Cumbria Way 2025 - part two

 29th May: Keswick – Caldbeck 29km

The weather forecast was full of doom – ‘You may struggle to stay upright at times’ – so it seemed sensible to take the low-level route, avoiding the summit of High Pike.  I hadn’t actually measured that route but guesstimated it wouldn’t add too much.  That prediction wouldn’t age well.  After breakfast in Booth’s I set out in light rain to pick up a sandwich at Jan’s (very good) then headed towards the old station.  There was no one much around as I plodded my way up Spoonygreen Lane round the back of Latrigg (which people seem to pronounce luh-TRIG not LAT-rigg, as if it were French). feeling rather boiled-in-the-bag in full waterproofs.  There were only three cars in Gale Road car park, some people on Latrigg, some ahead of me on the path and, as I turned off below Lonscale Fell, some very misguided people heading towards Skiddaw.  Mad.

Below Lonscale Fell

It was pretty hideous going in the driving rain and low cloud over Glenderaterra Beck, although I was pleased the wind was at my back, as it was supposed to be all day (talking of predictions aging badly…)  I caught and passed a couple of lads and then, towards Skiddaw House, a couple who might have been the father and daughter we saw at the ODG but, being swaddled up and not wanting to hang around, I didn’t quite confirm.  Nonetheless we did agree between ourselves that low-level was the way to go today.

The view above Skiddaw House

Just after I left them I came to a gate that was under at least half a foot of water, with no way round.  I shuffled along a fence and swung the gate open, swooshing like a lock gate on a canal, and danced my way over some submerged rocks as quickly as I dared.  I wondered about stopping to eat at Skiddaw House but wasn’t sure of the protocol so pushed on.  Finally the rain was easing and some of the lower tops, Great Calva for instance, were free of cloud.  It was still windy as the path had reached 480m, which seemed fairly high but is 180m short of the high-level route.  Views opened up to the north-west, though Binsey was invisible.  Dash Falls thundered down and it is disappointing there isn’t a good viewpoint of it from the path.  A little further down I found a sheltered spot in an old quarry for some lunch.

Leaving the fells

The weather, it seemed, had just been gathering its strength for the next onslaught.  Heading north-west, the ‘southerly’ wind roared into my face, blasting me with heavy rain.  I hunched myself over, like a scuttling figure from a Hiroshige painting, gripping the front of my hood to stop it blowing off.  The waves of rain continued and I shouted curses against the weather.  By a stone wall a sheep was hunkered down in the lee, its head pushed far down into the corner and its face a mask of glum suffering.  ‘Same here, mate,’ I said.

Below Dash Falls

There was some micro-navigation through farmland for a while, made more difficult when being lashed by a tempest, until I came to the road at Orthwaite.  I could have done with more food but didn’t want to stop in those conditions so stomped off up the road.  I finally got a chance to eat just near the little parking spot at Longlands, sitting on a low rock under a dripping tree.  A couple of fit-looking blokes marched past.  ‘Bit moist,’ one said.  They were taking the low-level route too.

The path went east along the north edge of the fells, dipping and weaving between farmland, moorland and roads.  There was an ‘interesting’ ford which would have flooded my boots had I not found a jump-able stretch of beck just downstream.  The rain, thankfully, had stopped so I delayered somewhat and set to the task of grinding out the remaining kilometres.

Caldbeck in the distance

Caldbeck, in view for a while, took an age to arrive and was a relief when it did, around 17:00.  The Oddfellows Arms, where Jill was patiently waiting, was busy, hot and humid so we were soon on the road back to Keswick where it was a relief to fall into a hot shower and put on dry clothes.  The day finished with a superb meal at Merienda (whole roast trout) and a few pints at the Dog and Gun.

30th May: Caldbeck – Carlisle 25km

The day looked fair, even if the ground was damp, but I knew well enough to keep the waterproofs in the bag.  Breakfast was at Booth’s again, and so was lunch as we were driving back to Caldbeck for the final day.  The journey through the moorland around Uldale was quite pleasant in decent weather.

