Issue #59 Rossett Pike (well, almost) and Angle Tarn

Join us on a walk into the clouds...

After a couple of weekends sorely lacking in adventure, a brief window of better weather presented itself and with it the opportunity to get outside. It has been a while since we have been up into the mountains for one reason or another, so we decided to try for a summit.

A ferocious week of weather has just passed, with biting winds and heavy snow, followed quickly by milder temperatures and torrential downpours. Wherever we went we knew it was going to be wet, and that perhaps a few patches of snow would still be lingering on the tops. We opted for Rossett Pike in Langdale, which I think is usually tacked on to other summits to make for a longer walk, but with the days still short, me and Emma still recovering from covid and Benji a little out of practice a slighter shorter hike was fine by us.

It is a long, flat trek up the Mickleden Valley towards the craggy peaks that rise up steeply, like a giant wave of rock that threatens to tumble towards you. A wall of cloud spills over the tops of the mountains into the valley, thick and slow creating the illusion of viscosity. There is a ruggedness to this valley that makes it feel more remote and wild than it really is - I’m reminded of northern Sweden, yet I know this place was stripped of its wildness long ago. There is no choice but to lean in to the illusion, and although void of wild beasts, the terrain and weather combined can still deliver a fierce bite if not treated with respect.

We are all a little slow - we stop to fiddle with jackets and layers often. Benji is in a bad mood and we have to cajole him along a little. We stop for snacks, taking a moment to make sure we are all in the right frame of mind to carry on. Eventually we reach the point where the path diverges and we take the left fork to start climbing up into the clouds.

It is a complex scene - a multi-layered picture of cloud and rock. Peaks are obscured in some places, in others grey heads poke through tattered white veils. The landscape constantly shifts as we make our way steadily up the steep path, following becks and waterfalls as we go. Patches of snow start to appear more frequently, filling voids and hiding the rocky path in places. It is slippery and slushy and hard to walk on, but good for snowballs.

Soon, the complexity vanishes and all is grey. The cloud base has lowered, the valley has disappeared and so has the summit - we are in a grey, misty, limbo, with just a few metres of visibility. We exchange a couple of nervous glances - are we ok? Yes, we are. We carry on gradually upwards and are not too far from the summit, not that we can tell without looking at the map. The snow is thick in places and we trudge through several deep patches - one hides a little beck and Benji slips down through the snow, disappearing briefly into a wet hole.

We make it to the col where our route leaves the main path and heads for the summit of Rossett Pike. Snow hides the route underfoot and dense fog obscures everything else - the summit is a cliff edge on one side and gently sloping on the other and we decide it’s not worth heading to the top for fear of walking right off the edge into oblivion.

We know from the map that Angle tarn (yes, angle not angel) is just a short walk away; even though we won’t be able to see anything it seems like a good spot to stop for lunch before heading back down. We stop above where we think the tarn might be, perched on foam mats staring hard into the fog.

A faint, dark shape comes into view where there was nothing. The tarn! Gradually the gloom is shredded and layers of peaks and cloud come into view. The tarn stares back at us like a huge unblinking eye - now the mountains are reflected in its glassy surface as colour floods back in to the landscape. For a fleeting moment we can see in all directions, patches of blue sky here and there, and the jagged tooth-like summit of Rossett Pike behind us.

The unblinking eye of Angle tarn

As quickly as the fog lifted, so it descends upon us again, hiding the summit and the surrounding peaks from view. We are content with our fleeting view of the tarn and with our walk in the cloud realm, so we slowly head back the way we came, ignoring the fork to the summit, gradually making our way down into the valley.

We stop to build a small snowman on the way, and place him on a prominent rocky outcrop in the hope that he’ll be spotted by passing hikers. Once we hit the valley bottom, there is still a long trudge ahead of us - in the end it was a longer hike than we anticipated, our post covid legs and feet are weary and it feels like we’ll never make it back to the car.

But of course we do.

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Well, that’s all from us for this week, we hope you enjoyed joining us on our latest slow adventure?

With warm wishes,

Andrew, Emma and Benji