Black Combe to Coniston
The hut beside Devoke Water
Saturday, 22nd January, 2000
The long ridge of Black Combe rises almost from the sea and is linked to the Ulpha Fells which run north into the heart of the Lake District. Most of this area falls outside the arbitrary boundary which Wainwright used to define the seven areas of his guides, although he later brought out a book which covered it quite comprehensively, The Outlying Fells of Lakeland. To the west of the area across the Duddon valley lie the Coniston Fells. Here, too, there are several excellent hills which weren't included in Book Four of Wainwright's series, which covered the Southern Fells.
I decided to focus this trip on exploring some of this area, most of which I'd not visited before. A railway line runs up the western coast of Cumbria, and I decided to start from there and make my way to Coniston, from where I could get a bus. I caught a train from Silecroft, which has the advantage of being the closest railway station to any high Lakeland summit, being approximately 2 miles from the trig post which tops Black Combe. An early start coupled with the excellent wide path put me on the summit before 11.00am, and I had a short break at the large wind shelter to take in the magnificent views - the most extensive in England according to Wordsworth. It is said that he mountains of Snowdonia can be seen on a good day, although it was a little hazy on this visit. At 1970', Black Combe fails to reach the magic 2000 foot mark by just thirty feet. (However, metrication has improved it's standing amongst peakbaggers - at exactly 600m it's no higher than it ever was, but for those who prefer to think in metres, the round figure of 600m has been adopted as the replacement for the 2000' cut-off, rather than the direct conversion of 610m).
From the summit I headed north along the edge of Black Combe's steep western escarpment. I would have liked to have made the detour to White Combe, but being January I knew that it was going to be dark by about 5.00pm so I decided to miss it on this occasion. I reckoned I could cover most of the fells as far as Devoke Water before nightfall.
After a few miles over pathless and occasionally boggy terrain, I reached the unenclosed road which crosses the Ulpha Fells. The highest point of the road is on a broad shoulder which links Buck Barrow with minor top of Stoneside Hill. After crossing the road, the route became steeper as I aimed for the rocky summit of Buck Barrow. I left my rucksack near the summit in order to visit its twin peak of Kinmont Buck Barrow, situated a few hundred yards to the west, then continued north over the broad plateau of Burn Moor and on to Whitfell. Topped with a massive cairn and trig pillar, this seemed a good place to have another break, and from here I had a clear view back to Black Combe, and ahead to Devoke Water.
The summit of Whitfell, looking back towards Buckbarrow
and Black CombeHeading north west, the next fell yielded the first tarn of the trip, the little known Holehouse Tarn beneath the summit of Stainton Pike. About a mile on the terrain became much rougher as I traversed a cluster of small rocky tops, Yoadcastle, Woodend Height and White Pike. To the east of these across a broad depression rises Hesk Fell. Given the time, I would have liked to have climbed it on this trip, but it's quite isolated from the main ridge so I had to give it a miss with only an hour's daylight left.
I descended towards Devoke Water and had no problem finding a suitable camp spot, not far from the ruined boathouse and with excellent views towards the Scafells. Water was also available from the nearby Hall Beck. It had been a fairly warm day for January, but it was getting quite cold as the sun began to set.
Throughout the day, the Scafells and the other fells around Eskdale had been on the horizon, inspiring me onwards when my strength had been flagging. I had met no other person since leaving the summit of Black Combe.
Devoke Water below the Seat, with the Scafells
on the horizonSunday, 23rd January, 2000
It was still dark when I awoke, and I quickly got some water on for a coffee, which heated the tent up considerably. By the time I'd finished breakfast the sun had risen and went for a stroll around the lake, visiting the neighbouring summits of Water Crag, Rough Crag (with it's trig pillar) and Seat How. Then it was time to strike camp and head east towards the Coniston range. After crossing the unenclosed Birker Fell road, the terrain was a little marshy near Sike Moss, but improved on the climb up Great Worm Crag, a fine summit with good views in all directions. To the north west is Green Crag, which I'd first visited on a round of the Wainwrights (Book Four: The Southern Fells). It was well worth a second visit, though I left the rucksack near the base of its rocky summit. From here, I descended into the Duddon Valley, where I had Sunday lunch at the Newfield Inn in the small village of Seathwaite.
The summit of Great Worm Crag, looking towards Devoke Water
The Duddon Valley's eastern flank is formed by a long rigde which stretches from the Coniston Fells in the north east to the Dunnerdale Fells in the south west. The ridge is crossed about halfway by a pass which carries the Walna Scar Road, an old bridlepath linking Seathwaite with Coniston. Wainwright used the pass as the southern boundary for his guidebooks, but there are a many small fells to the south that were reserved for the Outlying Fells volume.
I decided that it would be impractical to visit all these tops on this trip, so reluctantly left Great Stickle and Stickle Pike for another day. Instead, I took the track which starts behind the inn, and headed for Caw. Taking a branch of the track which bears to the left, I eventually arrived at the disused Caw Quarry, then a short but steep climb alongside a small stream eventually led to the summit, a narrow rock shelf with a trig pillar. I consider Caw to be the finest of the fells which were excluded from the Wainwright Guides, (with Black Combe a close second). I lingered quite a while at the cairn, taking in the magnificent views in all directions, then decided it was time to look for a camp site. There was an excellent spot just below the summit, with a spring not too far away, but I decided to carry on a little further. Following the ridge towards the Coniston Fells, I crossed the minor tops of Pikes and Green Pike, until I reached a depression beneath White Pike, (marked Yaud Mire on the map). Here I found a piece of flat turf situated in a narrow 'trough' between two outcrops of rock which offered excellent shelter. A spring in the depression provided water.
Camp beneath White Pike
Monday, 24th January, 2000
It was a cold morning, but the light frost around the tent soon melted away as the sun rose. I wasn't in too much of a hurry to get away, and read a few more chapters of the book I was reading before getting out of the sleeping bag. Once the rucksack was packed it was time to head off again. The impressive White Pike looked well worth a visit, though a quick look at the map suggested that it would be easier to reach the summit from behind via Walna Scar rather than a direct climb. I was able to follow good tracks to the pass, from where I took a detour along the short ridge which is topped by the three summits of Walna Scar itself (the first time I'd been above the 2000' contour on this trip), White Maiden and White Pike.
Back at the pass I met the first people that I'd seen actually on the fells since Black Combe. The original plan had been to follow the track down to Coniston, but there was plenty of time to cover a few of the higher fells first, so I carried on to towards Dow Crag. I'd been on the here once before, but on that occasion it was in mist, and it was difficult to appreciate the spectacular location of the summit, a spur of naked rock which is perched on the very edge of a vertiginous drop down to Goat's Tarn. I had the summit to myself, although by now there were quite a few people about. The ridge route that leads to Coniston Old Man follows the skyline of the deep corrie which contains Goat's Tarn, though I made a short detour to the large cairn on Brim Fell before visiting the Old Man himself. He had quite a few visitors today, but it was a change to have people about. I knew I was close to the end of the trip when I overheard my first mobile phone conversation of the day, ("Hey, guess where me and Bill are!...What's this mountain called again, Bill?... The Old Man of Coniston! Wow! I think I can see the car!")
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