River Caldew

Many trees near Caldbeck

The first part of my route took me through Caldbeck campsite and out of the National Park.  There was a lot of woodland, full of birdsong, and no people at all.  My legs felt all right, except for any incline when they reminded me of the distance I had done.  My first crowd was a green lane full of ewes and lambs just below Sedbergham Hall.  I stood to one side to let them nervously past but got bored of that and just squeezed along one side.  They soon raced by as they were being chased by the shepherd in his pickup and his family on foot.  Mrs Shepherd apologised as they had been delayed by one sheep getting stuck in the hedge.  ‘They go everywhere they’re not supposed to.’

Ovine rush hour

Beyond there I followed the River Caldew’s lazy wanderings through fields full of sheep and cows.  Swallows skimmed across fields full of buttercups and sand martins danced over the river.  The Bridge End Inn looked tempting but I had places to be.  I should have gone in as I lost the path twice in Buckabank, arriving 10 minutes later about 10m from where I started.  The path carried on through the attractive red stone buildings of Cowen’s toy stuffing (amongst other things) factory and into the busy Dalston.

Near Welton

River Caldew

Following the path

Earlier I had looked online to see if there was anything about path closures around the new Carlisle south bypass.  ‘AI’ had said it was open, so naturally I was dubious.  There were no signs as I joined the Caldew Cycleway at Dalston and no one wandering or cycling around offered any advice, so I carried on.  The Cycleway proved to be tarmac all the way (8km), which was pretty relentless on feet and legs, stomping on and on.  AI was right and the path curved its way around the works at the foot of the new road bridge over the Caldew.  On and on I plodded.  Clouds kept coming and going so the temperature swung between hot in the sun and cold in the wind, making it impossible to select the right clothing – either be too hot from time to time or be too cold.  I tried both and went for ‘too cold’ which worked out quite well as it got warmer on the way into town.

New bridge over the River Caldew

With an ache in my back and for a break from the constant stomping, I took a short rest just outside Carlisle before marching on again through the outskirts.  As is typical, these seemed to go on much further than the map would suggest.  Once I crossed the river my first goal was the West Walls Brewery tap, where Jill had just arrived.  Some pre-celebration beers later, we walked into the centre to the market square.  This was quite a challenge as the entire town was being dug up and half the roads were fenced off.  I had to laugh at the ignominy that greeted my triumph as I finally reached the end of the Cumbria Way.

Carlisle Cathedral

The week had had its challenging moments, particularly the suffer-fest on the way to Caldbeck, but the walk up Langdale and down Langstrath had been wonderful.  Jill and I had had lots of laughs in the evening, and plenty of excellent drinks and food.  The route was cleverly contrived, taking in a few sights and avoiding any monster climbs.  The ‘Cumbria Way‘ signage was better outside the National Park, though often it was hand-painted by the landowner, although I wasn’t too worried about drifting around the ‘official’ route.  Despite the weather I had thoroughly enjoyed the walk and came away feeling like I had added another layer of connection to the area.

Carlisle market place

Cumbria Way 2025 - part one

26th May: Ulverston – Coniston 25km

The train rolled over the Kent Viaduct, reminding me of the time I walked across the estuary some 10 years ago, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was in Ulverston.  As we crossed the Leven Viaduct, I stood to gather my gear and to face the anxiety that had been churning inside me for days.  Not just the usual concerns about the arrangements, the weather and how I would cope physically, but also doubts about the whole enterprise.  What was I doing there?  Why was I doing it?  For all that, there was nothing else to do but go on.

Ulverston was quiet on the Bank Holiday with many places shut still at 10am.  I wandered through town to the Gill, where the Cumbria Way begins.  A few snaps then I was off by the beck and soon into the fields.  The first part of the day was all like this, rolling farmland and small villages; fields and minor roads.  Not at all unpleasant.

Ulverston

Hoad Hill, Ulverston

Near Gawthwaite I caught up with an oldish bloke, backpacking along the Way, and had a chat.  He was planning to wild camp; ‘Farmers don’t mind, I’m the least of their problems.’  I passed a few other solo walkers and couples.  This point marked the start of the National Park, and the landscape started to feel more Lakeland with rock, scrub and Herdwicks.  The Coniston Fells had been in view all day, inching imperceptibly closer, but were now looking darker and cloudier.  The rain began to fall as I approached Beacon Tarn, where I sat under a tree for lunch and watched a woman on the far side enter the water for a swim.

