My Blencathra 9 looks ambitious on paper and somehow still grows once you are out on the fells. Built around Mosedale and the wide shoulders of Blencathra, this 34km route links a rough, fascinating chain of Wainwrights from Carrock Fell to Bowscale Fell, with Great Calva tucked in behind Blencathra to give the day even more reach and a real sense of being out on the far side of things.
The Blencathra 9
Route Map and GPX
A big Blencathra-area round linking nine Wainwrights around Mosedale and Saddleback, all stitched into one very long mountain day. This is a serious outing with a lot of ground to cover, plenty of escape options and a mix of easier ridge walking, rougher fell terrain and broad, exposed tops.
For the best ‘experience’ using the map, click on that box in the top left to go ‘full screen’ (Esc to come back). On mobile: Zoom by pinching and click to reveal names. Desktop: Hold CTRL and roll the mouse, hover to reveal a Wainwright’s name and see information.
Start
Summit
Water
Place of interest
Caution / Escape
Parking
Refresh
ToiletsCircular Route at a glance
- Distance: 34km (21 miles)
- Ascent: 1763m (5784ft)
- Time: 12 hours
- Start: Apronful of Stones
- Difficulty: Long long day
- Map: OS Explorer OL5
- AW Book: \northern Fells
Wainwrights
- Carrock Fell
- High Pike
- Knott
- Great Calva
- Mungrisedale Common
- Blencathra
- Bowscale Fell
- Bannerdale Crags
- Souther Fell
Field notes
- Terrain: A real mixture of lanes, grassy fell, rough trods, boggier sections, broad tops, stony summit ground and a much sharper mountain feel once you get onto Blencathra.
- Navigation: Easy enough in parts, but this is a serious navigation day in clag because several of the middle fells are broad, vague and can blur into each other when visibility goes. This is not the round to drift through on vibes alone, it’s a long way home.
- Parking: Never had a problem at Apronful of Stones, some spots around Mosedale/Bowscale as well to start there.
Watch out for
The real danger here is not one technical section. It is the accumulation. The round is very long, remote in places, and mentally draining if the weather comes in. Great Calva and Mungrisdale Common can feel very big and empty in poor visibility, and by the time you reach Blencathra (the furthest point on route) you may already have a full day in your legs. That is when sloppy nav, poor eating, cramp and bad decisions creep in. Treat it like a proper mountain round, not a box-ticking ramble.
Why do it
Because it is one of those rounds that feels like you’ve properly crossed a whole district of hills, not just gone up and down one famous summit. You get the lonely northern tops, the odd charm of places like Great Lingy Hut, the sense of space around Great Calva and Mungrisdale, the drama building again reaching Blencathra, Bannerdale and Bowscale. It is a cracking way to gather a whole cluster of Wainwrights in one memorable hit if you can handle it.
Dog friendly?
For most dogs, no. Not because every section is technical, but because the day is very long and the ground is varied and tiring. A very fit, experienced mountain dog in good conditions might be fine, but this is not one I’d casually badge as dog friendly.
Is this walk for you?
This is an awesome route if you want a hell of a long day in the Northern Fells away from the usual single-summit circuits, tourists and don’t mind putting in the miles for a broader sense of journey. The lesser travelled back of Blencathra fells are beautiful. With the back of Skiddaw fells I think they’re in a league of their own, but this route is too long and committing to treat as a casual stroll. Water sources are only relied on if they have a name!
My Blencathra 9 hike
I’ve invited nobody because I didn’t want to let anyone down by pulling out half way, like I did with John (Beamson) heading up Scales Fell to Blencathra. I know, we had a great day anyway. In fact, a fantastic day because that’s the day I met John and we’ve spoken almost everyday since, run loads of events and retreats together, and had lots of adventures. I digress.
Even though I plan on getting back to the van tonight, my bag includes my camping gear in case I’m tempted (or stranded) and is only 6kg all in, there are plenty of water sources (blue markers on the map) and lots of ‘get outs’ (red markers) so it’s a safe one for me but would be nice to complete and get back to Teresa and the boys in the caravan at Troutbeck below!
