UK COAST TO COAST ADVENTURE JOURNAL | Day 4

Day four on my UK coast to coast hiking adventure involved a significant weather-related decision. You know that phrase “no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothing” (or whatever the exact saying is)? This day was a useful reminder that sometimes there is such a thing as bad weather, and you should pay attention to it, making your choices accordingly.

There are three route options to get from Grasmere to Patterdale. Each goes up as far as Grisedale Tarn, from where you can take one of three prongs. The most direct route heads down into and through the valley. Alternatively, you can head up along the ridge of St Sunday Crag, or you can choose to climb up the mighty Helvellyn and down via the foreboding Striding Edge.

Here to Hike a Mountain

I think it’s fair to say we were very much here to hike Helvellyn. This would be our third “high route” of the coast to coast in a row, and it would be a biggie. Forget Red Pike of day two and Helm Crag of day three, it was the opportunity to hike Helvellyn that was the primary reason for us making that baggage transfer decision I talked about back in my day zero post.

If you’ve been reading Splodz Blogz for a little while, you may also know that this was to be third time lucky for me and this particular Lake District mountain. I’ve travelled to Cumbria on two previous occasions specifically to bag this one, but both times I was very much weathered-out of this bucket list summit. I don’t know why exactly, but I really wanted it. And as you will learn through reading this adventure journal post, I still want it…

UK COAST TO COAST HIKE ADVENTURE JOURNAL

Day 4 | Wednesday 13 October | Grasmere to Patterdale

More about that decision later, but first let’s go back to waking up in the grounds of the beautiful YHA Grasmere Butharlyp Howe, as that is where day four of my coast to coast hiking experience began.

I didn’t have such a great sleep in my little tent as on previous nights. A combination of the guy in the tent the other side of the small camping field having the noisiest sleeping mat and bag combo known to camping, the semi-regular rain showers sounding a lot heavier than they actually were, and having to get up for a midnight wee and therefore put on my waterproof gear to walk the short distance to the main house waking me up completely. Not a terrible sleep, but not great.

Still, I woke up feeling decent enough, ready for another good day hiking up and down hills in the Lake District. Sticking with our mutually agreed-upon routine of getting packed up before breakfast, I got myself up and organised and inside the warm YHA building by 7.30am.

Sulking Quietly

Unsurprisingly, my tent went away wet again. We had a less leaky sky by the morning, but things are just going to be damp when you are packing up before sunrise in autumn. A bit of a downer, because we knew it would be that way for every single day of this hike; it was something we just had to sulk to ourselves about in the moment and move on quickly. We couldn’t let it ruin the day.

With my red duffel bag packed up and in the YHA lobby, it was time to get fed. The breakfast options here weren’t as varied as at Buttermere, but that was probably for the best, I really did overeat the previous morning. A sausage bap and cup of tea later, we were doing our last morning chores and getting ready to head out on the trail.

Valley to Valley  

Starting in the valley and ending in the next valley meant only one thing – our walk started up hill. First, we had to back track just a little to return to Easdale, before heading north past Thorney Haw Hostel and crossing the River Rothay and the A591 at Mill Bridge, close to the Traveller’s Rest. From there we picked up a bridleway which would take us all the way up to Grisedale Tarn.

Despite being dry overhead, the bridleway was pretty wet. It was just that kind of path, I imagine it’s like that all the time, with water runoff taking the path of least resistance off the hills above. A bit up the path there was a ford (complete with footbridge) where we could go left or right, a choose your own adventure moment. The guidebook suggested the left route following Little Tongue Beck was steeper, whereas the right route continuing along Tongue Gill was a steadier climb and was slabbed for the most part.

When we got to the fork, we had no choice but to take the right-most path. I mean, we did, but we were inclined to take heed of the sign left on the footbridge. A local noted that the route up Little Tongue Gill was no good at that time, advising us to go past the old reservoir, cross a stream, and follow the route up that side. Okay, done.

