Seathwaite Tarn

It turned out that our alternative route had an advantage in that we were able visit the impressive Froth Pot, a little further down the road from the car park.

Mo announced that we needed to turn left down a farm track. I looked at my map, but I couldn't see a marked footpath. There was definitely a finger post pointing that way though. It looked like the footpath had been added somewhere between Mo's 2016, and my 2002 version of the map. We followed the farm track to a house and then the path climbed up to Foss How. A couple of direction posts diverted us around a boggy area, although our feet were already soaked by this time. Many years ago, I was walking near this spot when I came across a sheep trapped between two rocks. I managed to lift it out and it scampered off without a 'baaaa' of thanks.

The dam for Seathwaite Tarn is surprisingly long and the footpath across it, allowed us great views up the valley. I'm not really sure why it is called tarn when it is quite clearly a reservoir.

Swirl How

The track climbed gradually along the flank of the hillside running along the eastern side of Seathwaite Tarn. Some farmers were rounding up their sheep on the other side of the reservoir. We could hear instructions being bellowed to their dogs and the sheep obediently trotted in a line, down the valley. The tops were covered in mist and so we had an early lunch before setting off up the hillside to Goat Howse. It was a pea souper when we reached the col. This was actually a good thing since the track that contours along Black and Wray Crags has some tasty drops back down into the valley. If we had been able to see the drop, I'm pretty sure the Cabin Boy would have been shaking. As we reached Lever's Hawse the mist temporarily cleared, and we could see a view down to Seathwaite Tarn on one side of the valley, and Lever's Water on the other. Mo confidently declared that we had reached Swirl How's summit when we got to the top of Great How Crags. I asked him to check whether there was a cliff face to the north of us, as was shown for Swirl How on the map. Even with his dodgy compass he had to admit there wasn't one, and so we set off northwards towards Swirl How. Ten minutes later we reached the large cairn of Swirl How with its cliff to the north.

Great Carr And Grey Friar

Even Mo couldn't get the next navigational challenge wrong since it was simply a case of following the cliff edge westwards, and then northwards, to Great Carrs. Halfway along the edge we came across the memorial to the Halifax Bomber LL505. On the 22nd of October 1944, seven members of the Royal Canadian Airforce and a Scot, lost their lives as the bomber crashed near the top of Great Carrs. The crew were on a training mission and had been descending through cloud in order to visually fix their location. Part of the plane's undercarriage is next to the memorial. On previous walks I've found parts of the wreckage below the cliffs of Great Carrs.

It was still thick mist at the summit of Great Carrs, and so I asked Mo to take a bearing to Grey Friar using his wonky compass. I took one too and we compared the directions of each one. They seemed to correlate, give or take 90 degrees. The mist thinned as we reached the col to Grey Friar and an obvious path became visible up its eastern shoulder. At the sight of this, Mo was a happy Captain again. We followed the path and eventually the cairn on Grey Friar's summit. loomed out of the mist.

Return To Birk Bridge

I temporarily relieved Captain Mo of his command on Grey Friar since I thought we neeeded a reasonable chance of coming off the mountain safely. I set a bearing for Goat Crag and after a while we dropped out of the mist and Seathwaite Tarn came into view. We picked up a track that headed down to the dam, and given our route was now apparent, I promoted Mo back to Captain again. The sun shone brightly behind the clouds and a few God Rays illuminated parts of the landscape. Mo provided some entertainment on our descent from Seathwaite Tarn, when he slipped on the grass, did an impeccably performed double pike in the air, before landing flat on his back. The impact caused air to be loudly and immediately expelled from his every orifice. We asked if he would repeat the performance, but he was too engrossed in trying to dry his suspiciously damp trousers. At Troutal we spotted the sheep that we saw being rounded up in the morning, mooching about in a small field. They all looked a bit lost.

By the time we reached the carpark, light was fading. Despite being misty on the tops, we'd enjoyed the occasional wonderful views. Acting Captain Mo had actually done a reasonable job and his improvised aerobatics on the descent, had definitely improved the team's morale.