I have thought lots about this since doing it, I would have loved to have camped on Blencathra’s summit on this walk. Definitely another time – in fact, here’s one – The New Blencathra Summit Stone
Here goes.
The steep ascent of Carrock Fell
I start at a lovely little not-so-well-known parking spot I’ve been to quite a few times. Apronful of Stones it’s called, way up the Mungrisedale/Mosedale/Calebreak road (actually doean’t have a name) off the A66, and just under the side of Carrock Fell. I assume it’s named that because the crag deposited stone, draping like an apron – rather than the farmer’s wife across the road used to collect small rocks for her Mediterranean style garden. It’s one of the most peaceful places you can park in the Lakes and that’s something I love. The skies are dark and the moving cars are few.
The climb is steep, nothing too dangerous but 426m from the road to the summit. I always found it intriguing that there is a ‘fort’ marked on the OS map, just before you reach the summit. It’s a genuine prehistoric enclosure – a Scheduled Monument, but nobody knows whether it is Iron Age, Neolithic, or something in between; even its purpose is still debated.
What’s amazing about Carrock Fell is that, coming at it this way, you see nothing but the side of the hill and relatively flat farm land the other way for an hour ascending, then all of a sudden you’re on top of the world. This is the start of an amazing day and we’re already right up there.
Once I’ve caught my breath, had a late breakfast of overnight oats in the fort and got my summit photo (171 down, 43 to go!), it’s time for a 3km stroll over to High Pike. It takes about an hour and with about 120m of ascent, it really is a stroll and enjoyable with views all around the Blencathra and Skiddaw fells.
A stroll over to High Pike
High Pike is another I haven’t been up until today – 172 down, 42 to go! The weather for me was just like this in the photo above, perfect, although there’s a wee storm due in a couple of hours. Storms don’t worry us, do they?
You can’t call most of the Wainwrights at the back of the Northern Fell mountains. They’re much more like the rolling hills of Yorkshire. On a clear sunny day they are breath-taking, on a claggy day they bring challenges but they’re also very peaceful as everyone nearby is either on Blencathra, Skiddaw or in Keswick. Win win.
The Great Lingy Hut
Another strollable leg now but as time’s going to be tight I take a little run. 1.5km will take me to the Great Lingy Hut. The Great Lingy Hut is one of those unlikely little Lakeland shelters that looks as if a twister dropped it there with Dorothy inside. Perched high above Mosedale on the slopes of Great Lingy Hill, close to the Cumbria Way, it is a tiny wooden bothy with space for only a handful of walkers. Before becoming the bleak but welcome refuge it is now, it is said to have started life with Carrock Mine and later moved to serve as a shooting hut. These days it is maintained as a simple mountain shelter: no luxury, no fuss, just a hard-earned patch of cover in a very big landscape.
400 million year old Knott
Another 2km takes me up to Knott. I did this with the fells at the back of Skiddaw a year ago so I don’t get to tick it off in the Hill Lists app but it’s nice to be here without the winter weather. Geologically, Knott is a summit of hard-baked Skiddaw rocks: ancient seabed mudstones and sandstones metamorphosed into hornfels by the heat of the Skiddaw Granite, funny how we take things for granted isn’t it? Treading over 400 million year old blobs of baked mud.
So now it starts to get interesting. I’ve not captured what came but you’ll just have to use your imagination. The storm that was forecast had no name. We’d had a warm spell in the week and following that was an outbreak of thunderstorms. When you’re up on top of a group of mountains far from home and you hear the boom of thunder, you’re in the wrong place.
Just before dropping down to the embryonic Wiley Gill, I sit, enjoying the tranquillity and view of the big boys, but mainly checking my next bit of the route. Nice little photo showing Skiddaw over Little Calva on the right, then left to Little Man and even Lonscale Fell over the summit of Great Calva, on which you can just make out the cairn.
