The Udale fells – Back o’ Skiddaw

Back in the Northern Fells, and I’m here today in the depths of winter to tackle the Uldale Fells, seven hills tucked away at the back of Skiddaw that most people never look at. Once again I’m hunting for one of a handful of parking spaces, I’ve no proper winter gear with me, and I’ll end up racing the light before the day’s out.

Is this walk for you?

This suits a walker who wants distance and solitude over drama. There’s no scrambling and no exposure, just a long day on rolling, grassy fells with a genuine chance of not seeing another soul. Eighteen kilometres and seven Wainwright summits is a proper day out though, especially with short winter daylight to work against, so it’s not one for a late start or a first outing in the hills.

My Udale Fells story

I’m told there are a couple of parking spaces at a point on the OS map labelled Longlands. There are five at a squeeze, and I take number four. From there it’s a relatively flat two kilometres south, along Longlands Beck and handrailing a wall, down to the River Ellen, the water-shed for every fell I’m walking today.

Great Cockup — a steep ascent

Crossing the river and taking the trail west, around the northern base of Great Cockup and out towards Little Cockup, with a fine view of Binsey and Over Water over my right shoulder, I reach the point where there’s nothing for it but to start climbing. There’s a path up to here from Orthwaite apparently, but that won’t give me the round walk I’m after, so it’s straight up the hill over tough clumps of grass. Alfred reckons burned heather is the fell’s only interesting feature, but under the snow that’s no consolation at all.

There’s a lot of snow on this north side, even at low level, so by the time I start the steep ascent at only 370m (1,200ft), the frozen grass is crumbling underfoot and my footprints are 4-6 inches deep. My wet, unwaxed two-season boots are making my feet cold already, but I’m fine. I don’t have winter boots yet, but this route doesn’t demand them: no scrambling, and the snow’s dry enough underfoot.

It’s a great workout: 250m (800ft) of ascent in one go over barely a kilometre, and I’m up on the summit, marked by a simple cairn. The view of the pure white north-eastern side of Skiddaw, Bakestall and Broad End, is stunning, especially having been up there myself last Wednesday. The weather is glorious today, very sunny and, although cold, there’s barely any wind. It’s simply a gift, and I’m grateful for it.

I don’t want to waste much time on top beyond marvelling at the view south-west, and taking my usual photos on a fairly cheap digital SLR, to stitch together later in Photoshop.

I do take a pew by the cairn for a few seconds to check Alfred’s book now I’m at height, and realise I can easily steal Knott on this route. Had I left the van before 11 o’clock, I might have had the confidence to take in Great Calva as well, and saved myself a return trip. But it wouldn’t be wise today, so that one’s for another time.

Meal Fell — a pointy hill with a shelter

Meal Fell is only half an hour away: a kilometre and 100m (300ft) of ascent from Great Cockup. There’s a couple of cairns and a shelter here, where I stop for a photo. It’s a nice hill, sat right in the middle of everything today, and the views are only getting better.

This is a friend of mine on a fine summer’s day. I took her and her son out practicing some navigation for his Duke of Edinburgh Gold.

Great Sca Fell — a beautiful flat hill with stunning views

There’s nearly 150m (500ft) of ascent up to my next hill, Great Sca Fell (this is the great one). A broad, round, flat top with a little cairn in the middle and 360-degree views all around. This is where you realise how close you actually are to Knott, close enough that it feels like you could just keep walking, although Alfred puts it at just 250ft and three-quarters of a mile, and it’s a bit more of a pull than that suggests.

Knott

At 710m (2,329ft), Knott is another flat-topped hill, its cairn almost indistinguishable from the summit around it, and it’s the highest point of an almost windless day. It’s tempting to push on to Great Calva, but I’ve set myself a deadline of 3 o’clock to be back at Great Sca Fell, and it’s already half two. I stick to the plan, and settle for six fells today instead of seven. I’d watched the film Everest with my sons the night before, and at one point in the climb there’s a cut-off of 3 o’clock too, coincidence or not. I won’t tell you how it ends, but he dies.

A while on from this walk, I kick myself for not going for Great Calva. My confidence wasn’t what it is now, there was no tricky ground to navigate, and I had the energy. All I was really concerned about was descending in winter in the dark. After that disappointment, when I finally did go back for Great Calva, I made sure to do it in style.

So I don’t take in Great Calva today, but it’s worth including on the map above, because it’s very doable in a day and probably the best way to tie up the Back o’ Skiddaw fells in one go. It’s just as accessible as Bakestall was, from Peter House Farm, but on this walk it would mean tagging it onto an already long and tough day.

Instead of taking in Great Calva’s 250m of ascent and 300m or so of return climbing, my short-term consolation for today, is that, if I’ve got time before sundown, I can drive the mile over to Binsey Cottage and take a look at Binsey. That eases the disappointment considerably.

Brae Fell — a slightly bigger cairn

First, I need to get back over Great Sca Fell, eat my tuna lunch for a bit of protein, and carry straight on to Brae Fell, which after a little down and a little up is again quite nice. Just a small hill with a slightly bigger cairn than Great Sca Fell’s, but the view is different again: the cloud to the north has cleared, and the Scottish mountains are visible for the first time today.

Longlands Fell — linger here for views to the Scottish mountains

You can’t just go straight from Brae Fell to Longlands Fell. It doesn’t look steep on the map, but take it from me, you’ll be fighting the same tough clumps of grass across the hillside and round the head of a ravine. Stick to the path, it’s far easier going than the direct line looks.

It’s another little hill, but another Wainwright ticked off, the sixth of the day, and a lovely view down to Binsey, which is now, without question, my next destination.

Tick these seven off as you go

Seven on the round, and Binsey to follow. The 214 Wainwrights Checkmap is built for exactly this, colouring in summits as you work your way through the fells, one route at a time.

Shop the Checkmap

The van at Longlands is an easy bee-line from the cairn, and as the sun hangs low in a clear winter sky, I reflect on what’s now behind me. These hills are no mountains, but they’re a genuinely appreciated entry in Wainwright’s book. Skiddaw is jaw-dropping, Blencathra with Sharp Edge is thrilling, but these snow-covered lumps hidden at the back of the northern fells are quietly awe-inspiring in their own right. I’ve missed out on Great Calva today, but I’ll be back for it, with a vengeance.

First, though, I think I’ll get in that van, gather some more gear together, and have my sleep on Binsey.

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