Fellwalking for the cynical

Many of us are led into a fear of, or apathy towards, walking up hills from an early age. Whether from distant childhood memories of being dragged up sweaty inclines on little legs, or perhaps just from the human’s natural love of comfort and warmth. For this reason, a fellwalking holiday in the Lake District may not be on your list of potential holidays for next year. Or rather, it may not be on your list yet.
To give you a bit of context, the Lake District, or ‘Lakeland’, is the second largest national park in the UK, situated in the county of Cumbria, about two hours drive west of York. It begins on the coast and spreads inland as the highest mountain range in England, including England’s highest peak, Scafell Pike. Inevitably, there are also lakes. But on a scale so far from the campus ‘puddle’ that they may as well have a different name. Ranging from Windermere, the longest in length, to Wast Water, the deepest lake in England, they are a tourist attraction in their own right. Less well known are the thousands of ‘tarns’ (small lakes), that are to be found at any given level in the fells; marked on a map but for the most part unseen by visitors to the lower lakes and just waiting to be discovered by the fell walker.

The above information can be found at just about any site about the lakes. It comprises the geographical facts, the impersonal, the unchangeable. However, what they don’t tell you are the realities of the experience that is Lakeland fellwalking. The sheer beauty of peaks that stretch as far as the eye can see, the satisfaction of reaching the summit of a ‘big name’ mountain, the weather which changes mood as quickly as the enigmatic person in the Katy Perry track, ‘Hot N Cold’. The excitement of setting out for a full day, map in hand, bag full of supplies and snacks you cannot feel guilty about is huge, because after five hours walking, who really cares what you’ve eaten that day? Walking in the lakes is a freedom largely unexperienced by the student population, made only the more exclusive and valuable by the overcoming of any hard walking.

We may as well address early the issue of ‘hard walking’, that many people may not find appealing. It is undeniable that there will be a steep incline, there will be some sweat, there will be aching muscles. In short, the usual symptoms of exercise. But this should be looked at not as a stream of never-ending pain and unnecessary discomfort, but as a route to smoother ground, i.e. the summit, and a warm feeling of achievement rarely felt in our everyday, comfortable lives. More literally, although Lake District ascents are steep, they are also short, relatively speaking. When you reach the top, the next part of the walk is always flat, and then there is the down, making the uphill only an easy third of the day, which is a great incentive. Another, perhaps unforeseen, advantage to the uphill, is that that no one ever said you had to do it in one go. Have as many rests as you like, take photos, eat one or two or three of the multi pack of chocolate bars you brought, drink coffee while gazing at an adorable Lakeland sheep (much cuter than a normal sheep, take my word for it). And then set off again. Before you know it you’ll be at the top, thinking, ‘Hard walking? What hard walking?’

So, on to the walks themselves. The Lakes have been a popular walking destination for years, the result being that there are hundreds of well-worn routes and old favourites varying in length, difficulty and landscape. From the relatively short but popular (and also fairly busy!) Cat Bells starting at Keswick and Derwent Water, the list of swathes of beautiful horseshoes such as The Newland Horseshoe, The Mosedale Horseshoe or the Fairfield Round, the iconic climbs to Hellvellyn, Haystacks or Scafell, the list goes on and on and despite the Lake District’s increasing popularity you can still go hours on some of these walks and not see a single soul.

Probably the most famous Lake District fellwalker of all time is Alfred Wainwright, whose years of traversing his beloved fells every which way and in every weather, led him to publish several books as a collection of his favourites. Wainwright is long gone, but his books and his walks still continue to gain fans. There is a personal connection to the lakes and the fells that comes across in his writing, that makes them a delight to flick through and a fantastic compliment to the bare bones of a map-planned walk. Even if you don’t pick up a Wainwright and become tempted to follow in his steps, and most, if not all B&B’s will have one lying around, walking in the lakes does become something of a tick box. Sitting over your freezing pint in a gorgeously welcoming Lakeland pub, conveniently found at the end of most walks, you will perhaps occasionally pick out from the conversation of others, names that you will soon come to recognise. There are many incentives to come back to the lakes, but the desire to do ‘that one next’, has got to be among them.

An article about the lakes should probably make some reference to the weather. With high ground situated so close to the coast, inevitably rain is not an uncommon icon on the local weather charts. But saying that, I have never visited the lakes and experienced a full trip of wet weather; the changeable skies are a godsend and make the landscape even more dramatic when every time you look away the light has changed again, the rain has cleared or the clouds have dropped. A mountain climate is anything but a simple mix of rain or shine: there might be hail, with horizontal sliding rain, or the clearest blues skies with not a cloud in sight. Or there might be a gently warming sun with blustery showers. Or you might see the brightest gem of all; tinges of soft mist swirling round peaks and flowing through deep valleys. Lower down the air will be wet and chill, but as you climb above this settled cloud, everything is brilliant and you seem to be suspended above a sea of cotton wool.

Due to the unpredictable nature of the elements and the distance you will probably be from civilisation, the right clothing is essential. I’m not talking a full set of top of the range bivvy-bags and micro-fleeces, but a few good quality pieces which will serve you well. Number one, a decent waterproof and windproof coat from a reputable brand, such as North Face. Number two, walking boots and thick socks, as trainers do not provide the necessary support and comfort for a full day of walking on uneven terrain. Number three, unless it’s summer, a hat, scarf and gloves are usually a good idea to have in your bag. Number four, lightweight trousers that dry quickly, or alternatively, a pair of waterproof over trousers – it’s not pleasant having wet legs all day.

Hoping to have almost converted you, I will run through a few practicalities. A car is definitely the easiest method of getting around in the lakes, but the local bus system is easily used and usefully placed. The area is used to receiving those on a budget, you really don’t need a great deal of money to set off every day with a packed lunch, and so there are many options for affordable accommodation. Campsites literally abound – there’s one on every corner – but if you’re visiting at any other time than those two rain-free weeks in mid-June, then you might prefer a Youth Hostel where the cooking is communal, the views are stunning and the atmosphere is friendly.

As an affordable holiday right on our doorstep, the lakes are hard to beat. But there is so much more to it that I could go on for pages. If you feel like a bit of an adventure, stray off the beaten track and try a scree run (literally running down the slope of a mountain in giant leaps through a deep layer of small stones or ‘scree’ – a sensation like skiing and the best fun ever), or wild camping (set off into the fells with a friend and a tent, and wake up by the side of a remote tarn at sunrise feeling like you own the world). Whatever you do, put aside any walking prejudices you might harbour, pack up your rucksack and let yourself loose on the Lake District.