All the Lakes bikepacking goodness in one neat little package
Posted: Wed Aug 17, 2022 11:21 am
With apologies to those who saw my last minute post inviting company, but couldn't make it...
My overnighter in the Lakes last week turned into one of those trips where everything aligns. Despite only being out for 24 hours or so, there was enough living in there to last me a good while. Fortunately I took the proper camera with me, so I'll be able to look back on it in the depths of winter... and I can taunt you lot with them as well
Brief context: I've been running/walking the Wainwrights, but had a painful tendon in my foot, so decided to do some on the bike to make the most of the weather without too much walking. The route was pretty simple: up Helvellyn from the north, down Grisedale into Patterdale, up the other side and back down High Street.
I persuaded my friend and sometime 'boner Morne to come over with me, since he'd booked the day off work as contingency for recovering from Englanduro over the weekend. He'd also had enough of gravel and roads in the post-indutrial north, so was keen for some proper riding. And the weather forecast...
Actually, I saved the weather forecast, so rare is to see such a categorical prediction of perfect weather in all senses from the people at MWIS:
With this in mind, possibly for the first time ever, I've left home without a waterproof
Morne drove us over and we started from High Row on the Old Coach Road, near Matterdale. There's a bit of pushing, but most of the climb up to the first summit, Great Dodd, is pretty rideable when it's dry enough. The heat was our biggest concern, but so obliging was the weather that it largely clouded over for the climb up to Helvellyn, and then came out again for the descent. While I've enjoyed doing a lot of runningn and walking in the hills recently, it felt great to be back on the bike.
Since this was Morne's idea of a "recovery ride" he obligingly waited on Great Dodd while I went out to bag Clough Head. He's the dot on the right.
Looking along the ridge towards Helvellyn:
After an out and back to bag Hart Side, we contoured back round the side of Stybarrow Dodd to Sticks Pass:
The push up Raise:
Classic Lakeland views from the top:
Helvellyn summit:
Can almost see the pub from here:
It's been a while since I dragged a bike up such a popular hill. You always get the "rather than you than me pushing a bike up here" type comments, though it always strikes me as odd that seemingly no-one considers how much less energy it takes to get down. Walking up and down is the hard way! But a new one on me was two separate people commenting, with surprise, that we weren't on e-bikes 
The descent from Dollywaggon Pike to Grisedale Tarn wasn't actually as bad as I remember, and I rode most of it - maybe I'm a beter bike handler than the last time I rode it (2014?), or maybe lightweight 29ers are all they're cracked up to be. Morne had a couple of offs, and if I did it again, I'd probably just walk it - it's not really my idea of fun, and the risk of breaking body or bike, and therefore wasting all the effort before you get to the good bit isn't worth it. If the reputation puts anyone off, I'd recommend not letting it put you off the full route, and just walking down that bit, because...
Grisedale: what a fantastic descent. Up there with the best in the Lakes in my book. Technical enough to be completely engaging, but (almost, for me) entirely rideable if you're on good form. And long enough that you can really get in that flow state. Hence no pictures, because we were having too much fun
And so down into Glenridding where we devoured a late lunch and a pint in the sun, followed by an ice cream and more sitting in the sun. While we were at the pub, Morne asked how many Wainwrights I'd done now, and I did some totting up in my head, and realised I'd previously mis-calculated what half of 214 is and that I was exactly half way at that point. It seemed like an appropriate celebration, made all the neater by the fact we were sat looking at Place Fell, which I have in mind for my final Wainwright. Morne regretfully left to spin back up the road to his car, and I bought some snacks, wrapped a cold beer in my down jacket, and pushed up to Boredale Hause and on to Angle Tarn.
This was a convenient way up and over to High Street for me, since I'd stupidly missed out Brock Crags on a Wainwright run from Martindale earlier in the year. My only worry about bivvying was the potential for insects (the midges have been conspicuous by their absence this year, but the flies have been irritating) so unusually, I was looking for the most exposed spot to catch any breeze. There were a few tents around Angle Tarn (which seemed like a risky strategy anyway) so having made it up to Brock Crags and found a nice flat grassy spot, I rolled out my bivvy bag right on the top where I had a nice breeze and views across Angle Tarn, down into Patterdale to Ullswater one way, and Brothers Water the other, and into the steep little valley containing Hayeswater, and across it to the long ridge of High Street.
There I was treated to: a sunset, alpenglow on High Street, a moonrise, two F-15s doing low-level laps over Kirkstone pass and Ullswater, more alpenglow on Helvellyn, and sunrise. Although the breeze dropped as it got dark, the midges stayed at home - maybe too hot and dry for them. I'll just leave the photos here to do the talking, a I took about a billion of them...
After a decent night's sleep, I brewed some coffee while the sun rose, burnt some porridge to the bottom of my mug, scraped the rest out with a spoon made from an orange juice carton, having failed to bring any sort of eating implement, and not fancying the tyre lever solution, then ate some chocolate to try and get rid of the taste of charred oats. For the first time in my life, I dangled a mug from my bag, until I got to a stream where I could scrub it out and make another coffee. Don't worry, I don't think anyone saw.
It was a comfortable temperature for riding in short sleeves at 7, and after a sweaty push up to Rampsgill Head, I took my time merrily spinning along the 2,000ft+ ridge in the morning sun, stopping to tick off the occasional Wainwright.
I followed High Street to its bitter(sweet) end and spun the last few road miles into Penrith, where despite the internet insisting all the trains were cancelled, the man in the ticket office booked my bike on to the next train without hassle - a miraculous trip from start to finish. I sat on the train and watched the traffic on the A69, a road I've spent far too much time on recently.
