swirl How and the ridge to Coniston Old Man; I could just see Levers Water under the mass of cloud, and daylight on the other side of it.

The path upwards on the other side of the hause is more obvious and less rugged and it is the easier way to Wetherlam. You can climb up onto the ridge of Black Sails to get to Wetherlam but I decided to stick to the path; there was a good view over to Helvellyn, bathed in sunshine and no sign of any snow. It is a straightforward walk on a good path until you reach the final climb to the summit of Wetherlam; the ground becomes more rugged and eroded as it gets a bit steeper. As I got to the summit plateau, it too was covered by a layer of snow and a blanket of mist; there was enough of a path and just enough visibility to get to the summit without having to navigate.

I had worked out my bearings for these conditions whilst I was at the summit of Swirl How; I suspected that it might not be easy to find my way off Wetherlam in the direction I wanted. There is little evidence of any paths, partly because it is rough and stony, partly because eople tend not to keep to a single route on broad summit plateaux. I kept to my bearing of south for a little while following the footsteps of the walkers who were a little ahead of me, until their footsteps disappeared. Where there is snow it usually sticks to the disturbed surfaces of footpaths and there were a couple of these possible paths that I had to ignore in keeping to my new bearing of south west.

As I started to descend I was puzzled by the absence of any evidence of paths, this usually means I'm going in the wrong direction. I came across another vague path that seemed to be heading towards the head of Red Dell which is where I wanted to be; I cautiously followed the path because it seemed to be keeping to the contours and I wanted to go down. I got below the mist and I was surprised to see somebody else on their way up but about a hundred feet away; feeling a bit more confident I left the path to head downwards over grass and came across a large cairn.

There was no snow on the ground any more and there was a faint path leading down to a smaller cairn so I was sure I was heading in the right direction. I continued downwards, mainly grass with a few small boulders get get around; sometimes there was a faint path and sometimes I couldn't see one. I kept descending according to my “natural route of descent” theory and always found the path again. The upper part of Red Dell is a wild, unspoilt place that looks far too steep and unrewarding to climb, and probably is for the majority of people.

Anyway, I liked the place and enjoyed being there; it is a route I will use again, far better than the alternative descent that meets the Hole Rake path. Once you get to level ground you reach the Red Dell mines; the first thing I noticed was the composition of the spoil heaps, rather than slurry-like gravel it seemed to be nuggets of quartz-like rock. There is a mineral line constructed from stones with a deep pit at the bottom that presumably held machinery at some stage, there are deep holes fenced off and several ruined buildings; it would have been a busy place at one time.

After crossing Red Dell Beck by a wooden footbridge you have as comfortable a walk-out as you could hope for at the end of a day; a good un-eroded track takes you all the way down to the Coppermines Valley road. There is still interest on the path, the entrance to the largest mining hole I have seen with its own steel gate to keep unwary visitors out, and the path itself constructed on a steep slope crossing several streams that can become torrents. It was quite a nice afternoon in Coniston with no evidence of the wild weather on its nearby fells.

Andy Wallace 9th December 2006