Issue # 77 Some Summer Tales

Summer's Wane, Bow Fell, Burnmoor Tarn and Pike o' Blisco

Hello there. How is your summer going? We are past the halfway point of the holidays and although the days are still warm there is a sense that summer is on the wane - the intensity and vitality of the busy growing season is replaced by a dropping of shoulders as Nature breathes a sigh of relief, for she has done all she can for the time being. Now it falls upon the wind and foraging creatures to distribute seeds far and wide where they will sit and wait in some dark hollow until the time is right to send fresh shoots searching for light again. Days are getting shorter, hedgerows (where they have not been obliterated by brush cutters by people with no capacity to see beauty in wildness) are heavy with blackberries, rowans are decorated with clusters of bright red berries and leaves are hard and waxy having lost the vitality of youth and make their way towards senescence. In places, bracken fronds are tinged with gold; an indication of the colour scheme ahead.

We have been snatching the sunny days in-between wet ones to head into the mountains and finishing work early to swim in the river - one of the absolute joys of working for yourself amidst a plethora of challenges that I’m sure are worth it.

After being able to see the distinctive, pointy, summit of Bow Fell - England’s sixth highest mountain - in the distance nearly every day since we moved here, we finally made it to the summit a couple of weeks ago. For a long time we have held Bow Fell in our minds as a lofty challenge, but it was actually pretty easy, perhaps even disappointingly so. That’s not to say it was without a few difficulties - it was freezing cold and windy at the summit, despite the warmth and humidity in the valleys and our circular route which took in Angle Tarn and Rossett Pike was long enough to make feet hurt a bit and knees wobble on the descent.

The summit of Bow Fell bathed in early morning light as we approach via The Band

Angle Tarn with Rossett Pike just on the left on the way down from Bow Fell

Last year on my birthday, we had a long mountain day in Great Langdale, summiting three of the Langdale pikes on a swelteringly hot and sticky day. This year the weather didn't allow for such exploits and we settled for something shorter and closer to home. Or that was our plan anyway. As the sun came out and we left our intended route in search of swimming spots and waterfall fed pools, we ended up scrambling down banks and wading through bogs and our short hike turned into quite the little adventure. We even spotted a juvenile adder (the UK’s only venomous snake), coiled up basking in the sun on the bank of the beck where we had lunch. Sadly it slithered away in the way only a snake can before I got a chance to take a photo, but I’m thankful for the brief encounter.

On our way up to the summit of Bow Fell, another mountain had vied for our attention - one scarred with steep ravines, treelined gullies and streaked with steep waterfalls. This is the kind of mountain we like best. Life fills the spaces tucked out of reach of grazing livestock, deep gorges and folds in the rock hide tantalising secrets and tell stories of the unimaginable forces that brought these peaks into existence.

So for the second weekend in a row we headed back to Great Langdale but this time we made our way up the valley towards the tumbling falls and jagged summit of Pike o’ Blisco.

It was early, and low cloud and fog swirled in and around the multi layered scene, caught in invisible currents of rising and falling air of different temperatures. The weather was meant to be hot and sunny, but we were grateful for the constantly changing cloudscape which kept us cool as we climbed and added to the rugged aesthetic.

This was one of my favourite routes in a while - a steep climb into a hidden valley, precipitous drops and deep clefts carved in rock, a place where imaginations are allowed to run wild.

Emerging from the valley and into the light, we were greeted by a small tarn, a lifting cloud base and the first hint of the warmth that was promised. A short but steep and sweaty climb and we are at the summit, standing both above and below the clouds. In truth, the summit is usually my least favourite part of most hikes - sure, there is the feeling of satisfaction and achievement, and the views are good, but it is the exploring, the scrambling and the travelling that I enjoy. I am just as happy looking up at the mountains from the valleys, but the quest for the summits serves as a good motivator for heading to new places and provides some framework on which to hang plans, so long as we don’t forget why we’re out here in the first place.

We did this route in reverse to the way recommended so we could explore the ravines and tree filled gullies on the way up, and we’re glad we did it that way. Except for the fact that there were a series of steep rock chimneys that we would have to make our way down instead of scramble up. Descending a scramble is much harder than climbing up one and we shuffled, slipped, skidded and reversed our ways down narrow chutes of rock until a steady descent lay before us. It was kinda fun, but I can see why most people do this route the other way.

By now the mist and cloud had burned away and the hot sun beat down upon us - we were eager to get to the bottom and refresh our feet in whichever stretch of flowing water we could find.

There have been other small hikes and encounters, but mostly this summer has passed in the usual blur of trying to balance getting stuff done with having a good time - I think we just about scraped by on both accounts. I’m sort of looking forward to the end of summer; the valleys will empty out of holiday makers and we can re-visit places we have been avoiding over the busy season, and we can settle back in to creative projects and making things. But as the days shorten I wonder, did we make enough of summer’s bounty? Did we capitalise on the opportunities of the season? Another summer holiday is over for Benji - did we make it fun enough for him? I guess we did as much as we could and we have to be happy with that. Besides, there’s always September…

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Well, that’s all for this week. Do let us know how your summer has been in the comments - are you yearning for autumn or has summer gone too fast?

With warmest wishes for the last few weeks of summer and whatever autumn has in store for you.

Andrew, Emma and Benji

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