Lao Tzu’s words , ‘a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’, seem particularly apt for mountains. Standing at the foot of a mountain’s great bulk seems daunting, even frighening; steep rocky craggs, precipitous drops, impossible ridge lines, but as one walks ‘into them’, passes open up, paths emerge and little by little you rise, and what seemed impossible was really just a process of putting one foot in front of another.
Di’s going to enjoy the sun around and about our little seaside cottage today and I’m off to climb Helvellyn, a 950m peak between the lakes of Thirlmere and Ullswater. The weather forecast is good however mountain reports tell of ice and snow on the “edges” recommending spikes, or crampons and ice axes, so I select a route avoiding Strider and Swirral edges, the rocky teethed ridges circling their arms out west from Helvellyn around Red Tarn 232m directly below its summit. My path is longer though, about 19km with an 805m lift from Ullswater and traversing five peaks; Whiteside, Lower Man, Helvellyn, Nethermost Pike, High Cragg and Dollywaggon Pike before dropping down to Grisedale Tarn and on into the verdant Grisedale valley.
The walk up from the picturesque village of Glenridding is very pleasant following the Glenridding Beck (river) up the valley through some very fair wooded areas, past (inevitably) stone cottages and across some sheep paddocks before pushing up through the tree line. There’s a camp site with tented climbers in various stages of climber reasiness, giving it a mountaineering basecamp feel (although likely as not there’s no Costa’s coffee van at Everest base camp).
Here there’s the remains of an old lead and silver mine that operated continuously for 200 years and perhaps for 300+ years all up officially closing in 1962 (having produced 2.4Mt of lead and 2 million ounces of silver from a single vein) and notices telling skiiers to take care! The Lakes District Ski Club has a voluntarily operated single pomma lift resort up above the mine . The 2011 flushing toilet construction marked its 75th anniversary.
Whiteside is a quieter approach to Helvellyn and there’s nobody here – it’s delightful; the crunch of gravel, rushing water, now far below, birdsong and my own pulse throbbing in my ears, the only sounds as I punch up the long rising straight from the mine to Whitesides zigzag ascent. There’s not a breath of wind, the sun splashes in and out of morning cloud and I’m sweating hard. It’s the perfect environment to make believe a solo ascent of Anapurna, man against mountain, testing his mettle against the elements, precipitous drops to certain death on either side…..
At White Side peak I’m intercepted by a six foot four bloke in trousers, T-Shirt and walking poles all black with thick burnt-orange hair and mahogany sculpted beard . His striding pace up the steep ascent from Thirlmere seems hardly to have drawn his breath. Violent air sucking sounds muffle my response to his deep mountain-melodious salutations and I’m left nodding a breathless goodbye as he trots off back down the mountain to complete his morning warm up. But it gets worse.
In the saddle between White Side and Lower Man, Swirral edge cutting a dramatic, jagged sillouette between the pointed top of Catstye Cam and Helvellyn’s peak to the South East, two fell runners pass me three times jogging between White Side and Lower Man before heading off over Helvellyn and home. ‘Got to go’, one says, after a brief chat, ‘got a funeral this morning then some drinking to do, lots of drinking’. I can hear them chuckling and chatting as they charge off up the steep rocky path ahead, no more puffed than a couple of pool side deck chair occupants.
Then I’m passed by a bloke with a dog on a mountain bike. He’s racing his mate who’s currently shouldered his bike to jog across Swirral edge’s icy jagged teeth in the distance. On Helvellyn’s peak I meet a couple with two dogs, one a purse sized, blow-dried guniea pig with a gold necklace that’s summitted Helvellyn three times.
Maintaining my imagined solo ascent of Anapurna becoming increasingly more difficult, I content myself with a ham and cheese sandwich at the top and take in the views out over Red Tarn to Ullswater. The mountain mists roll in creating a chilly mystique before being chased off by the sun, whitening the remaining snow and making for a pleasant descent.
With the majority of the work done, it’s a lovely undulating walk over Nethermost Pyke, High Cragg and Dollywagon with ever-changing perspectives back across to the summit of Helvellyn. Descending into the Grisdale valley clear mountain waters cascade down over the steep rocky terrain eventually slowing to a more liesurely pace, as they meander through the green pastures below and flowing, finally, into the clear depths of Ullswater.
Six and a half hours all up, seven if you count the beer at the Glenridding Inn. We compare notes back at Baycliff and it seems it’s been a cracking sunny day by the sea as well. Tomorrow, we agree, some time out on lake Windermere.
