I grew up among the gentle
hills of Wiltshire, but when
I headed north, it wasn’t in
search of mountains, it was
to Newcastle – a city with a
burgeoning alternative music
scene; somewhere I could
pursue my teenage dream
of playing guitar in a band. It
was a heady ambition that
almost hit gold; but despite
endorsements from Radio 1
and the NME, our transit van
took a wrong turn on the road
to fame. Two years later, I was
newly married and on the cusp
of a fresh adventure. My wife
had been offered a dream job
in Cumbria, and we moved out
into the wild.
Our irst house was on the
edge of a wood. After the
hypnotic hum of the city, the
roaring silence was unnerving,
but not as alarming as the
sounds that broke it: I nearly
shot through the ceiling
when a barn owl screeched
outside the window, and
when I irst heard the bark
of a roe buck in the wood, I
imagined the Hound of the
Baskervilles. It didn’t take
long for the countryside to
work its charms, however, and
pretty soon I felt the pull of
the mountains. I remember
standing on the shore of
Haweswater looking up at the
huge whaleback ridge of High
Street, and my friend telling
me of the Roman road that
used to run over it. Right then, I
knew I had to go up there.
Haweswater has a haunted
air: the drowned village of
Mardale Green lies beneath its
surface. Last orders sounded
in 1935 when the Manchester
Corporation built a dam to
lood the valley and createa reservoir. To ascend High
Street from Mardale is to take
what Wainwright calls “the
connoisseur’s route”. It climbs
the splendid narrow spine
of Riggindale Edge, whose
plunging crags were long
home to England’s last nesting
golden eagle (known locally
as Eddy, until his sad demise
in 2015). With height, the
mountain reveals its imposing
eastern face: precipitous cliffs
drop dramatically to encircle
the volcanic crater of Blea
Water. The inal scramble
up the rock steps and steep
scree of the Long Stile may
have been a tad ambitious for
a irst fell walk, but it sparked
a passion, and the vision from
the summit fanned the lames.
Here was an eyewatering
panorama of the wild, rugged,
beautiful peaks I would spend
the next 20 years exploring.
When snow-capped in
winter, these summits are
Alpine: inely chiselled,
Arctic blue, fringed rose at
dusk. In spring, conspiracies
of sun and shadow render
their lanks as Art Deco
railway posters: broad, lat,
angular and stylised; and
they resound with the songs
of skylarks and of Herdwick
lambs. In high summer, purple
scarves of heather drape their
shoulders, while the amber
light of autumn paints from a
palette of late-ripening fruit
tones. These are fells that
have stood intransigent for
eternities, and yet they are
endlessly ephemeral- a landscape of
mystery and
adventure.
LAKE DISTRICTGeorge Kitching
lives near Cartmel,
South Lakes
George Kitching blogs at http://www.lakelandwalkingtales.co.ukMY REGULAR WALK
Hampsfell
MAP: OS 1:50,000 Landranger sheet 96
For all my love of the higher hills, I most often ind myself on Hampsfell, the
low outlier than separates Grange-over-Sands and Cartmel. Its summit is
graced with rare limestone pavements that jut from the earth like ancient
fortiications and overlook the desolate beauty of Morecambe Bay, a place
of perilous sands and biblical skies, at their grandest when overcast and
shafts of golden light pierce the cloud to spear the earth like the ingers of
God in a William Blake painting.
TOP RECOMMENDATION
Kentmere Horseshoe
MAP: OS 1:50,000 Landranger sheet 90
Kentmere boasts one of Lakeland’s most iconic skylines. Walk the airy ridge
from Yoke over the sharp peaks of Ill Bell and Froswick to the wide grassy
plateau of Thornthwaite Crag and sense a mounting exhilaration at the
sweeping vistas: distant Windermere is a long blue ribbon snaking south
towards the sea, itself a silver shimmer on the horizon; ahead, the nascent
River Kent cascades down the crags of Hall Cove to feed the Kentmere
Reservoir. From the Nan Bield Pass, climb Harter Fell to continue the high-
level horseshoe, or (better still) turn down past the reservoir and return
through the exquisite pastoral beauty of the valley.On the Kentmere Horseshoe:
Froswick, Thornthwaite Crag,
Hall Cove and Lingmell End
Photo: George Kitching