Approaching the Blawith Fells

The ground was rougher and boggier across Torver Common before dropping down, finally, to Coniston Water.  The path was through trees at first and this made for tough going with climbs and drops, and lots of slippery tree roots.  The rain just got heavier as I passed campsites and boat clubs.  It was still mild – I was just wearing a waterproof over my tee shirt – but I hurried through the weather, glad I hadn’t opted to climb any of the minor fells on the way.  My knees were feeling the strain, probably through rushing, when I gladly plonked myself down, dripping, at the Yewdale Inn where Jill, who was my non-walking, baggage-transporting companion, was waiting.

Heading to Torver Common

After a quick pint or two we drove to our accommodation at the Old Dungeon Ghyll and had an excellent evening in the Climbers’ Bar.  Some very wet lads stood around the open fire nursing hot chocolates for a couple of hours before they could face heading back to camp.  There was impromptu music from an accordionist, a guitarist and a, um, digeridoo-ist (is that a thing?).

27th May: Coniston – Great Langdale 20km

It was a bright morning with a few spots of rain while we ate our breakfasts.  Jill then dropped me back at Coniston, where she was having a mooch around.  I found my way out of town and into the countryside where the rain started to pick up the pace.  Across the valley on the Yewdale Fells, the waterfalls crashed down the crags.  There was a delightful path through Tarn Hows Wood, past the very desirable Tarn Hows Cottage, and onto Tarn Hows Lane before reaching, well, Tarn Hows, would you believe.  Despite the falling rain, the car park was rammed and families were all over the paths nearby.  The scenery was very pretty but I was glad to turn away from the screaming kids and find myself alone again on the far side.

Yewdale Fells

Tarn Hows Cottage

Tarn Hows

Good paths took me down to Colwith Force which thundered through a series of cascades, half-hidden in the woodland.  Given the rainfall, it was no surprise that there was a lot of water roaring down the falls.  There were quite a few people about here, an easy walk away from Skelwith Bridge, I suppose.  Skelwith Force was similarly busy so I passed by without stopping and hit the superhighway to Elterwater.

Colwith Force

I was starting to feel a little chilly as my waterproofs were no match for the constant downpour, so I was glad to call into the Britannia for an excellent pint of their eponymous Blonde.  Thankfully, by the time I left the rain had eased off so I didn’t rush the walk up Great Langdale.  I caught a bloke I had seen earlier when we had both stopped for a sandwich by the river.  He asked about the ODG and when I explained (rough and ready, basic but good food), he said, ‘I don’t think my friends would like it.  They’re from London.’

Heading into Great Langdale

Langdale is a very familiar place for me, from countless daytrips and weekend stays, so I felt the comfort of the well-known fells around me.  Being a short day, I could afford extra stops, including another pint at Lanty Slee’s, aka the Stickle Barn.  It gave me another break from the returning rain too.

After some chillout time at the ODG, we spent the evening in the Climbers’ Bar again, enjoying a bit of people-watching as families and friends came and went.  A couple of lads came in with ropes and racks of gear; they must have had quite a challenge on the crags in the wet.  The bar staff and regulars asked if they could get to the dartboard as things quietened down, which gave us the welcome excuse to move to a table nearer the fire.

28th May: Great Langdale – Keswick 27km

As we were staying at my stage’s start point, it meant I was on the trail earlier than the last two days.  Breakfast dealt with and packed lunch, at least partially, stowed in my rucksack, I set off along the path behind the pub, just ahead of an older couple who were also on the Way.  It was a cloudy but dry day with a fresh breeze, especially towards the head of the valley.  The last two days’ rain had left plenty of puddles and running water across the path.

Langdale

A young American couple ahead of me headed towards Rossett Gill while I turned up the Stake Pass.  Clearly they had meant to go my way too as I heard them behind me, having realised the error of their ways.  I really enjoyed the climb; it was mostly fairly steady with just a few short steep sections, and I was feeling pretty good.  The views to all the fells were excellent and again it was a joy to be in such a familiar place, only feeling a slight tug on the heart that I wasn’t going to any of the felltops.  An air of contentment came over me as I made my way through the drumlins in Langdale Combe, despite a slightly chilly breeze.  This contentment proved short-lived as I somehow found myself heading towards Rossett Pike instead of Langstrath.  Cursing, I cut across country feeling less smug than I had earlier when the Americans had gone astray.

