A fell apart

Eighty years ago, the legendary walking author Alfred Wainwright took his first trip to the Lakes and spent the rest of his life there. David Atkinson took a walk up Haystacks to find out why it was Wainwright’s favourite peak and chosen final resting place…

On a fine day in 1930, a mild-mannered accounts clerk from Blackburn took a bus to Kendal and walked out to Orrest Head above Windermere. It was a walk that would initiate a life-long affair with the Lake District, spawn a publishing phenomenon and – albeit rather unwittingly – inspire new generations of fell walkers to explore the Lakeland landscape. Meticulous and taciturn, Alfred Wainwright appreciated his own company and took joy from the raw, visceral beauty of the Cumbrian landscape. But, by the time he died in 1991, his seven Pictorial Guides to the Lakes had become the de facto walkers’ guide and his name was whispered in hushed, reverential tones from Brampton to Ulverston. If he were alive today, he would, doubtless, be horrified at all the fuss.

I’ve come to Wasdale, tucked into the remote southwestern fringe of the Lake District National Park, to mark 80 years since that first fateful walk by tackling Haystacks – one of Wainwright’s favourite peaks. Many walkers try the easy ascent from Honister, or creep up the back from Butterdale. But in reverence to the crowd- eschewing man himself, I’m walking a 14km/ 9-mile circular route from Wasdale Head.

When Wainwright first pulled on his boots to explore the Lakes, he wrote: ‘God was in his heaven and I was just a humble worshipper.’ I expect to be equally humbled by my Haystacks odyssey, guided by mountain leader Cathy Colam with her passion and respect for the Lakeland fells. “Haystacks is one of my favourite smaller peaks,” she says. “By walking Haystacks we start to appreciate how Wainwright loved the structure of the fells – he appreciated every lake, every tarn, every individual detail.”

Wild ascent
On a bright, dry morning we set off from the Wasdale Head Inn, leaving behind us the inspirational triumvirate of England’s highest mountain (Scafell Pike), its deepest lake (Wastwater) and Cumbria’s smallest church (St Olaf’s), for the 500m/1,640ft ascent towards Black Sail Pass. We make easy work of the grassy bridle path, local Herdwick sheep grazing the nearby pasture, and whinchats twittering around the trail with flashes of spectral white. By the time we reach the Gatherstone Beck, where a frothing waterfall tumbles playfully past and a series of water-drenched stepping stones form a makeshift bridge, the path takes us on a more rocky ascent, accompanied by tufts of honey-hued bracken.

We crest the top of the ridge and catch our first glimpse of Haystacks. Wainwright described it thus: ‘Haystacks stands unabashed and unashamed in the midst of a circle of much loftier fells, like a shaggy terrier in the company of foxhounds.’ In the high cloud and sunlight shards of the day, we can see why its knobbly summit held such appeal for him. Shrouded by views of Great Gable and Pillar, it is less uniform – a series of small summits positively inviting exploration, and with a variety of paths calling out to the fell walker with a taste for breaking new ground.

Small yellow-flowered tormentil and delicate white heath bedstraw poke through the stony path towards Ennerdale, one of the wildest sections of the trail, as we walk down to the Black Sail YHA. The severed heads of the conifer forest, cut down by the Forestry Commission as part of the Wild Ennerdale Project, litter the landscape like fallen civilisations. The area is being given over to natural regeneration with the planting of native species and Galloway cattle introduced to help regrowth. The deliciously remote YHA hut, however, is very much alive with its cosy dorms and well-stocked wine cellar. Assistant manager Steve Jones even keeps a highly quaffable Italian Poeta Merlot to reward the weary walker with the three-course supper.

“Wasdale to Ennerdale has a very special feel about it. You’re in the big mountains,” says Steve, showing us round the hut. “This part of the Lakes feels very remote, but people are increasingly discovering the area and exploring Haystacks as a peak that offers something new every time.”

Scrambling and serenity
The clear, stone path to Scarth Gap brings us to the top of the pass between the Buttermere and Ennerdale valleys, and our first human contact of the day. Groups of walkers, young and old, stop to contemplate the rocky scramble up the western ridge of Haystacks and absorb the resolve-inspiring views across to the Solway Firth. We sit and contemplate from rocky seats for a moment, too, while Cathy shares her years of fell-walking advice for the next leg.

“There’s no secret to scrambling. It’s just what feels right,” she says. “Try to keep vertical and, if you grab onto something, make sure it’s worth hanging onto.”

We make it within half an hour and find the summit surprisingly animated. So, in the spirit of Wainwright, we simply duck down behind a straggle of crinkle-cut rocks by the summit tarn to enjoy our sandwiches and flasks of coffee. It’s a perfectly tranquil spot with gentle air-blown ripples on the water, tufts of the flossy-white cottongrass and a single, stoic rock coming up for air from the water. Only the ruminating munch of butties disturbs the perfect still. Wainwright famously wrote: ‘For a man trying to get a persistent worry out of his mind, the top of Haystacks is a wonderful cure.’ Taking him at his word, I sit, watch the ripples and ponder my own place in the world.

Just below the summit, Innominate Tarn (left) is the spot that Wainwright himself chose for his ashes to be scattered. Dark, brooding clouds are brewing like a mug of builders’ tea as we weave down the loose-stone trail, but the tarn is perfectly tranquil with shimmering reeds and views of soaring Scafell Pike. Wainwright was cremated in January 1991 but his final Haystacks climb came two months later, when his second wife, Betty, his work colleague Percy Duff, and Percy’s two sons carried the casket up the mountain. It was a typically private affair.

It’s a steep, two-hour descent down to Beck Head and then, via loose scree and steep grassy folds, to Wasdale Head, where there’s a pint of Ritson’s Strike with my name on it at the Wasdale Head Inn. But, as Cathy and I sit by the reeds, the clouds part to reveal a shard of blue sky reflecting sunlight onto the water. The heather is in bloom and Pillar and Gable keep an unfailing watch. “Judging by all the rose petals in the water, this is not just Wainwright’s final resting place,” smiles Cathy.

For a man who spent his life avoiding other people, it’s a supreme irony that Wainwright may be followed into the afterlife by legions of fans in Gore-Tex jackets, all rambling towards the great white light. “Whether he liked it or not, that’s his legacy,” says Cathy. “He made the fells more accessible to everyone.”

TIME/DISTANCE: The 14km/9-mile circular walk takes around six hours. An alternative to the classic ascent of Haystacks from Gatesgarth Farm in Buttermere, the route from Wasdale Head is a more challenging mountain route. Paths vary from grassy fell to boulder scree with a bit of scrambling. Navigation can be challenging in low cloud.
MAPS: OS Explorer OL4 and 6; Landranger 89
TRAVEL TO: The closest train stations to Wasdale Head are Seascale and Ravenglass on the Cumbrian Coast Line (Northern Rail). The closest bus service is the X6, alighting at Gosforth, then it’s five miles by taxi (Gosforth Taxis ✆ 019467 25308). Or, from Dalegarth station on the steam-powered Ravenglass and  Eskdale Railway line, it’s a five-mile trek.
FURTHER INFO: www.golakes.co.uk/adventure-capital/walking-lake-district.aspx; www.pacethepeaks.co.uk
GUIDEBOOKS: Wainwright’s The Western Fells revised by Chris Jesty (£13.99, Frances Lincoln, ISBN 9780711221994)

walk competition
walk has two copies of Footprint’s Lake District with Kids by David Atkinson
(£13.99, Footprint, ISBN 9 781906 098988) to give away – enter now at www.walkmag.co.uk/competitions.