Coast to Coast UK - Ennerdale Bridge to Seatoller

Today was an epic adventure.

I can’t describe how much I appreciated starting out in thoroughly dry socks and boots thanks to the wonderful staff at the Shepherds Arms and the magic of their drying room. They whisked everything wet away as soon as we arrived and it was all lined up, nice and dry for us to collect after breakfast this morning.

Breakfast in our bellies, lunch in our packs, dry socks and boots, no rain (just mizzle), well-constructed paths – the day began well with so many boxes ticked.

We may have been lulled into a false sense of security on the paved path that led us down to the end of Ennerdale Water, stepping it out to gain valuable time, as we were under no illusions that today was to be a long day. Unfortunately the magnificent views up the lake to Pillar Crag that we had read about in the guidebook were not visible due to the very low cloud and mist, but the lake was a very serene and beautiful.

After studying the route notes we had decided to tackle the lake on the north shore path, as the southern side involved a scramble over a rocky crag, called Anglers Crag, which we thought may be too wet and slippery under the current conditions. This was confirmed by our host at the hotel who advised the north shore track, and later by our Aussie mate Lyndon who told us it had been quite dangerous.

Towards the end of the lake after almost 2 hours walking, we sat at a convenient picnic table for ‘first lunch’, or ‘little lunch’ as Wallsy likes to call it. This was lovely, until the midges started biting; the air was thick with them. So we packed up and moved on. From here the track began to climb but we were still walking on forestry roads, so the going was good.

At one point we startled a deer by the water’s edge, but it took off too quickly for me to get a photo. This sighting brought our wildlife tally to 3, the other two being a fox on the headland at St Bees and a sluggish frog in the middle of the road at the head of the lake. It was a very quiet walk punctuated only by birdsong.

Passing some foresters who seemed to be thinning out some type of pine tree on the roadside, we eventually reached the gate that leads into the most remote Youth Hostel, accessible only on foot, Black Sail YHA. The gate was like a portal that placed us back on rutted, waterlogged  tracks, but the hostel itself was a welcome haven. We had been walking for four hours and second lunch was calling. The hostel boasts an honesty kitchen and provides a place to sit and rest for all passing walkers, so we took the opportunity to join the group of walkers already gathered indoors and allowed ourselves a half hour break to have a hot coffee and some fuel.

We heard tales of the bridge being down over the river and people having to wade across, one woman who had arrived just as we were leaving, had fallen in trying to ford the fast-flowing stream. Fortunately, the Coast to Coast path, took us upwards from the hostel, not down to the river. We were to follow the beck that tumbled down the mountainside; an almost vertical climb that led us up into the clouds. On a clear day the view would have been magnificent as we tackled the ascent, but today, all we could manage was to keep sight of each other.

The going was steep, but almost stair-like, on the rocky path beside the beck (except for the section that had slipped into the beck and was being rebuilt!), so we slowly plodded onward and upward, seeing only a couple of other walkers who passed us and disappeared into the mist. It took a good hour of climbing to reach what appeared to be the top – a fell called Grey Knotts, at an elevation of just over 697m. This collection of grey rocky knolls, was shrouded in dense cloud. Our only navigation aids were the gpx file route map on my phone, provided by S-cape and emailed to us before leaving home, and a downloaded Ordnance Survey map on Wallsy’s phone. Other than that, there were helpful stone cairns guiding the way across the top, which you could only just pick out from one to the next.

2 ½ hours after leaving the youth hostel, we were at the top of the Honister Pass slate quarry and back in civilisation. It had been epic and exhilarating (I speak only for myself here), but there was a great sense of achievement in having pushed ourselves through less than ideal conditions and reached the other side. No time for celebration yet though, we still had to wind our way down Honister Pass and into the hamlet of Seatoller, known as the wettest place in England, although there was no rain to be had today.

We arrived at our hotel, Glaramara, at 6pm for a welcome hot shower and stunning meal. There is no doubt that we will both sleep well tonight.

Its a long way to the top!