Hike, Bike, Swim!
Spice up your life with a mountain triathlon for mortals. All you need is a peak, a pass and a pool of water – and you’re spoilt for choice in the Lakes.
Discover a new way to explore the Lakeland fells
While my husband always looks a bit worried when I say “Variety is the spice of life!”, when it comes to adventures (not husbands) it’s not a bad motto to live by. The very nature of mountains means that even if you climb the same peak over and over, it will still offer up an entirely new experience each time, depending on the season, the weather, the company, your mood… But there will always be times when a little more imagination is required if you want to experience something really special.
There comes a certain time in life when you know what you like, and what you don’t. The desire to dangle from ropes, sleep in ditches and scare the living daylights out of ourselves might diminish, but that doesn’t mean we’re ready to hang up our adventure pants yet. So, with two days to spare, the idea of a mountain triathlon started to form in my mind. I’d never done an actual triathlon. I’d quite like to, but the reality is my half-hour lunchtime workouts and weekly bike ride aren’t really enough to compensate for all the sedentary days spent at a desk. And so, with the magnificent central fells of the Lake District firmly in my sights, the run became a hike, an eBike was hired and the swim would be a dunk in a mountain tarn. Oh, and of course it should all start and finish at a pub! It was a perfect plan, with all my favourite things rolled into one. What I didn’t appreciate though, was that not only would this be the ‘spice’ I was looking for, but it would also totally change the way I experienced the mountains...
The BIKE
The Kirkstile Inn is one of the best walkers’ pubs in the Lakes. While this was a perfectly good reason to kickstart my adventure from here, the real reason was that it unfurled a journey that would transport me on two wheels from rolling countryside and woodland on the fringes of the Lake District into deep valleys and dramatic peaks. First along Crummock Water, then Buttermere, with an epic pull up over Honister Pass, landing finally deep in the heart of the Lakeland mountains.
Now, my choice of an eBike might be controversial, but in the spirit of variety I figured it was as good a time as ever to give one a go – particularly given the hefty 1527m of combined ascent on my planned bike route. I was soon on the road, flying off out of Loweswater village with a huge grin on my face. The scenic drama didn’t take long to kick in. I’d driven the pass before and it was impressive then, but on a bike, exposed to the elements and splashing through puddles left by the recent Storm Francis... it was enough to make my eyes water. The connection I felt with the landscape around me was tangible, but I was covering so much more ground than on foot, gobbling up one view after another – the imposing crags of Grasmoor, the lakeside views across Crummock and Buttermere, then the long haul over the pass of Honister.
I stopped at the bottom of the pass. The road snaked into the distance in seductive switchbacks of tarmac in the grass. There was a feeling of timelessness. It was early and the road was all mine. The packhorses of the 1600s when the earliest mines were established at Honister would have weaved around the same huge boulders that litter the landscape now, carrying loads of slate that had formed 400 million years before. The pass today no doubt follows the same line taken by our ancestors, the line of least resistance. On a normal bike it’s no mean feat, and normally faced with such a climb you’d have to dig in, get your head down and give it everything you’ve got. But with an eBike it was almost too easy. I had to peddle a little harder but it was like being on one of those moving walkways at the airport. I effortlessly glided round the bends, with my secret weapon providing invisible assistance, and swaggered to the café at the top with barely a sweat broken. Sure, a challenge is fun too, and I’ve long been an advocate of earning your fun to get
“MOUNTAINS, PASSES, TARNS AND PUBS – THE LAKE DISTRICT IS FULL OF THEM, JUST WAITING TO BE PULLED TOGETHER”
the full reward, but with my legs batteryaided I’d smashed the Honister climb in no time at all and instead of a sufferfest I was able to kick back and enjoy the views, with still plenty of time for stage 2 – the mountain hike. And the best bit was still to come on the descent!
