Tuesday 20th May 2025
After a single shower of rain in the evening, I was ready to depart Chapel House Farm the next morning. A decent night’s camping and a site I’d happily return to another time. Perhaps when one day following the Coast to Coast Path.
With the sun now shining on what would be a beautiful day for a walking, I retracted my steps along the road to Stonethwaite Bridge, where I crossed to rejoin the Cumbria Way.
Suddenly, as I’m writing this; I recall some form of ’emergency’ amongst a group of Duke of Edinburgh participants. One of their crew had been left behind in the day, due to having been sick earlier in the day. They’d been unable to contact the relevant adult to their group, as the phone reception around Borrowdale is mostly non-existent. By the time night had fallen, I believe someone had arrived at the campsite and everything was soon sorted out.
From memory, today’s walk was only going to be around 15 miles. I was feeling strong enough, after the previous day’s excursion and had shed a few grams from my pack weight, with dinner and breakfast.
Rothswaite, suddenly, was quite a busy place, with day walkers emerging from public toilets, walking the Cumbria Way in each direction. I felt as if I’d overslept and made a very late start to my day.
These early paths were clear and easy to follow. Almost as if they’d been created specifically for a ‘tourist-friendly’ route to and from Derwent Water, which I’d be passing in another couple of hours.
I’ll forever lament the inconsistencies in waymarking of the Cumbria Way, as I took an assumed turn left, “up towards the road”… Only to arrive at a couple of shallow caves and then, a dead end.
I don’t appear to have many photos of the River Derwent through here, which was a mere trickle of water at its best. Another sign that the Lake District was drying up and beginning to suffer, like much of the UK last year.
Waymarking returned close to a glamping site. Yet another option for people walking this Way.
I’d only previously seen signs for red squirrels up in Scotland and in some part of the Cairngorms. Given that I was in the very north of England, not a million miles from the border and having observed a “Scottish” landscape the day before; perhaps I shouldn’t have been so surprised.
Although, that’s not to suggest that I actually saw a red squirrel.
Having followed the river thus far, it was only natural that I would soon arrive at Derwent Water. Definitely one of the “lakes” that people have heard of.
I found a shaded space not far from the shore and would take my first snack break of the day. I expected this area would be busy and I wasn’t to be mistaken. The north-south footpath along the western edge is almost as well-maintained as the B-road to the east.
I have a personal affinity with this water as someone once gave me a birthday card, with a photo of one of the islands at its centre. I can’t remember which island, although I can make out Skiddaw beyond. We both talked about one day exploring the Lake District together. It wasn’t going to happen, things ended and I hold some regrets. But the image stays with me.
When I was ready to return to my feet and brave the rays of the sun, I followed a path running very close to the water’s edge. Not the official Cumbria Way route that I was soon reacquainted with.
From a landing stage, I followed a higher path up away from the main route. Still heading in the same direction but away from it all. Away from them all. In the shade and with opportunities to answer the call of nature.
It looks as though you cannot walk the full circuit of Derwent Water. Unless, perhaps, you’d enjoy walking 4-5 miles of a B-road!
I passed through another wooded section, back on the Way, before reaching the outskirts of Keswick.
At the next unavoidable stretch of asphalt, I would catch up with more day walkers. Some soon dropping off in to the nearest café. On a weekday in May, I was surprised by how busy the area was. I’m often careful to avoid travelling during a school holiday.
Crossing the river, I’d soon catch up with a man I’d pitched close to at the campsite. He’d departed some time before me, having slept in one of those bodybag-like one-man tents.
We didn’t speak as I passed but I suspect he was the first walker yesterday, to have walked the 21 miles from Coniston to Borrowdale.
This was one of my most memorable photos from the trip, with the level of the River Derwent standing so low. Weeks earlier and that dog would probably have been swimming.
In Keswick, I took a very brief detour from the path to head in to Alpkit. They were the closest from a choice of several outdoors shops. I was running out of camping gas, having only packed a half-empty canister. I also purchased one of those striking tools, for when your stove doesn’t have its own ignition. I hadn’t wanted to gamble on being able to purchase gas at my accommodation for the evening.