Langstrath

Sundews

Langstrath was gorgeous from the top, down the knee-jarring descent, over the busy beck and all along its lovely, long length.  I think I have always used the western side of the beck but the official Cumbria Way route is along the eastern, so that is the way I went.  There were some nice boulder fields below Sergeant Crag and a delightful area by the river, framed by a mix of pine, oak and birch.  The water was clear, with a greenish tinge, showing the rocks below.

Langstrath

Langstrath

Langstrath

The bottom end of Langstrath

I have never been much of a fan of the path by Stonethwaite to Rosthwaite and as usual it proved awkward and slow, which at least gave me chance to listen to a cuckoo calling for the third day in a row.  The sky had cleared too and it was starting to feel warm.  I sat down to eat by the ‘new bridge’ over the Derwent and slapped on some sun cream from the meagre and probably expired supply I found in my bag.  The forecast hadn’t suggested this would happen so I hadn’t come prepared.  The warmth after the rain had brought out the damselflies and dragonflies all along the river.  Families were playing around, some kayaking, some just paddling.  Derwent Water shone in the sun, with Skiddaw, Bleaberry Fell and all the rest around it.  There were colourful redstarts near Grange.

Derwent Water

From here it was a bit of a stomp.  I could feel the distance in my legs and my left heel was twinging somewhat, but I got into a steady pace, passing people idling along.  It was busy at the foot of Cat Bells, the ice cream van being a draw, and I hurried to get away from a group of lads who all seemed to be part of a football team.  When I finally arrived in Keswick I was still at ‘fell pace’, ducking and diving round dawdlers, drifters and gawpers, but glad at last to sit down in the Crooked River Brewery tap.  Our apartment, just behind the Co-op, was quite nice and very conveniently located so we could nip out for an excellent tea at the Wainwright.

Easter 2025 - Argyll & Bute

April 18 & 19

After a long drive up and a busy ferry crossing to Dunoon, we arrived at Ormidale House in light rain.  The first evening was unpacking, cooking and catching up with the group (41 of us in various houses).  The next day was forecast to be wet so we planned some sightseeing on Bute.  In the end the weather wasn’t too bad and I managed a very brief stroll up St Blane’s Hill with a great view of Arran.

Arran from St Blane's Hill, Bute

April 20

The kitchen was busy with people making packed lunches, the Dutch lads looming especially large (at 20 something they were all over 6’).  Various cars departed and 50 minutes later we arrived at Arrochar, at the head of Loch Long.  Our first objective was Beinn Narnain, and the sketchy path started climbing very steeply immediately, which was handy for warming us up in the cold morning air.  It continued steep and went on and on.

Resting on the way up Beinn Narnain, looking to Loch Long

The Cobbler from Beinn Narnain

The sun came out and the gradient eased momentarily, giving us a good view to the Cobbler.  Shortly after that we were faced with the formidable crags of the Spearhead, something I hadn’t anticipated despite reading about the ascent.  Dark rocks towered over us, sharp-cornered like piles of black boxes.  There was a scrambly path at first then a steep, mini-Lord’s Rake below the crowing crag of the Spearhead itself.  The summit of the hill was rounded and rocky, the views bounding out all around us.  Ben Lomond, just about clear of cloud, was especially prominent.

Approaching the Spearhead

Scramble by the Spearhead

Beinn Narnain

There was a cold wind so we made our way rather unpleasantly down to the bealach before joining the well-made and gentle, but busier, path to Beinn Ime.  The views were a little hazy but we could see the Mull hills and even Ailsa Craig to the south.  A hollow below the summit out of the wind was clearly used for more than shelter.  ‘Jobbie Valley,’ one of our team dubbed it.

Views to Ben Lomond from Beinn Ime

Views from Beinn Ime to Loch Fyne

The long path out was easy going and increasingly warm.  Towards the bottom, through the woods, it zigged one way then zagged the other interminably before eventually disgorging us by the still busy car park.  Just the Creggans Inn at Strachur before reaching the house, where we found there was no hot water as the heating oil hadn’t been delivered.  Luckily there were some electric showers.