I scoop a bit of water out of the stream and warm some rice in the stove. Beautiful having a brew or cooked food on the side of the hills. Then a great crash! Oh sh!t. I knew it was coming but you know, adventure comes first I suppose. Before hearing the next one, the sky lights up. This one woke me up. It’s very close, no warning.
Lunch ended quite abruptly that day. I quickly threw my kit in the bag and lowered into the wee valley of the stream. There wasn’t much I could do. It either passes me by or I pass, bye! I sat down as low as I could get, into a ball at moments. After a dozen or so exhilarating cracks of thunder (it really was a mixture of exciting and scary as hell) – the heavens open.
People have commented in the past about pitching a tent in a thunder storm (I may have done it once or twice before) but the rain was biblical. I carry the Trailstar, sometimes a smaller tarp I made myself, the Whisper, with me on every walk. It’s magical to have a shelter when you really need it. I can get the tarp pitched in seconds. I do, and I lie underneath as low as I can between the blades of grass. If this long haul isn’t satisfying enough! The walk so far has been Samuel Barber’s – Adagio for Strings, the last 10 minutes has been Metallica’s – Master of Puppets. Obey your master!
Great Calva at last
Great Calva is the bugger I didn’t have time to get to last year, so that’s the important one back here, taking me to 173. I always planned to do Carrock and High Pike then race down by Carrock Beck to the north, but having Great Calva at the back of my mind, I devised this monster of a hike instead.
We have to pass round Little Calva so I may as well go over the top, may be daft enough one day to ‘do the Birketts’, of which I’m sure that’ll be one. I’m so happy to be doing Great Calva this way. I had it planned as a night hike through the valleys in one of my attempts at making it an interesting one but decided to go ‘the long way round’.
The next part of the route takes me right down into the bit that most Wainwright walkers will never go. For good reason, someone might say, but it’s amazing to be able to get down into what might still be classed as Mosedale, along the River Caldew and the Cumbrian Way. There’s a footbridge across Wiley Gill. It’s a beautifully remote part of the Northern Fells, hence I can’t find a bridge over the Caldew but after the dry spell the water isn’t deep, I find the calmest section and wade across.
Mungrisdale Common
Best known to walkers of the Wainwrights for its dreary reputation. Alfred Wainwright himself says it’s only appeal is to sheep munching on it’s grass, and the only humans daft enough to wander up it should be shepherds looking for the sheep.
Although it’s taken me over an hour to trudge up the slope by White Gill to Mungrisedale Common, I thought it was actually quite pleasant. On a clear day, the vista, although blocked by the two big fellas, Blencathra and Skiddaw, is nice in that it gives you a sense of being in the middle of it all, away from the madding crowds. Would make for a lovely camp site on a dry spell. Its peaty boggy surface, resting on some of Lakeland’s oldest rock is actually protected.
I didn’t get a chance to visit the Cloven Stone to the west or see the granite in Sinen Gill (this route is long enough already) – maybe if you have photos you would send them to be included.
Mungrisedale Common takes me to 174 with only 40 to go now.
Beautiful Blencathra – AKA Saddleback
Continuing the trudge up to Blencathra summit, things get more interesting. Although Wainwright dedicates 36 sheets to Blencathra, I won’t bother much here because it was very cloudy and I’ve talked enough about it in other posts. Will include links.
The White Cross on the saddle between Blencathra and Atkinson Pike, which I haven’t mentioned before, is a striking quartz-stone landmark, enlarged by Harold Robinson of Threlkeld in the 1940s, and thought to have begun as a small memorial to a dead walker. Both works must have taken some commitment. Some graves (not that this is) at ground level don’t even get one stone.
I don’t go anywhere near Sharp Edge on this occasion but if you want to read about that, why not have a look at my story of Descending Sharp Edge with Alan Hinkes.
In fact on this occasion, although I drop down to the east of Sharp Edge heading for Bowscale, I don’t even see it. The best I got was an eerie shot of the crags along Foule Crag.
