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Sunday, 9th of April
Our next challenge: Crinkle Crags, looming at the head of Oxendale
Go straight to:
Blisco
The Traverse of Crinkle Crags, South to North
Having polished off Bowfell, we decided to go for something a little longer and harder on our second day. The traverse of Crinkle Crags immediately sprang to mind. This is an epic ridge walk, and although we guessed it would be busy (being a Sunday in the Easter holidays), I've long resigned myself to the fact that Lakeland will always be busy!
We chose to climb Pike of Blisco, one of my personal favourites, before tackling the Crinkles. Enthusiastic and loaded with water and energy bars, we made the short climb to the Blea Tarn depression and began the interesting climb to Blisco's summit.
Blisco
Pike of Blisco
Blisco really is a smashing little mountain. Despite standing at a mere 705m, it has a fine pointed peak, a rocky summit plateau, deeply scored flanks, and all the bearing of a far loftier fell. It also offers intimate views of the Langdale heavyweights, and a surprising top-down view of the valley. Add that to the fact that it is always quieter than the bigger mountains, and you have a very rewarding climb.
A vague but largely level path cuts across from the cattle grid and joins the main Blisco ascent path at the beck crossing. The only steepish section of the route, maybe 500 feet in height, then begins its ascent by the banks of a rocky gill. The path is well stepped and zigzagged and is pretty easy by Lakeland standards.
Mighty Bowfell, snow-capped and shrouded in mist, from the ascent of Blisco
The Langdale Pikes across the valley
The views opened up in all directions as we climbed. After we reached the broad, rocky plateau, we could see towards the lower hills surrounding Windermere, and beyond the northern valley wall of Langdale towards the Helvellyn and Fairfield ranges. Despite a murky start, the air gradually cleared.
The summit structure from the rocky plateau
Helvellyn, St Sunday Crag, Fairfield: the royalty of the Eastern Fells on the skyline
We reached the snowline, and as on the previous day, the path became treacherous and icy. We stopped to don crampons and get our ice axes at the ready, however there was no need for excessive protective gear today: despite a chilly wind, there was a lot of power behind the sun and I even began to wonder about how soon snow-blindness starts to set in.
The summit was just as spectacular as I remembered. The view really is first class in all directions, of mountains both nearby (Cold Pike, Crinkles, Bowfell) and far away (the Coniston range, Eastern Fells). It's also possible to see almost the entire length of Langdale, laid out in the shape of a giant S far below.
We met one other discerning mountaineer just below Blisco's summit, who commented on how great the weather was and seemed just as happy to be there as we were.
Blisco's amazing summit. Back in the day this cairn was even taller than it is now, before it was maliciously destroyed and partially rebuilt.
The first two Crinkles on the ridge. Yep, they're big.
Skiddaw's domed summit, far to the north, makes an appearance
We made our descent down the west flank of the mountain, a reasonably gentle but boulder-ridden slope that was tricky work wearing crampons. The snow was melting by this point and we quickly passed below the snowline again, so I stopped to stow my ice axe and crampons, allowing faster progress.
Red Tarn, nestling in an unattractive col between the two mountains, was a busy spot when we reached it. Dozens of people--mostly holidaymakers--were wheezing their way up the pass of Browney Gill to begin the traverse of Crinkle Crags from the south. Not one of them (with the notable exception of two mountaineers with snow testing equipment, possibly working for the avalanche information service or BMC) was properly equipped for the potentially Arctic conditions they might encounter up top. One man was wearing shorts and approach shoes. His legs were turning purple. We later met some people with a token amount of winter gear between them, but I find it astonishing that I only saw a total of four ice axes (exluding our own) during the entire trip. Greater awareness of the potential hazards of winter mountaineering is needed, I think.
By this point my eyes had started to hurt from the reflected sun, so both of us put on our sunglasses to prevent snow-blindness. Plus of course it had the added effect of making us look cool. =D
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The Traverse of Crinkle Crags, South to North
James, en-route to the Crinkles, probably laughing at the guy in shorts
The gentle path between Red Tarn and the first Crinkle of the ridge is clear and well-used, and kept in excellent repair thanks to the work of Fix the Fells. As we ascended the broad fellside out of the col, we passed above the snowline again, and by the time we reached the patch of flattish moorland before the first Crinkle, the snow was deep on the ground once again. We stopped to have a bite to eat and to allow a fairly well-equipped family with several kids to overtake us. They stopped to have a chat on the way past: apparently they had already polished off Blisco and were aiming for the full Langdale Circuit, which presumably meant Blisco, Crinkles, Bowfell, Rossett Pike, and all the Langdale Pikes. With three children under ten. I wished them good luck then casually mentioned that we'd encountered a metre of snow on Bowfell the previous day. The look on the father's face was funny to behold!
