After an extended period of failed password resets when I feared I may have lost access to my log of bagged hills, I finally managed to access hill-bagging.co.uk and establish that I’d not yet been up Wetherlam or Swirl How. “But you’re not bagging Wainwrights” observed Mick. True, but that wasn’t a good reason not to go up them, nor was it a reason to omit an out and back to Great Carrs that sits so close to Swirl How, with barely any difference in elevation, that it would have been silly not to visit it and gain a tick, even if on a list that I’m not collecting.
The weather was once again a little cooler than the day before (16 degrees at 6am today, with a forecast high of 26 or 28 depending on which forecast you looked at), but even so I was out walking at quarter past seven, so as to be back in time for elevenses.
The initial ascent up to ‘Coniston Fells’ was a path I’ve used a few times before, although always in the opposite direction. From there I was surprised to find my onward route to be a little trodden line, often grassy, rather than an eroded, well-used path. That surprised me, as surely Coniston is an obvious starting point for Wetherlam.
I passed three backpacking chaps on the next ascent. They were the only people I saw sufficiently close to talk to until I got back down to the mines. Having compared intended routes, onwards I went.
I was on my way back to Swirl How from Great Carrs when I met one of the backpackers again. He was also just doing an out-and-back, and I’d assumed from our previous short chat that he was also going to Great Carrs, as he’d referred to another nearby Wainwright. It turned out he meant Grey Friar (I hope he did also do Great Carrs!), and he explained that it made sense for him to go and visit it now as otherwise it sits on its own and would be awkward to bag. In hindsight, at this point what I should have done was to turn around and go with him. Instead, I now have one hill ridiculously near to where I was standing that I will need to visit separately (using the word ‘need’ in a loose sense, given that I’m not actively collecting Wainwrights…).
Whilst I’d completely failed to notice the sense of visiting Grey Friars, I had noticed that there’s the tiniest raise in the ridge to the north of The Old Man of Coniston that is also a Wainwright, and when I got to the point that I had intended to descend to Levers Water, I was having such a nice time that I thought I may as well quickly nip up it. Hence to Brim Fell I went. A look at the map suggested that the most obvious way back to Coniston from there was over The Old Man, and I dithered for a couple of minutes, eventually deciding that having been there only the day before, I would stick to the original plan (ignoring that I’d veered off it!) and descend via Levers Water. I passed the three backpackers on the way and having told them my route (which I clearly wasn’t on, and was now heading back the way I’d come) they playfully asked if I was lost.
I’m not sure the Levers Water descent was the best decision. The horribly eroded steep initial section was undoubtedly slower going than the engineered path off The Old Man would have been.
Incredibly, given that it hasn’t rained for some time, I managed to find a small section of bog as I made my way pathlessly past Levers Water.
Then, having narrowly avoided a volley of flying rocks ejected with force from the rear wheels of a passing United Utilities vehicle as it negotiated a tricky bit of the track, I jogged back down to Erica, where Mick had cake waiting for me:
Another fabulous outing, and I could have happily chosen another one for the following day, if it wasn’t for the fact that we needed to go home.
