If you sleep on one summit... make it this one:
Harter Fell might have the best views in the Lake District and, if so, they deserve to be seen at the most spectacular time of day. For that, you’ll need your sleeping bag...
E xcitement tingles in my belly. I rustle in my sleeping bag, toss away my book and gaze upwards at stars zipping across the night sky. I can hardly bear to blink, in this darkness pricked with coloured light. When I look down at my feet, I see beyond the rumpled red nylon, over the rocks and grass of the summit, down across the south-west Lakes and far over Morecambe Bay. I see the coastline of Wales outlined against the black sea. Its hills faintly illuminated by a smudged moon. How am I going to sleep? I wonder. Lying in the Lake District and looking at Snowdonia. How am I ever going to sleep? One long blink, then another, leads me gently that way. The night deepens, lights shine on, and the stars rotate. The mountains stand, and we sleep, soundly, in their heights.
When I blearily open my eyes and look north, the highest hill in England – Scafell Pike – is red. The rocks around me are half in shadow, half dashed with bronze. I roll over and scrabble out of the tangled puff of my sleeping bag, yank on my boots, and move, trailing untied laces, up towards the summit of Harter Fell. It’s only a few metres away. At 5.20am I clamber up onto the trig point and stand watching the sun rise, its first light grazing the Scafell range. Scafell Pike, Sca Fell, Broad Crag, Esk Pike, Bow Fell and Crinkle Crags are slowly woken up. The sea is pale and the cold of the night still clings to the hills. I shiver with it and gaze at the slopes of the hills as they shift from orange to amber to yellow. I see Scafell Pike in its first glorious moments of day, then climb down and head for the gas. This view needs nothing at all but the viewer needs coffee.
Harter Fell is said to be one of the best wild camp spots in Britain and, if allowed to use that trig point in place of a soapbox, I could make a good argument for it. It’s about as conical a hill as it’s possible to find in the lumpy, crag-ridden Lake District, with contour lines evenly(ish) spaced on all sides. The top juts with blunt rocks but the flat patches between them are coated in short, soft turf. It offers unobstructed 360-degree views, which is great because the location demands it.
Harter Fell stands alone at the corner of two major massifs –Coniston and Scafell – bounded by rivers and mountain passes. To the south and east the land rolls away, low to the sea. To the north is Scafell Pike and the Eskdale Horseshoe: a high loop swinging over some of the most iconic hills in Lakeland (need something to do after this wild sleep? See p117). From Harter Fell, your eye runs freely over its extent and straight to the back of the valley.
To the east lies the broad back of The Old Man of Coniston, with Seathwaite Tarn raised high and just in view. Turn south and your eye will pass over Black Combe to Morecambe Bay and over the water to Snowdonia. Further west and you’re gazing at the sea, the horizon punctuated by the Isle of Man, then north again and Galloway swings an arm around, pulling you back into the mainland. From this 649m hill you can see scores of mountains, three countries and the sea. Being quite small, conveniently placed and fairly unchallenging, on its own Harter Fell makes a short and pretty jaunt. But you’ll only have experienced about half to a third of what it has to offer. If you’re going to look at the best view, you need to do it at the best time of day, and that is either the open or the close. Trail believes in being greedy when it comes to mountains, and will grab any excuse for a night out, so went for both.
The fact that there are two car parks right at the bottom makes this even easier – you can park up, walk up, have a good sleep and be strapped back into your seatbelt in 12 hours. Micro-adventure lovers take note.
There are a few routes up. One cuts almost directly up from the east but looks like a bit of a slog. A more adventurous path approaches the hill from Hardknott: it’s indirect, but interesting. We parked up at the car park next to the River Duddon and after crossing the bridge at Froth Pot, the path wiggled upward, crossed by sinuous roots and shaded by trees. It emerged onto crags with the first-best view of Coniston Old Man on the right, then cut north. What’s marked on the map as forestry has recently been felled but this bit doesn’t last long and, anyway, you’ve just popped out onto your first view of Sca Fell, the entire range filling your eye. Here, two small pools lie hidden between knolls. When we paused for a break I half-expected a spectral hand to rise out of the water, wiggling its ghostly fingers or presenting a shining sword. It didn’t though, only reeds leaning in the breeze and a buzzard passing by being the only motion here. Across Hardknott Pass and the miniature cars, quiet with distance, you can see Hardknott Roman fort or castle (Mediobogdum), a clear grid of stone occupied with smaller foundations. I try to imagine how the landscape has changed: hundreds of years ago, traffic would have passed that way but more on business than pleasure and four-hooved rather than four-wheeled.
We turned north towards the hill and started tracking upwards, nipping between
crags and grassy terraces. Unravelling the way up, we soon emerged among outcrops of rock. The summit trig point is perched among three gatherings of tors. It’s a joyous little maze and you can spend quite some time scrambling on the large rocky lumps and pausing to gaze at the view. The Scafell range is at your feet and spectacular from here, but it’s not the only brilliant sight. What would you rather watch as you eat? The sunset over the sea? Cloud swirling up and through Eskdale? The last light on Snowdonia? Hey, why not watch them all!
So, the view is great, the sleeping space relatively secluded and the climb up engaging. Is Harter Fell missing anything? Well, yes, and it’s kind of important. The only water supply comes from a stagnant tarn. If you become parched enough to even consider it, you’ll need to press it through the least-forgiving water filter you can find; one that is only marginally more porous than a brick. We do this and then boil it for 10 minutes afterwards. It’s the kind of hydration situation in which paranoia is to be encouraged. This done, bellies full and thirst quenched, you can now settle down to watch the ‘Scafell Sky Show’: a slow-moving drama, but beautifully shot and utterly unpredictable. Then bed, stargazing and slowly to sleep. When you wake, it will be adrift in England’s highest peaks. As a summit sleep, and as long as you’re willing to carry some water weight, Harter Fell is hard to beat.