The first three Crinkles on the ridge, from the plateau
We spent about fifteen minutes just sitting there and soaking in the view, which was deep, clear and better than anything we could have hoped for given the time of year.
Looking towards the Eastern Fells
The Coniston mountains
Looking down Langdale ... this valley has recently replaced Wasdale as my all-time favourite valley
We soon reached the exciting, rocky ridge of the Crinkles, and were up and over the first peak before we knew it. Ahead lay the second Crinkle, Long Top, home to the overall summit of the ridge, and the most technical point: the Bad Step. Most of the walkers ahead of us were avoiding it by a long and scree-ridden detour which looked thoroughly boring. Besides, last time I was here, and failed to tackle the Step, I had promised to do so next time I was here. No turning back now!
A couple of other walkers followed us up the shattered gully leading to the Bad Step, probably because they were lost. They sat on a boulder and watched, with increasing trepidation, as we climbed the 10-foot wall of vertical rock. I managed it without too much trouble, after having to pause for a moment to get my head around the problem, which was more akin to a bouldering move than a mere scramble. It is certainly harder than Grade 1 and merits a Grade 2 rating at least.
"Come on then, if you think you're hard enough!"
James had difficulties with the Step due to his bad toe and the fact that he does not tend to remain calm in climbing situations which require serious thought, but is more inclined to attempt to downclimb the difficult section and find another route. There was no way back with this one, however: he got stuck halfway up the wall and couldn't find a crucial foothold. I advised him to remain calm and assess the situation but he wanted to get back down: an exceedingly unwise move given his position! After I pointed out that he was almost at the top, he agreed to take a helping hand from me, and eventually solved the final problem of the climb. Success!
However I found it rather amusing that the two walkers at the bottom of the gully had sat there the whole time listening to him swearing and cursing me for making him attempt this route, obviously assessing their chances at survival should they attempt the wall. They were still having problems when we reached the summit. As Wainwright pointed out, it is the most difficult obstacle on any of the regular mountain routes in Lakeland.
James, considering whether to climb on without decent footholds or attempt to retreat
Having beaten the dreaded Bad Step, we climbed the boulder slope to the summit and admired the view, which is pretty comprehensive despite lacking that three-way symmetry of Bowfell's outstanding panorama. But the Crinkle Crags aren't about the summit or the view; they're about walking the ridge.
Esk Pike and Bowfell (the Links face) from near the summit
Looking along the ridge
The giant cleft of Mickle Door, between two Crinkles
The remainder of the ridge was exactly as I remembered, a rocky up-and-down path weaving around and over the last Crinkles and the long prominence of Shelter Crags. The views actually improved as we made our way away from the summit.
The Scafells across the deep gulf of Eskdale, James in foreground
Scafell Pike, highest mountain in England, looking giant and mighty
As we neared Three Tarns and the end of the ridge, we were astonished to discover how quickly we'd completed the route. It was only about two in the afternoon, and mindful of the fact that our chosen descent path (the Band) was quick and easy, we decided to kill some time at a small slabby crag beside a frozen tarn. The crag was a miniature version of Tryfan Bach in Ogwen, and was literally covered with short scrambling lines of varying difficulty, based on a series of cracks. I had fun here honing scrambling techniques such as hand and foot jamming.
After twenty minutes or so we resumed the hike, soon coming to the impressive col of Three Tarns between the ridge and the Links face of Bowfell.
The Scafells again, from the classic viewpoint at Three Tarns.
We made a leisurely descent of the Band, pausing often to admire the views and to allow hurrying people to overtake us. On one occasion a couple of fellrunners--still above the snowline!--came charging past, and one of them slipped and fell flat on his face right in front of us. Luckily he didn't hurt himself, but it was pretty funny!
Blisco's proud little peak, seen from the Band
Langdale. A serious contender for the Best Place in the Universe Award.
The Browney Gill cirque: Blisco, Cold Pike, Great Knott
We reached the campsite with loads of daylight left, and for a while considered heading up to Side Pike for some laid-back cragging, but by the time we had sorted our gear and cooked dinner it was getting a little late. I considered heading over to the bar at the OldDG for a pint or two (let's face it, they have Old Peculier and Coniston Bluebird ...), but overheard a conversation among some nearby campers and learned that the OldDG now charged £2.80 per pint. Rip-off! Students expect their pints for a pound less back home in Norwich!
Despite the painful choice to forego what might have been the best post-hill pint ever, it was a great day that I'll remember for many years to come ... and it just goes to show that Lakeland weather doesn't always consist of gloom and rain!
Saying farewell to the dalehead mountains, until the next trip
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Next day: Pavey Ark
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