Crinkle Crags

Much too good to be missed . . .  this is a climb deserving of high priority wrote Alfred Wainwright in his Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells. I'd been wanting to walk the Crinkles for ages, and this was finally my chance — my Great Langdale campsite lay on their very doorstep. But would they remain free from cloud? At 10 am last Saturday the weather was clear, but by 11 am the mist had rolled in. This was the view from Pike of Blisco (705 m) towards the Langdale Pikes . . . 

From the delightfully rocky summit of Pike of Blisco I descended a stone staircase to Red Tarn, then climbed up again to Great Knott (696 m). (Ah, 'twas ever thus in the Lake District — up and down, up and down . . . ) I enjoyed this wild panorama from my lunchtime picnic spot by the cairn on Great Knott . . .  

Mist still swirled in the gullies . . .

. . . but by the time I reached the Crinkles' serrated and complicated ridge, it had all but lifted.

The Crinkles' traverse is a highlight of Lake District fell walking. There are five distinct  peaks and depressions (the 'crinkles'), which are much more obvious from the valley below. While you're walking them — or should I say stumbling over them in intense bursts of bouldery ups and downs — they seem to go on for ever. But the experience is unforgettable, and the views are immense. 

How about this elevated prospect over Langdale?

Or this green gully between two towering cliff gates?

Here you can see about half the whole stupendous ridge in one shot . . . 

And here are the first three crinkles with a mountain backdrop behind . . .

Looking west there's the magnificent skyline of Sca Fell (964 m) and Scafell Pike (977 m)  — England's two highest mountains — separated by the notched ridge of Mickledore (the big depression centre left). 

One of the Three Tarns on the col between Crinkle Crags and Bowfell. Here I took the long path of descent over the Band and back down to Great Langdale, where I relished a pint of real ale in the Hikers' Bar at the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel . . . The whole circular mountain trip had taken me six hours.  

The Langdale Pikes Revisited

At the weekend I camped for three nights in the mountainous heart of the English Lake District — in Great Langdale at the foot of the Langdale Pikes. The photo shows Great Langdale Beck, Lingmoor Fell and the knobbly protrusion of Side Pike.

I'd climbed the Pikes before in 2007, but just knew I had to do it again. The view downstream from the top of Stickle Ghyll was sublime — so wild, so savagely beautiful.

My first Pike was Harrison Stickle, the highest Pike of the group (736 m). I followed a clear path which curved its way up to the rocky summit. The climb looked intimidatingly steep from below, but proved easier than expected.

From the eastern slopes of Harrison Stickle one could appreciate the splendid isolation of Stickle Tarn. 

My next Pike was Pike of Stickle.

As I approached Loft Crag, my third and final Pike, this view of the Langdale and Mickleden valleys suddenly opened up. It was simply breathtaking. The patch of water cupped between the fells is Blea Tarn.

Loft Crag. In the distance you can see Lake Windermere, England's largest natural lake.

The glorious greenness of Langdale in the late afternoon sun.

I was almost back on the valley floor when I spotted this interesting alignment of Herdwick sheep.

Mountain And Estuary

This is Great Langdale, one of the most impressive, stunningly beautiful valleys in the Lake District. On the distant mountain horizon you can see Crinkle Crags (left) and Bowfell (right), separated by a broad col; the two lumpy and rocky peaks on the far right of the photo are Pike of Stickle and Harrison Stickle, two of the Langdale Pikes. With the exception of Crinkle Crags (how about it, Dominic?), I have climbed all these fells at one time or another. 

My sister-in-law beachcombing the western shore of Morecambe Bay.

Fossilised horn coral we found on the beach near Aldingham. 

Figure in an edgescape. Evening light on Morecambe Bay. Farewell Furness, farewell Lakeland, farewell mountain stream and flooding estuary, farewell bird, beast and flower, rock, stone and cairn — but I will be back.