Rosthwaite to Grasmere

Sunday 7 September 2008

(Walking Distance: 9 miles)

Eagle Crag and Greenup Gill

Far Easedale Head

Easedale

Easedale and Helm Crag

The breakfast was the best so far: both for the food on offer and the company.

The Aussies, Christine and Peter, were staying at Gillercombe. They’d been walking with their daughter and her husband, who were also over from Australia and were walking the first few days before taking off to Ireland. They’d also met up with English friends who were accompanying them today. They’d had a good day yesterday with no real problems.

Three Californian ladies, half of a party of six, were also staying. They were a wonderful source of gossip.

It seems that the Israeli lads were struggling yesterday and the American ladies had had to help and encourage them along the trail. Apparently one was taking a bus today, whilst the other intended to walk to Patterdale. No more was heard of the Israelis, so they probably jacked it in.

It also appears that Dad’s Army had gone astray yesterday at Black Sail; wandering up to, what sounded like, Tongue Beck to Gillercombe Head in the thick mist. A momentary breach in the cloud eventually let them get their bearings and head back down towards the Honister Pass.

Today was the fourteenth anniversary of the start of my first Coast to Coast walk in 1974, with Rita and American friends, Larry and Laurie Lofton and their baby Lita.

For the first time in the walk the day started fine: misty on the tops, but dry. I left at about 09:00hrs and met the Aussie party and the Canadian ladies, Dawn and Lesley, for the walk up Greenup Gill. I dropped behind before entering the cloud on the approach to Lining Crag and continued alone.

It also started to rain but it lasted just long enough to climb into waterproof gear, before dry conditions returned and the clothing was peeled back off again.

Lining Crag is steep, almost a scramble, with the restored path today doubling as a waterfall. The view from the top was none existent.

The path from the top of the crag to Greenup Edge disappears for a fair distance into ground too wet for the formation of a trod. The route is marked by cairns, but they were too well spaced in today’s conditions: when a cairn was reached its successor wasn’t visible through the gloom. By a combination of using a compass bearing to get the general direction, looking for traces on the ground of previous walkers (not an infallible tactic: they might have been lost) and peering into the cloud for the next pile of stones, I gained the summit of the pass and the much clearer track without mishap.

These little triumphs of navigation do increase one’s hill walking confidence mightily.

I’d considered taking a circuitous route to Grasmere from here, via High Raise, Sergeant Man and Blea Rigg, but the conditions ruled that out. On I went, still in thick mist, down to a very boggy Wyth Burn and back up to Far Easedale Head.

Here I paused, had a coffee, devoured a battered turkey butty carried thus far from Ennerdale Bridge and made the second navigational decision of the day. The route over to Helm Crag, along the ridge to the north of Easedale is glorious – one I’d taken with Rita on our second C2C. With the cloud still thick I headed down the valley, itself a magnificent though occasionally boggy walk, towards an early finish and Grasmere.

Once committed, after the loss of a couple of hundred feet, the cloud cleared leaving blue, almost cloudless, skies (but the prospect of an afternoon off in the village was still welcome).

I was pleased to note that I’d had no foot or back problems thus far and that my pace and stamina were better than I’d anticipated. Too early to gloat, but I might save my deposits and finish the walk yet.

Despite dawdling I was in the Glenthorne Guest House by 14:00hrs; some time before my bag was dropped off by the Packhorse service. After laundry duties and a shower I turned up for the establishment’s traditional afternoon tea and cake in the lounge, but soon made my excuses and escaped to the village.

Grasmere was at its touristy best. I whiled away a pleasant couple of hours pottering in the shops, galleries and church. I wondered, not for the first time, where the residents of places like Grasmere bought the essentials of life – washing powder and potatoes. Paintings and sculptures are there aplenty, but toilet rolls…

Whilst buying an Alan Bennett (I’d omitted to bring any none C2C reading) I bumped into the Californians and spent a few minutes exchanging notes and gossip – it was the last time I saw them, they had a slower schedule from Patterdale onwards.

Later I met up with the Canadian ladies, Dawn and Lesley. They were also at the Glenthorne and had walked the ridge route: they’d set off in mist, but were rewarded by clearing skies and the splendid views. We ate together at the good, but expensive Jumble Room.

I’m getting used to early nights now. I was in bed with the book by ten and snoring sweetly by eleven.

Accommodation:

Glenthorne Guest House

Easedale Road

Grasmere

Cumbria

LA22 9QH

015394 35389

The Glenthorne is a slightly unusual spot: a Quaker establishment with comfortable, en-suite accommodation and drying and communal rooms, yet with a hostel-like feel. The breakfast reinforced the collective feeling, with a queue forming in the hall waiting for the breakfast bell and cereal course. The remainder of the meal was indifferent.