I’m making great time and I get a text from the wife saying that her and the lads have driven up to the caravan. It was too early to camp atop Blencathra and now I think I may as well go and join them in Troutbeck. Summiting Bannerdale Crags then Bowscale was the plan an hour ago, camping at Bowscale Tarn and leaving Souther Fell for another day but as I sit on the rock shaped like a chair around abouts where I took the Foule Crag photo, I replan – Bowscale, back to Bannerdale, then in for a penny, in for a pound, may as well do Souther and get it all done today.
Bowscale Fell
Instead of going up to the crags, I take a bearing for Bowscale and go off-piste, directly for the pile of stones at 702m. This will take me to 175 Wainwrights, 39 to go!
The most interesting part of Bowscale Fell is the basin of water below, carved out over tens of thousands of years before the ice finally retreated 15,000 years ago. I took a client up there from Bowscale village one time. When were unpacking, I found that she’s carried two big bottles of water up there, although we both had water filters and a tarn full of fresh water.
I do a u-turn and head on a bearing south. I’m weary now and a simple bearing like this, where you have a catching point (like a cliff edge) can be very handy and energy saving, especially in crap weather. It’s clear enough now though and there’s a neat enough track taking me straight to my next, and 8th Wainwright of the day.
Bannerdale Crags
There are a couple of old lead mines in Bannerdale, of which I haven’t visited (and won’t be today) – it’s a long hike up Bannerdale to see these ‘caves’ (and I read they’re very wet, one surrounded by a swamp).
On the summit, which is around the edge to the south, and marked by a cairn, I’m not getting the best from the fell at all. That will come later, on my 9th Wainwright of the day.
Let’s be clear now, Wainwright’s top, favoured because of it’s view of the crags themselves, is not actually the summit of the fell. The highest point, not quite so interesting, is 100m or so away to the south-west. If you’re picky about your summits make a note now. The outlook over to Sharp Edge from here is apparently a good one but I’ll have to snap that another day as the cloud still persists around the whole of the higher ground
There’s a good chance that the quicker way for me to get to Souther Fell from here is down White Horse Bent. It doesn’t look very steep on the Ordnance Survey map but at this point I’m knackered and can’t chance it being full of heather or bracken. It’s summer time and I don’t want to even think of wading through the bush, or having to double back up again.
Souther Fell and shocking views of Bannerdale Crags
I take the comforting option back towards my rock-chair and then follow the Glenderamackin down it’s valley between Bannerdale and Scales to a footbridge, where I cross to ascend the 150m or so to Souther Fell, my 9th Wainwright today.
Be sure you summit the northern lump, should you be coming and going from the south. That’s Wainwright’s preference, and marginally the higher top but in mist you could be kicking yourself.
What’s great about Souther Fell is the view of it’s neighbour. Otherwise, it’s just a lump. The photo above was taken in winter, probably a better time to see the crags and how pronounced the steep ‘east-ridge’ is, coming down from the summit. Another 20 thousand years of the ice age might have given us a mini Sharp Edge.
Instead of following the ridge of Souther Fell north, drop off early to your right to meet a path that skirts the bottom of the hill which will take you out to Mungrisedale.
A pint of lemonade (or beer) at the pub is a tremendously good call, whether your wife and kids are in bed or not.
Bear in mind that I still have 4.3km to walk on the lane in the dark back to the van! And with a little moon light, I didn’t even need a head torch.
This photo was taken another time during the Perseids meteor shower, the family in the back of the van at the time, wrapped in quilts to see the shooting stars (one of which appears in the photo).
Right now though, the family is in bed. 34km of sweat and I get to the caravan and slip under the sheets at silly’o’clock trying not to wake anyone.
Read Next…
Finding the Priest Hole
The best time to go looking for a cave in a vertical crag is in the dark in the depths of winter – said nobody ever! However, it seemed challenging so we thought we’d camp as well.