Alcock Tarn

It was too early for the Grasmere Gingerbread Shop to be open although there was an enticing treacle smell emanating from the premises. We made out way past the Wordsworth Museum and Dove Cottage. I wondered whether Wordsworth was fond of gingerbread. I can't remember him mentioning it in any of his poems though. The Kapitan was navigating today and his first foray off the road led us in a circle of about 50 metres diameter. It was a curious manoeuvre, but I'd decided to take a backseat and let him learn by his own mistakes today. He eventually found the correct path that would lead us up to Alcock Tarn. There is a small tarn about 10 minutes walk up the path and I've often wondered how many people believe that they've reached Alcock Tarn and then walk back down. 

I wouldn't class Alcock Tarn as pretty. Pleasant, definitely. Pretty, no. The views on the path up to it though, are definitely pretty. There are stunning views across to Loughrigg and down on to Grasmere, with the hills of the Far Easedale valley extending beyond.

Fairfield

Alcock Tarn is the destination for a lot of walkers. Not for us, our next objective was Fairfield. It is possible to take an angled track from Alcock Tarn to Heron Pike's summit. This is mostly trackless and a little steep. I've therefore found it best to take the more gradual and well worn track up to Lord Crag, and then follow the ridge up to Heron Pike. The ridge is on the Fairfield Horseshoe walk and was therefore busy with people. We found some shelter at the top of Blind Cove to have a break. Mist drifted in over the high tops as we drank coffee and chomped on flapjacks. The top of Fairfield was covered in mist when we set off again.

It was still misty when we reached Fairfield's top. I've been to the summit dozens of times and I bet on most of those occasions my view has been of mist. People milled about on the summit plateau. We could see seven mountain bikers having a discussion on the north side of the plateau and then they set off to the west. They were obviously going to go down the west ridge path. I'd seen a couple of bikers descend this track on a previous occasion. I was quite amazed; it is difficult enough to walk down due to the steepness and scree, never mind try to cycle down. The Kapitan was setting a bearing to take us down the west ridge. I could have told him to follow the mountain bikers, but as I say, I was taking a backseat today.

Mountain Bikers

Four of the mountain bikers came towards us. They'd obviously had a look at Fairfield's west ridge and figured it wasn't for them. We dropped out of the mist to see the other three making their way down the zig-zagging track. I'm still not sure how they do it. I'd be straight over the handle bars if I tried it. They were soon at the bottom of the track and then they set off alongside Grisedale Tarn in the direction of Patterdale. We slid and skidded our way down Fairfield's west ridge. It is actually a footpath rather than a bridleway and so officially the bikers shouldn't use it. I could see some evidence of the tyres damaging the track. To be honest though, the track is more or less scree and easily damaged by the many walkers using it anyway.

It was nearly 2pm and we'd still not had lunch. My stomach decided not to take a backseat any more and I made a suggestion to the Kapitan that maybe it was time to stop for lunch. It was too windy at Grisedale Tarn and so he started leading us down into the valley to the south. After another 10 minutes we still hadn't stopped for lunch and I wondered whether he'd forgotten about my request. I was just about to remind him when he stopped and at last we got our break.

Return To Grasmere

The sun was out now and it had turned into a lovely day. Helm Crag dominated our view at the end of the valley. We diverted right from the main valley path on to a track that took us to our descent route, the Little Tongue. The Little Tongue is next door to the Great Tongue and both are ridges leading down into the valley. This track is less used than the valley path and makes a pleasant change.

Near the bottom of Little Tongue we met a couple in their 50s coming up. The man turned out to be a Tommy Topper saying that he'd done 92 Wainwright and was going to do Seat Sandal and Steel Fell today. That sounded an odd way of doing them since it involved a lot of descent between the two. The strained smile of the wife implied that she was less than enthusiastic about the prospect. I told him about the mountain bikers coming down Fairfield's west ridge. 'Yes, I used to do that sort of thing, but I'm more of an electric biker now' he informed me. We left them to complete their Seat Sandal and Steel Fell combo. My guess would be that they turned around and an hour later he would be propping up the bar at the Traveller's Rest telling anybody who would listen how well he was doing with his Wainwrights.

At our base in Grasmere we had great fun watching a Buzzard being harassed by a murder of crows.  A closer inspection of the Buzzard revealed that one or two of its secondary feathers had gone. It didn't wait to lose any more and flew off closely followed by an escort of crows.

It had been a great walk with great weather in the latter stages. There were some pretty views too, although Alcock Tarn was more pleasant than pretty.