My overnighter in the Lakes last week turned into one of those trips where everything aligns. Despite only being out for 24 hours or so, there was enough living in there to last me a good while. Fortunately I took the proper camera with me, so I'll be able to look back on it in the depths of winter... and I can taunt you lot with them as well
Brief context: I've been running/walking the Wainwrights, but had a painful tendon in my foot, so decided to do some on the bike to make the most of the weather without too much walking. The route was pretty simple: up Helvellyn from the north, down Grisedale into Patterdale, up the other side and back down High Street.
I persuaded my friend and sometime 'boner Morne to come over with me, since he'd booked the day off work as contingency for recovering from Englanduro over the weekend. He'd also had enough of gravel and roads in the post-indutrial north, so was keen for some proper riding. And the weather forecast...
Actually, I saved the weather forecast, so rare is to see such a categorical prediction of perfect weather in all senses from the people at MWIS:
With this in mind, possibly for the first time ever, I've left home without a waterproof
Morne drove us over and we started from High Row on the Old Coach Road, near Matterdale. There's a bit of pushing, but most of the climb up to the first summit, Great Dodd, is pretty rideable when it's dry enough. The heat was our biggest concern, but so obliging was the weather that it largely clouded over for the climb up to Helvellyn, and then came out again for the descent. While I've enjoyed doing a lot of runningn and walking in the hills recently, it felt great to be back on the bike.
Since this was Morne's idea of a "recovery ride" he obligingly waited on Great Dodd while I went out to bag Clough Head. He's the dot on the right.
Looking along the ridge towards Helvellyn:
After an out and back to bag Hart Side, we contoured back round the side of Stybarrow Dodd to Sticks Pass:
The push up Raise:
Classic Lakeland views from the top:
Helvellyn summit:
Can almost see the pub from here:
It's been a while since I dragged a bike up such a popular hill. You always get the "rather than you than me pushing a bike up here" type comments, though it always strikes me as odd that seemingly no-one considers how much less energy it takes to get down. Walking up and down is the hard way! But a new one on me was two separate people commenting, with surprise, that we weren't on e-bikes
The descent from Dollywaggon Pike to Grisedale Tarn wasn't actually as bad as I remember, and I rode most of it - maybe I'm a beter bike handler than the last time I rode it (2014?), or maybe lightweight 29ers are all they're cracked up to be. Morne had a couple of offs, and if I did it again, I'd probably just walk it - it's not really my idea of fun, and the risk of breaking body or bike, and therefore wasting all the effort before you get to the good bit isn't worth it. If the reputation puts anyone off, I'd recommend not letting it put you off the full route, and just walking down that bit, because...
Grisedale: what a fantastic descent. Up there with the best in the Lakes in my book. Technical enough to be completely engaging, but (almost, for me) entirely rideable if you're on good form. And long enough that you can really get in that flow state. Hence no pictures, because we were having too much fun
And so down into Glenridding where we devoured a late lunch and a pint in the sun, followed by an ice cream and more sitting in the sun. While we were at the pub, Morne asked how many Wainwrights I'd done now, and I did some totting up in my head, and realised I'd previously mis-calculated what half of 214 is
and that I was exactly half way at that point. It seemed like an appropriate celebration, made all the neater by the fact we were sat looking at Place Fell, which I have in mind for my final Wainwright. Morne regretfully left to spin back up the road to his car, and I bought some snacks, wrapped a cold beer in my down jacket, and pushed up to Boredale Hause and on to Angle Tarn.This was a convenient way up and over to High Street for me, since I'd stupidly missed out Brock Crags on a Wainwright run from Martindale earlier in the year. My only worry about bivvying was the potential for insects (the midges have been conspicuous by their absence this year, but the flies have been irritating) so unusually, I was looking for the most exposed spot to catch any breeze. There were a few tents around Angle Tarn (which seemed like a risky strategy anyway) so having made it up to Brock Crags and found a nice flat grassy spot, I rolled out my bivvy bag right on the top where I had a nice breeze and views across Angle Tarn, down into Patterdale to Ullswater one way, and Brothers Water the other, and into the steep little valley containing Hayeswater, and across it to the long ridge of High Street.
There I was treated to: a sunset, alpenglow on High Street, a moonrise, two F-15s doing low-level laps over Kirkstone pass and Ullswater, more alpenglow on Helvellyn, and sunrise. Although the breeze dropped as it got dark, the midges stayed at home - maybe too hot and dry for them. I'll just leave the photos here to do the talking, a I took about a billion of them...
After a decent night's sleep, I brewed some coffee while the sun rose, burnt some porridge to the bottom of my mug, scraped the rest out with a spoon made from an orange juice carton, having failed to bring any sort of eating implement, and not fancying the tyre lever solution, then ate some chocolate to try and get rid of the taste of charred oats. For the first time in my life, I dangled a mug from my bag, until I got to a stream where I could scrub it out and make another coffee. Don't worry, I don't think anyone saw.
It was a comfortable temperature for riding in short sleeves at 7, and after a sweaty push up to Rampsgill Head, I took my time merrily spinning along the 2,000ft+ ridge in the morning sun, stopping to tick off the occasional Wainwright.
I followed High Street to its bitter(sweet) end and spun the last few road miles into Penrith, where despite the internet insisting all the trains were cancelled, the man in the ticket office booked my bike on to the next train without hassle - a miraculous trip from start to finish. I sat on the train and watched the traffic on the A69, a road I've spent far too much time on recently.
