Whin Rigg

After leaving the confines of the forestry plantation around Irton Pike, there is a great view down the Wasdale valley. All the high tops were covered in mist, but just across the valley, Latterbarrow Crag glowed in the early morning sun. When I was here last December (see Mad Dogs And Yorkshiremen), a cloud inversion had filled the valley with mist. Latterbarrow Crag looked like an island on a glacier. The weather was very different today though. The sun had now disappeared behind a cloud, and a strong south westerly was flexing its muscles. I kept on climbing until my head was almost touching the mist. There was now rain in the wind and so I put on my waterproofs. The path is obvious over Whin Rigg and it would be hard and careless to go off track. The ominous cliffs on my left were also a good navigational handrail. It was one of those dark, gloomy mists. I much prefer those lighter, brighter mists. Eventually I reached the cairn on the top of Whin Rigg. There wasn't any reason to hang about and so I set off to Illgill Head.

Illgill Head

There wasn't much to keep the mind occupied during the walk from Whin Rigg to Illgill Head. The only feature was the tarns at the col between the two hills. It was a shame it was misty; the views down into the Wasdale valley are normally spectacular. I came across a large cairn, and I initially took this to be the summit of Illgill Head. Looking at the map, I could see that the actual summit was still a few minutes' walk further on. The cairn on the actual summit was a lot smaller than the false summit. It was still very misty and so I took a bearing to take me down on to Tongue Moor. I headed off on the bearing and came across a gulley that would lead me down the hill. Gradually I dropped out of the mist, and I got a good view of Burnmoor Tarn and Great How beyond it. I'd been to the top of Great How, on yesterday's walk (see Great How Things Worked Out).

Alien Invasion

It was great to have a view again. As I walked across Tongue Moor, I heard some shouting over to my right. I could see some cattle halfway down the hillside and a separate group, above them, near to the mist line. Rather bizarrely I could see a couple of lights shining through the mist. There was a brief moment when I thought I might actually be experiencing an alien invasion. There was some more shouting, and the cattle in the mist started to move downwards towards the other cattle. The lights followed them, and I could see that it was a farmer on an ATV. I was quite impressed that he was able to handle the bike on such a steep slope. I'd just walked down something similar and found it had required some care. The farmer was forcing the cattle dowhill towards me and so I didn't hang about and made swift progress across the moor to the intake field.

Bakerstead Barn

The next stage of the walk involved some field hopping. The fields brought me down to Bakerstead Barn. A sign on the door indicated that it was the Outdoor Pursuits Centre for Wyndham School Egremont. The last time I was here, the doors were locked up, but they were open today, and so I had a peek in. I think it had been a long time since the place had been a base for outdoor pursuits, and I have my doubts as to whether it ever would be in the future. Basically, it was derelict. I did wonder whether Wyndham School had any relation to the author, John Wyndham. It seemed to make sense given my recent close encounter of the third kind, back up on Tongue Moor. Sadly, later research revealed that there was no relation. In fact, the school no longer exists; it was merged with Ehenside School in 2008 and became the West Lakes Academy.

Miterdale

The dogs greeted me with a chorus of barking as I walked through the farmyard at Low Place. Presumably this was the base of the farmer who had been doing the ATV stunts up on the fell. I was soon out of the other side and on to a farm track that followed the valley towards the Miterdale Forest. I'd had some fun and games trying to find one of the bridleways on my last visit to the plantation (see Mad Dogs And Yorkshiremen), and so this visit I largely stuck to the forestry roads. There seemed to be a lot of stacks of timber next to the roadside that just seemed to be rotting away. When I reached the tarmac of Bowerhouse Bank road, I was surprised to come across an Outreach engineer kneeling near a grate. I'd not seen anybody (apart from the alien farmer) all day, and I was rather hungry for conversation, but I was disappointed not to get more than a 'hello' from him.

As I approached the car park, I could see somebody on the top of Irton Pike. It'd seemed a long time since I stood on its top. I'd enjoyed the outing, but the misty conditions had prevented me seeing the best views from Whin Rigg and Ilgill Head. It may have been misty, but at least it had not seriously rained.