The HIKE
Easily beating the car behind me to the bottom of Honister Pass I swooped into Seatoller, checked into the Glaramara Hotel, plugged in my bike battery and ditched a load of kit. The next leg was a 10km hike. Seatoller is surrounded with mountains, but the hotel’s namesake, Glaramara, had a rough and rocky top that had been on my to-do list for a while, and was now ideally placed for stage 2 of our mountain triathlon. Its lovely ridgeline rises from the Borrowdale Valley, up and over Thornythwaite Fell before raking around the craggy cliffs of Raven Crag and Combe Head. Our eyes were peeled for a good swimming spot as we climbed. There were options on the way down: Tarn at Leaves or Blackmoss Pot, but we were in the business of new and exciting experiences. A littering of small tarns and pools glistened in the sun just as Glaramara’s rocky crown came into view. But this was the Lake District, and by the time we reached the tarn edge, the sun had been replaced by dark clouds and drizzle. I looked into the black peaty abyss of the pool. Without the sun shining it looked like the sort of black slimy place eels and leeches might live. It wasn’t quite the ‘new’ experience I had in mind… so onwards and upwards I went, bagging Glaramara after a few scrambly moves.
With such a gorgeous ascent it seemed strange that Glaramara has avoided the popularity of many Lakeland peaks. On a clear day the views are like a sweet shop to a child, and the most greedy of mountain lovers can gobble up Derwent Water and Dale Head, Fleetwith Pike, the Langdale Pikes, Bow Fell, Great Gable and the Scafells in the distance – all the Lakes’ greats are for the taking from this classy rocky top. But from the summit, what had looked like a clear descent ridgeline to form the second half of an obvious horseshoe route now presented quite differently in a tangle of crags and knobbles. The paths disappeared as most boots clearly continued on over Allen Crags to Angle Tarn, to descend via the Langstrath Valley – an excellent choice if you have time, and another option for
a swim. Leaving the path, I clambered around the rough terrain, finding my own route, enjoying the quiet and solitude until two Tornado jets shattered the silence flying impossibly low right over my head, jangling every nerve-ending in my body.
THE SWIM
Skirting the crags of Dovenest and scrambling up Rosthwaite Cam, I made a beeline for Tarn at Leaves. This would be my last chance for a dip to complete my mountain triathlon. The other target of Blackmoss Pott, which I’d seen in photos, looked incredible but was far below in the Langstrath Valley, having required a different descent route. Unlike the popular Blackmoss Pot though, Tarn at Leaves was deserted. And thankfully as I reached its shores the sun came out. It was slightly more inviting than the Glaramara tarns above, but still a little too ‘reedy’ for my liking. There was no wussing out though, this was my last chance, so I found the clearest spot and plunged in, making a rather embarrassing glass-shatteringly high-pitched squeal as I did so. Lucky no-one else was around to hear as I sploshed around, recoiling at every unseen thing that touched my feet! There are wild swims that are relaxing, soothing… I hate to say this was not one of them. I lasted about 4 minutes (3.5 of those under the instruction of Tom the merciless photographer, who said he still needed a few more shots) before I dragged myself into the long warm grass hoping that was long enough to count as a swim to complete the 3-legged challenge. I got dressed and with the hard work done, I found myself bouncing back down the hill to the hotel. I was buzzing. It was like my senses had been sharpened to all the sensations, from the water from my hair dripping down my back, to the smell of the warmth of the sun on the rock.
I felt refreshed and full of life.
THE FINAL PHASE
In my 20s I might have chosen to finish the day with a wild camp, but now the thought of a bar, a scrummy 3-course meal, a bed and a hot shower were undeniably attractive. Plus, it meant I was able to recharge my bike’s battery, ready for the last stage the next day...
Having breakfast with a view of yesterday’s walk, this suddenly felt like the very best base for exploring the Lakes – right in its centre and with so many possibilities. Great Gable, Hay Stacks, Fleetwith Pike, Dale Head. So many unclimbed mountains were within striking distance. But my electro-powered bike was ready and waiting, and this time the Newlands Pass was calling.
The route took me down Borrowdale, alongside the River Derwent. The secret amusement of an eBike is those moments when you sail past a group of Lycra’d road-bikers on a hill, leaving them in a disconcerted wake – such is the discreetness of the battery packs these days, they’ve no idea that you’re not just super fit! Effortlessly I swept along Derwent Water’s west shores, around my beloved Cat Bells, and under the knobbly topped Causey Pike. The gradient was gradual, and slowly the valley widened as the sides steepened. There’s no denying this is a proper mountain pass; dramatic in a different way to Honister, but no less impressive. The road started to climb more steeply to a break in the skyline. Robinson Crags on the Newlands Round revealed themselves, looking unrecognisable from this new angle. Moss Force waterfall