Kirkstone to Glenridding
The day started with exquisite blue sky and clarity. Driving over Kirkstone to Glenridding green hills were sharply etched against a brilliant sky. Troutbeck Tongue lounged in the bottom of the valley and Red Screes had the stripes redolent of its name. Sods law my camera was in the boot of the car!
As I meandered down from The Kirkstone Pass Inn there were two ‘youf’ hitch-hiking. In this age of media hype when we are warned against even saying hello to a stranger it is difficult to make any kindly gesture, but these two just looked… well they looked about the same age as my son, whom I have only ten days ago waved goodbye to for his new life in New York… So, I stopped, and mumbled something about I have a large vicious dog in the back and no money!
I learned, in our brief sojourn, they were with ‘ Chance for Change’ , and staying at Glenridding. Looking briefly at the website, it is an interesting program and these two were good ambassadors.. So Chris and Zak, I wish you every success.
Back on track I joined a ‘walk with a warden’ group. We caught the bus back to the Kirkstone Pass Inn, which did seam a bit of a nonsense but I couldn’t think of a way around it, and walked back to Glenridding. Not down the pass I hasten to add. Over Stony Pike and then Hartsop Dodd. I probably wouldn’t have planned the route myself as Hartsop Dodd does not have a footpath, track, or right of way marked on the map.
The bus dropped us at the Kirkstone Pass Inn and from we took the path behind the hill enjoying the ever changing views as Windermere appeared to the south and Brothers water, followed by Ullswater to the north. But most spectacular of all had to be the complete line of one prong of the Kentmere Horseshoe, Yoke, Ill Bell and Froswick all present and correct.
Lunch was on the insurance defying drop down to Pasture Bottom. Only glanced by a brave ringside seat. Gray Crag hiding Hayeswater with Highstreet hovering behind.
Not much to follow to the brim of Hartsop spur, but once there, a zig zag track marks a knee pummelling descent to Hartsop Village.
Hartsop Hamlet, more than village, was the scene of transient activity. There must have been some local event on as there was a number of big US style trucks plus a Landover. All with sheepdogs in the back. All told about 14 dogs, and all the trucks drove off at a fast pace one after the other. The only words I heard were ‘… ay bit yu can’t git where I can git wi that thing…’ Now where would that be I wonder? Needless to say, we all stood respectfully squashed against a wall while while they beat their hasty retreat to ‘wherever that would be’.
The rest of the walk was an easy stroll along the side of the valley back to Patterdale and Glenridding. Though you do need to be warned of the not so friendly natives in parts, and worth a mention is this house in Crookabeck,
apparently once owned, though never lived in, by Wordsworth.
The map here,
and stats here. Though it may appear as though the last bit is along the road, there is a footpath and I would recommend a detour via Stile Farm for tea and cake, as here.
Due to the conditions there is a plethora of photos to see from Scafell to Morecambe bay here. Though by the time I drove home, Kirkstone Pass was once more in a veil of mist and Troutbeck was nowhere to be seen!
Bus timetable here, and books here. To learn more of the Kentmere Horseshoe click