Buckbarrow

It was surprisingly mild as I set off along the road towards Greendale. As I walked along the single track road, I admired the huge crags that are ramparts to Buckbarrow. At one point I had to make way for a dustbin lorry that was returning from Wasdale Head. That must be the country's best dustbin round. I wouldn't fancy driving that big truck along these narrow roads though. At Gill Beck I left the road and started climbing up besides the stream. The path avoided the formidable crags to my right and went up on easier ground. Eventually my path climbed up behind the crags. The terrain flattened out a bit and I was able to catch my breath after the steep climb. There was an interestingly shaped sheepfold below Buckbarrow's summit. Wainwright recommends following the flat area ('balcony') to the east in order to get a great view of Wast Water, and so I diverted off the Buckbarrow summit path to take a gander. It was well worth the diversion too. A bird's eye view down on to Wast Water and Illgill Head's scree slopes, greeted me near Broad Crag's edge. At the head of the valley, the Scafell massif was topped with mist. Seatallan and Middle Fell, two Wainwrights on my walk, were clear though, and were even illuminated with some sunshine. Once I'd absorbed this superb view, it was then just a short stroll up to my first Wainwright of the day, Buckbarrow. It was crowned with a cairn. Looking westwards, I could see the huge Sellafield complex on the coast.The good weather was blowing in from that direction, but it was a chilly wind and I took the opportunity to put my jacket on. In the far distance, I could just see the shelter and trig on the top of Seatallan and I set off in that direction. 

Seatallan

The path was gradual but a little moist after this morning's rain. The cairn at Glade How was better built than Buckbarrow's. The path then followed the broad shoulder of Seatallan. The immediate terrain around here was rather featureless, dare I say, boring. For some reason I've always liked the name Seatallan. For me it conjures up the image of a Sea Eagle flying through a storm with a large fish gripped in its talons. Reading Wainwright's guide. last night though, put a damper on my interpretation. He says it was originally called Seat Allan. 'Seat' is from Old Norse 'saeti', meaning hills with seat like outcrops or saddle shaped ridges or tops. The second (or sometimes first) word in the name usually refers to the local lord. I've no idea who Lord Allan was. I much prefer my interpretation for the name. It seemed to take a long time to reach its large summit plateau, or seat. The grassy plateau was empty except for the trig point and a very large cairn. The cairn was so large that a shelter had been incorporated into it. The wind was even colder up here and so I hunkered down in the shelter and started having my lunch. For some reason I kept catching the trig in the corner of my eye, making me think that somebody was approaching. It was annoyingly spooky. When I was up here, last December (see Haycock's Half Hour), I admired a painted memorial stone that was placed near the top of the cairn. It was a memorial to a young girl that had recently died. I carried out a search around the cairn, but I couldn't find the stone today. 

Middle Fell

I started making my way down Seatallan's north ridge. The day had turned a bit greyer. Haycock and Scoat Fell, across the valley in front of me, were topped with mist. Once I'd got down the steepest part of the north ridge, I double backed along Seatallan's east flank towards Middle Fell. The OS map calls this area Winscale Hows. I wondered if this Winscale had any relation to Seascale Nuclear Power Station's previous name. I'd not seen anybody all day, but now there was a plethora of people. Two people were making their way down Seatallan's steep east face. I don't mind using that path as a way up the hill (see Haycock's Half Hour), but it is too steep for me, as a descent route. Another person was crossing the boggy area at the head of Greendale Tarn. I avoided this area by crossing further away from the tarn, but it was still very boggy, and I ended up with wet feet. On the way up to the top of Middle Fell I came across a young woman sat on a rock. I gave her a cheery, 'Good afternoon', as I walked by, but her response seemed quite an effort for her, and so I didn't pursue a conversation. A few moments later I heard her calling out the name of her friend, who I then came across, a little while later, taking some photos further along the path. She didn't look too happy either and so I didn't even attempt a greeting. I did chat with a friendlier, older couple who were coming down from the summit. It turned out that they intended doing the same walk as me, but in the reverse direction. They interrogated me on what conditions were like on the top of Seatallan, and I got the feeling they were looking for excuses to make a swift exit back down the valley. At Middle Fell's summit, the strong wind made it difficult to keep a steady hand for the summit photo. The hill is in an excellent position for all round views of the Wasdale area. On the path down I met a steady stream of walkers coming up. It seemed people had followed the weather forecast of it being poor in the morning and better in the afternoon, whereas the reverse had been true. The grumpy ladies followed me down the hill and had nearly caught me up by the time I reached the road.

I walked back to where I'd parked my car, at the side of Wast Water. As I reached base, a car approached from behind and I got off the road to avoid it. It stopped, and I thought the occupant was going to wind down the car window to ask me a question. I was surprised when the car door opened and one of the grumpy ladies got out. I prepared myself for a question, but she didn't even look at me. She looked on the roof of the car and said to her friend, 'Here it is!' She'd left the lens cap of her camera on the car roof. Amazingly, it hadn't blown off in the half mile they'd driven along the road.

I wandered down to the edge of Wast Water to take some shots along its length. A faint rainbow was visible near Yewbarrow and I waited for it to become stronger, but the Gods made it gradually disappear instead. I wasn't complaining though since I'd already been gifted some superb views for the day.