Hiking to Bon Jovi

The ascent was gradual in the main, and I felt reasonably okay all morning. I wasn’t quick by any stretch of the imagination, but it was fine. Even on the steeper sections, which were definitely hard going, but didn’t last long.

I got into a rhythm I had been missing when hiking up Red Pike, helped by my poles and some random old songs that kept running through my head (it’s cool to hike to Bon Jovi’s Something for the Pain and Blaze of Glory, isn’t it?!).  

We had a short snack stop in the little dipped area of House Moss before continuing up the last few very steep metres up Grisedale Hause and through Hause Gap. While the forecast had been pretty rubbish, the weather had been very kind indeed until we got to the tarn.

As we crested over the ridge and caught our first glimpses of the famous mountain lake, slightly lower than we were, we were in full cloud cover. Someone had stolen both St Sunday Crag and Helvellyn, and all of a sudden it was wet, windy and cold.

Rain Stops Play

I think we both knew the second we walked through the gap in the stone wall at the southern end of Grisedale Tarn, that this was as high as we were going to be walking that day. I mean, we’re talking total cloud cover, very damp, and very windy.

We were only at about 570 (ish) metres above sea level at this point; Helvellyn was way up in the sky at 950m. That’s up in the sky that had enveloped everything. And not only that, our route off Helvellyn would be Striding Edge, which is precarious in the best weather conditions.

There was absolutely no other decision to be made, and while we were both very disappointed, there was no need for any discussion on the matter. It was a done deal, no question.

We might have been using this coast to coast hike as an opportunity to stretch and challenge ourselves, but we’re not stupid and we know our limits. Helvellyn in that kind of weather was far beyond anything we’d consider sensible, and we very much hoped no-one was up there in that moment.

Down to the Valley

We headed around the tarn where we met and chatted with a couple of guys taking a break in the shelter of some rocks having come down off Helvellyn due to the weather. They, along with two mountain bikers who came along shortly afterwards having turned back on their attempt to summit the mountain, confirmed our decision was the right one.

We therefore took the easy path down into Grisedale valley, doing our best to enjoy the descent even though it was not the one we’d hoped for.

Just below the tarn we were sure to touch the Brothers’ Parting Stone, where Wordsworth was said to last meet with his brother back in 1800, and then made no apologies about checking the door to Ruthwaite Lodge, a privately owned climbing hut, just in case it was one of the rare days it was open. It wasn’t, but it was worth a try.

Sheltered by the steep mountains either side of us, it was a lovely and easy walk into Patterdale, following Grisedale Beck as it got wider and wider. We even managed to stop for a decent length lunchbreak in the dry after we crossed the river on a footbridge, brewing up soup and tea and enjoying the calm.

It might not have been the route we’d planned to hike, but it was absolutely stunning, and there is no doubt my knees – and Jenni’s knees – were grateful for the easy day.

At just shy of nine miles, and with the terrain being easy going in the main, we were in Patterdale by 1.30pm. Half a day, really, but that’s the way things go sometimes – and let’s face it, we were safe and warm here, we might not have been if we’d have done that high route option.

Nobody’s Home

Our chosen campsite in Patterdale was at Side Farm, very slightly off the route. Being so early, it wasn’t too surprising we couldn’t raise anyone at the farm, and the onsite tearoom was closed (boo!), so we had to make other plans for the afternoon. If we’d have been carrying our own kit, we’d have pitched up first and paid later, one of the days using baggage transfer had a downside.

We walked up the road for a mile or so looking for a farm shop we saw a sign to, but it turned out to be a shop selling wool, so instead we headed to the walker friendly bar in the Patterdale Hotel where we warmed up and rested with homemade soup and a sandwich, and made use of the wifi and plug sockets.

In need of some supplies, we decided to walk up to Glenridding, to the outdoors shop and grocers Jenni knew were there. I say decided to walk, we did look at the buses, and then waited at the stop, but nothing came so we just sucked it up and got on with it.

