Coast to Coast UK - Seatoller to Grasmere

Today it was a matter of choose your rock carefully!

Making the wrong choice of rock, could see you either up to your ankles in water, or up to your knees in a bog.

We were excited to wake to sunshine and as it was supposedly a shorter walking day, we took a later start, setting off at 0930 to walk up to Stonethwaite Bridge where we would rejoin the Coast to Coast Track. We were perhaps a mile from the start due to the fact that our accommodation had been in the first of the Borrowdale villages, rather than at Rosthwaite at the far end of the valley.

The sun was shining, our wet weather gear was all stowed in our packs, and the cuckoos were calling across the valley as we walked. Wallsy had devised a shortcut on public footpaths, to get us up to Stonethwaite, so the day began with a pleasant walk across fields, through a farmyard (there is a lot of passing through farmyards on public footpaths over here, which seems a bit invasive to us), past a little chapel, an honesty cake shop in a cupboard by the road, and on up the road to Stonethwaite. Here we crossed the bridge onto the track that would take us on the long climb to Lining Crag.

Again we followed beside a beck, Stonethwaite Beck, on a very steep track which took the course of Greenup Gill, a deep ravine carved in another glacial valley, all the way up to the pinnacle of the rocky outcrop that is Lining Crag, at an elevation of 542m. Galleny Force Waterfull was spectacular as we passed, and the series of pools known as the Fairy Glen, was already being well used by families up for the Bank Holiday weekend. The climb was relentless, but the views, something we hadn’t yet experienced, were breathtaking, as we looked back down into the Borrowdale Valley.

We carefully picked our way over streams on the way up, where they frequently crossed the path, as there seems to be so much water coming out of the mountainsides with the recent wet weather, following a particularly wet winter up here. It was not until we neared Lining Crag, all the time looking up at it wondering if we had to climb it, that the walk became really tricky. There were some quite boggy sections as we approached that we had to pick our way across, but they were nothing compared to the rock scramble to reach the top of the crag. Any semblance of path (Wallsy would argue, very little of what we have traversed so far, fits the definition of a path), was lost among the wet boulders, which had water running over them, and bog in between them.

We managed to scramble our way up carefully, without incident, and were rewarded with the most magnificent 360-degree views at the top, across to the other significant Lake District peaks, like Scafell Pike, and Grey Knotts above Honister where we had walked in the mist the previous day. We stopped here for ‘second lunch’; ‘first lunch’ having been about halfway up after our first hour and half of walking, and it was at this point that we realised, the forecast 4 hour walk today, was potentially going to take a great deal longer, unless the going got easier and more straightforward over the top. It was already 1pm and while we had done a great deal of steep walking, we hadn’t ticked off many miles. It’s very disheartening to check the map and see how little distance we have gained, after many hours of walking.

Over the top got boggier, not easier, and while there had been a great deal of track repatriation work carried out, with some sections covered in huge flagstones, much more like Wallsy’s concept of a path, there were still many sections where we had to pick our way carefully, selecting the correct rocks to stand on as we navigated streams and bogs. And we were still climbing! It wasn’t until we had crested the top of Greenup Edge that we began the ruthless descent, again on washed-out, rock-strewn tracks, often where, as Wallsy described it, the concept of a path and a stream seemed to have been confused.

As the afternoon wore on and we crossed ridge after ridge, expecting each one to reveal a view of Grasmere village, our goal for the day, we were instead faced with another valley to cross and another hill to round, with no sign of civilisation. Despite the assurances of some energetic groups who overtook us at every chance, that Grasmere was definitely, ‘Just doon ‘ere, round the bend.’ We began to think that Grasmere was in fact another version of Brigadoon, the mythical and enchanted village in Scotland that only becomes visible to outsiders once every hundred years. We figured we were here in the wrong year!

Eventually, we rounded a bend that revealed fields marked by stone fences, a clear indication of civilisation nearby, and leaving Grasmere common behind, we found ourselves on a paved road leading into the village. We stumbled across our accommodation, knowing only that it was on the road between Easdale and Grasmere, and soon found ourselves settled into a lovely, if quite tiny and sparsely furnished room in the Quaker centre. It was perfect, providing everything we needed after a long day - a hot shower and a bed!

But first of course, there was dinner to be sourced. We were a little concerned that with Grasmere being a popular Bank Holiday weekend destination it might be hard to find a meal, especially as it was already well after 6pm, however, we needn’t have worried. We walked the 5 minutes into the village and saw ‘Freda and Ray’, a lovely, and busy café selling pizza and cocktails. They found a table for us, and we were finally able to sit and relax, resting our aching calves and mull over the day’s adventures.

P.s. There was no wildlife spotted today, but I could make a ‘Sheep of the Lake District’ calendar, with all cute sheep photos I am collecting!