I didn’t enjoy the walk through Keswick, as brief and convenient as it may be. People walking out of one shop, walking absent-mindedly in to the middle of the high street right in front of you… Perhaps the biggest hazard I’d encountered thus far on the Cumbria Way!
I needed to push on and get up in amongst those fells. Stopping for food amongst the people, noise and traffic, didn’t really appeal to me.
Crossing the A66 was a sign of leaving that all behind.
I’d mentioned Stake Pass in my previous post but nobody seems to talk about the ascent around Latrigg! It was tough going, in the beginning close to the parking area. I spotted a log away in the trees and took the opportunity to stop for lunch and refuel for what was looking like another arduous climb.
Make no mistake – it was brutal! Other walks passed heading down the path while I barely had the lung capacity to say hello.
It’s clearly marked on all maps yet I was still somewhat surprised to encounter a road at the end of this, with a small car park close by. If nothing else, it marked a checkpoint for my journey up in to the fells.
Suddenly, there was no-one else on this section of the Cumbria Way.
My walk continued around and beneath Lonscale Fell. You may’ve noticed the blue sky beginning to vanish from my photos…
As I turned the corner with the crossing of Whit Beck, rain drops began to fell. They were only light, at first and I can’t remember them having been forecasted. But I made the decision, there and then, to get my waterproof jacket on. Shortly after taking the photo above, I would also done my waterproof trousers.
An act just in time as the rain began to fall harder! Another man passed by, looking somewhat displeased but probably also returning to his car down the hill, while I was gearing up for another night in a tent.
These photos don’t tell the full story. Water rushing along the dry paths and consuming my feet. Visibility reduced to only a few hundred metres at best. Every step along the rocks needed care.
Across the valley, I could see a white pickup truck parked beneath Blease Fell. I couldn’t imagine how or why it had travelled there, for there were no visible roads nearby.
Rain began to ease as I arrived at these wooden gates, now heading west. A group of other walkers had passed me looking drenched. Some not even wearing waterproofs.
My plan was to stay at Skiddaw House – the UK’s highest hostel but where camping outside is also permitted. If not for this opportunity, I’d have been looking to wild camp somewhere.
I couldn’t see it yet. Until I spied one corner of the building, otherwise obscured behind a lone gathering of trees.
I found my way inside, where I met Nick and Joss. Both out on their own two-footed adventures. Nick, as I recall, was from a part of Yorkshire and following a route of his own desire. Joss was also walking the Cumbria Way.
Next, came the warden, Helen, in her white pickup truck – possibly the same vehicle spotted across the valley earlier. It’s worth mentioning again that there is no road to this particular hostel, which almost guarantees you’re only going to meet other walkers, mountain bikers and outdoor adventurers.
(Well, excluding that one pair of “content creators” on YouTube who made a video for the views, a few weeks after I passed through…)
I think I paid only £10 for my night of camping and that included use of the hostel’s shop and facilities. A few other walkers arrived, having also clearly fought their way through that storm. But along with the rest, they were all spending the night in a bed, like regular people.
This would turn out to be my favourite night of the Cumbria Way and one of my best camping memories to date. That view over to Skiddaw was quite something and the dry weather would resume, overnight and in to the morning.
I remember talking with Joss about walking. Walks we had done, things we’d like to do. She spoke highly of the Coast to Coast Path and has walked it several times already. I felt that Nick took a disliking to me. Perhaps I was wrong. I’m not the kind of person to throw myself in to a group of people socially and, now and then, I do find that some individuals take offence to that.
I didn’t choose to camp here so that I could enjoy the hostel experience and merely sleep outdoors. I know, from past experience, that I really struggle with hostel environments, whether it’s social pressure, expectation or being able to sleep comfortably, in an unfamiliar bed and sharing a room and facilities with others. I don’t believe I’ll ever get over that.
In the morning, I’d have a decision to make. From here, the Cumbria Way splits in to two options to get around Great Calva. There’s a low route to the west or a higher route to the right.
Also, was I going to embark on another 20 mile day and finish close to Carlisle? Or, would I follow others in to Caldbeck after a much easier day?
Thanks for reading. Day 4 will follow.
Walks With Olly 