In all we walked at least an extra four miles that afternoon, so our very short day became a pretty standard length one in the end, and it meant we’d resupplied, rather than napping in our tents all afternoon. I mean, a nap would have been nice, I wouldn’t have complained, but it wasn’t on the cards this time.

Side Farm Camping

We headed back to the campsite and this time met the owner, conversing with her via the upstairs window. We dutifully paid our £10 each through the letterbox, fetched our bags from the barn, and made our way down to the camping field.

This was the first time we’d had to carry our heavy duffel bags further than a few steps, and it was a bit awkward. Still, for the benefits of not having a massive pack on the hike, and being able to carry a bit more stuff to keep me comfortable, those ten minutes of pain were an inexpensive price to pay. I admit that writing this now, using my journal entry for the day to put this post together, we could probably have asked to borrow a wheelbarrow to transport them. Not sure why we didn’t think of that at the time. Oh well!   

We pitched up at the bottom of the field, which sits on the banks of Ullswater. It is a beautifully located site, with decent facilities, including hot showers with excellent water pressure, and a laundry room with drying area. I would absolutely come and stay here again sometime.

Looking back to our route from the campsite, we could see the mountains were still very much deep in cloud. I was kind of glad the weather up on the tops didn’t improve, as it meant we were 100% right in our decision to come down into the valley rather than waiting it out in the hope of getting over the top. But it would have been nice to have that view from the campsite. Another time.

Last Orders

The village of Patterdale was about a 15-minute walk from where we’d pitched our tents, and we made the trip back in the evening to eat dinner at the White Lion Inn rather than dining on one of the dehydrated meals we’d been carrying. We were definitely both of the opinion we should always eat real food when it was available, as we knew there would be times later in the hike there wouldn’t be any.

I had curry, which was delicious, and we ended up hanging around there for the whole evening, chatting to the guy behind the bar. I don’t think I’ve ever been the last customer in a pub before, long distance hiking does funny things to me! Admittedly it wasn’t particularly late, only about 9.30pm, but this is village life in the Lake District. The relatively early hour didn’t make the walk back to the farm any less dark, though – it felt a lot later than it was.

We knew the next day was going to be a biggie, the guidebook promised it would be one of the hardest days of the whole coast to coast expedition, and so we got ourselves to bed, grateful for the opportunity to rest and recover that afternoon.

Reflections on Coast to Coast Day 4

Day four of my UK coast to coast hiking experience did not provide the thirds I’d hoped it would. It was not the day we completed three high route options in a row, and there was no third time lucky for me in getting up Helvellyn. While I’m still a little disappointed about that, even ten months later, I am happy in the knowledge that the mountains of the Lake District aren’t going anywhere, and my time to bag that particular bucket list summit will come.

What day four didn’t offer in good weather and big views from the top of a mountain, it did provide in beautiful scenery. There is no denying that. The route up to the tarn was just wonderful, with its waterfalls and rugged slopes. The path down into the valley, following Grisedale Beck, was simply gorgeous. Even Grisedale Tarn, in full-on cloud, was spectacular; as atmospheric as it gets – even a little bit eerie.

An Opportunity to Recover

If nothing else, that meandering valley path was an important opportunity to stretch the legs, and take a bit of time to recover before things got really steep again.

I’ve long believed the phrase “there’s no such thing as bad weather” is a recipe for disaster. Looking back, I am glad we experienced that bad weather on a day which had a sensible alternative option for us to choose. I mean, we didn’t even have to choose, it was obvious. We were easily able to walk down off the hill without any difficulty or worry, and continued on our merry way. Our plan B was handed to us on a plate.

We even had time to stock up on extra supplies with our little side trip to Glenridding, which would help make the next few days even nicer than they would have been otherwise. All hikes are made better with a full snack bag.