April 21

Another wet day was forecast so, once I had set the smoke alarm off grilling bacon and waking the entire house, we left for more sightseeing at Inverary.  Coffee, a stroll in the light rain, buying presents (the Longrow whisky was for myself), then a fabulous lunch of oysters and langoustines at the Loch Fyne Oyster Bar before a pint or two at the Fyne Ales taproom.  A decent use of the day.

April 22

Another big group day out, this time a little further on to Inveruglas on Loch Lomond.  The weather got a bit greyer the further east we went and the tops were all in cloud.  We just had to trust the forecast.

Beyond the hydro power station, the service road climbed steadily, the twin Bens of Vane and Vorlich hulking either side of us.  We turned left towards Vane and hit its steep eastern slopes.  Keeping the group together meant taking it steadily and this became even slower as we hit a long series of scrambles, all of which were pretty entertaining, though I chose the wrong line near the top and had a sketchy time on some wet, downward-sloping slabs.  The others went a more sensible way.

Getting steep on Ben Vane

Our group queuing for one of the scrambles

Great views from Ben Vane

Scrambling back down again

By the time we got to the top the cloud had largely lifted and we could at least see the local views and we spent quite some time eating lunch and staring about us.  Our return was back the same way, the downclimbs actually feeling easier than I had anticipated they would be on the way up.  It grew warmer all the way down and we sat reasonably happily outside the Creggans on the way back.

April 23

My preference had been to complete the twin peaks and visit Vorlich, but a large group were heading to the Cobbler so I chose the more social option.  It was properly warm at the bottom with plenty of the gang wearing shorts.  Again we took a steady pace up the zigzags through the woods in order to keep the group together.  The Cobbler looked impressive from the approach, the twisted shapes reminding me of Icelandic hills like Einhryningur.  We circled around the hill towards the bealach between Beinns Narnain and Ime before heading left up engineered steps (some of the way at least).  The wind was a little chilly at this altitude.

Approaching the Cobbler

At the summit col a few of us turned left for the northern peak, with gave terrific views of the rest of the crags and out along the lochs.  Over on the real summit I had a look at the very top but chickened out, though one of our group threaded the needle and scrambled up there.

Summit of the Cobbler

The needle or window is the way to the very top

Show-off

The steadier members of the party returned the same way we has ascended while a few of us took the more direct route.  This was much busier, so we dubbed it the Tiktok Path.  There was even one (English) bloke I spoke to who was only going to walk to the col and not bother with the summit.  Go figure.

Being less tired, the endless zigzags through the woods didn’t feel so bad this day.

April 24

In the evening we had had long discussions about routes on Ben Vorlich.  The standard route was pretty steep and people remembered it as being something of a mess too.  I favoured the route from Ardlui while another argued for the south-east ridge.  In the end we decided to go up the standard route and down the south-east ridge.

Arriving back at Inveruglas, the clag was down so that ruled out ridges on the way up anyway.  The steep path up actually turned out to be less bad than feared.  A lot of it was engineered and it just required a steady plod.  Over 800m we hit the cloud and it got cold in the crosswind.  We made our way along the clear path, careful to check when we had got to the true summit.  There were no views and it was cold (we were basically wearing everything we had brought), so we turned about and headed down the same way we came up.  As we got lower, the cloud started to lift and once we were back on the service road it had turned into a lovely day.  It was early and one of our party wanted to go to Ben Vane, as he had missed out the previous day (he’s an ultrarunner), but he didn’t have his own car and we were all going to the Creggans, so he had to miss out.

Didn't take many pictures on the way up Ben Vorlich

Weather improving on the way down (note how we're dressed)

Loch Sloy

Loch Lomond

April 25

My travelling companion and I wanted an early start as there was a rugby fixture to attend that evening, so we bid farewell and hit the road (and ferry).  It had been a great week, blessed with good weather and lovely company.  The walks had been entertaining and had left me with a sense of achievement – four more Munros ticked off – without leaving me completely done in.  Success all round.